Where ships of purple gently toss
On seas of daffodil,
Fantastic sailors mingle,
And then—the wharf is still.
—Emily Dickinson.
THE BABY SQUIRRELS
The four baby squirrels were tired of staying in their soft nest in the hollow tree. They wanted to find out what was going on in the world outside.
As they cuddled together in the shadowy hole they could hear the queerest sounds. They cocked their heads curiously at the rustling and whispering of the wind among the leaves. They heard chirping and singing, and a silvery tinkle, tinkle from the brook.