Stretch great branches to the sky
Where the green leaves toss and flutter
As the summer days go by,
Dwell a crowd of little people,
Ever racing up and down,
Bright eyes glancing, gray tails whisking;
This is known as Squirrel Town.
Bless me, what a rush and bustle,
As the happy hours speed by!
Chatter, chatter—chatter, chitter,