[Illustration: LITTLE FREEHOLD. By S. J. Carter.]
The boy who had set the trap carried Chippy home and put him in a cage.
He was kind to the little fellow and gave him fruit and nuts to eat.
Still Chippy was not happy. He longed for the green trees and a frolic
in the open fields.
For several days after Chippy was caught, I was very unhappy, but I
tried to be cheerful for the sake of my dear little Bushy Tail. Then I
lost this little one in a way that is almost too sad to think of.
Bushy Tail was playing in a tree one day, running up and down and
jumping from limb to limb, when some boys saw him among the green
leaves.
They began at once to stone him. Poor little Bushy Tail ran up the tree
as far as he could, but at last a stone hit him. For a minute he clung
trembling to the branch, and I hoped he was not hurt, but another stone
struck him and he fell.
The boys shouted when they saw him fall, but a little girl ran and
picked him up so gently that I have loved her ever since that day. I was
his mother, but I could not help him.
She carried him to a house near by and put him in a box filled with soft
grass, but the little fellow was badly hurt. Three days later I saw her
bury him in her little garden, and I knew his pain was over.
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