In winter, when he is hungry,
he hunts for those buried nuts, and somehow he manages to find them
even when they are covered with snow. When he comes to stealing
he is not better than I am. I have seen him steal birds' eggs,
and I wouldn't trust him unwatched around one of my storehouses."
It was Happy Jacks' turn to become indignant. "I may have taken a
few eggs when I accidentally ran across them," said he, "but I never
go looking for them, and I don't take them unless I am very hungry
and can't find anything else. I don't make a business of robbing
birds the way you do, and you know it. If I find one of your
storehouses and help myself, I am only getting back what you have
stolen from me. Everybody loves me and that is more than you
can say."
"That's enough," declared Old Mother Nature, and her voice was very
sharp. "You two cousins never have agreed and I am afraid never will.
As long as you are neighbors, I suspect you will quarrel. Have you
told us all you know about Happy Jack, Chatterer?"
Chatterer nodded. He was still mumbling to himself angrily and
wasn't polite enough to make a reply. Old Mother Nature took no
notice of this. "What you have told us is good as far as it goes,"
said she. "You said that Happy Jack is all gray excepting
underneath. Usually the Gray Squirrel is just as Chatterer has
described him, but sometimes a Gray Squirrel isn't gray at all,
but all black.
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