Some Squirrels are remarkable for their extreme agility in climbing trees, and in making extraordinary leaps from one bough to another or from some elevated spot to the earth. The Ground Squirrels, however, are intended to abide on the earth, and are seldom known to ascend trees to any great height. As they possess cheek-pouches, they are placed in a separate genus under the name of Tamias, which is a Greek word, signifying a store-keeper, and are distinct from the others in being furnished with these appendages. Tamias striatus is the appellation by which the subject of our sketch is known to the books.
CANINE SAGACITY.
Many years ago, two decades or more, the writer was the possessor of a little dog—a French poodle by breed. A more knowing animal of his kind never lived. He was a pretty creature, with hair as white as driven snow, and manners the most agreeable. Great pride was taken in his appearance. That his dress should maintain its natural purity, he was weekly subjected to a warm-water bath. This task devolved upon a little brunette, for whom the canine had contracted a strong affection.
Frisky, for such was our pet’s name, had never before coming into the family known what it was to receive a good washing. His first experience was as uninteresting as it was novel and strange. It was anything but pleasant to him, but the little fellow bore it like a martyr.
Such treatment, by the ordinary cur, would have been resented with snaps and snarls, but his was a gentle nature that knew no such untoward manifestations. But there was, all the same, an aversion to the bath, as looks only too plainly indicated. So pronounced was the dislike, that the very sight of water caused his delicate frame to shake like a child’s with the cold.
Had not the greatest care been taken in the preparation of the bath, it might have been thought that the tremors that shook his by no means robust frame were induced by the water’s chilliness or by its undue warmth. But this could not be the case, as the fluid was always tempered to the most sensitive touch.
But there came a time, however, when Frisky was determined to evade these kindnesses upon the part of his mistress. He had pleaded immunity from them in pitying glances, but without avail. Something must be done, his looks would seem to say, as he lay cuddled up by the cosy kitchen fire. One could almost read the thoughts that were shaping themselves in his mind.
For three long years Frisky, who had been allowed to sleep at nights in the sitting-room, was accustomed, when morning broke, to visit the different members of the family in their respective dormitories, and have a lively, rollicking time. These visits were always looked forward to, and in no instance, during the whole of that period, were they ever intermitted. To have missed one of these exciting romps, would have been a keenly-felt deprivation. But that we were to be doomed to such disappointment and affliction, subsequent events only too clearly showed.
One Saturday morning, for it was always on the Jewish Sabbath that the bath was given, Frisky failed to make his accustomed calls. This was noticed by everyone, and no amount of comment was provoked. Loudly his name was spoken, but no response was elicited, and it soon became evident that the cunning little elf was beyond the reach of calling. Search was instituted, but to no effect. His absence was lamented, and it was feared some calamity had befallen him. A silence, like unto death, filled the house. There was weeping and wailing about, for Frisky was not.
But just as the shadows of night were deepening, and hope was dying out of the bosoms of all, the patter of little feet was heard upon the pavement leading to the back-door. The sounds were too familiar to be those of a stranger. All listened with breathless silence. “’Tis Frisky, ’tis Frisky,” went up a chorus of voices, and we all rushed to the door to welcome the runaway back to the fold. Not a chiding word was spoken, not a look of reproof given, as with outstretched arms the culprit was received to our hearts. A more crestfallen, conscience-stricken being, however, could hardly be conceived to exist.