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Fiction

Abstract

RED SQUIRREL— his real name was Aloysius, but none of the other squirrels on the farm could pronounce Aloysius—was tired of the same routine. Each morning he would rise, eat a breakfast of seed corn and play hide-andseek around the bright machinery that stood in the yard. After a noontime nap, all the squirrels would climb the haymound, wrap their tails about themselves and tumble and roll to the foot of the hay. Or they would pick a black walnut from the biggest tree in the grove, if it was late summer, and feast on a sweet nut for dinner.

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