Striped Chipmunk
is very thrifty. He likes to play, and he is one of the merriest of all
the little people who live on the Green Meadows or in the Green Forest.
He lives right on the edge of both and knows everybody, and everybody
knows him. Almost every morning the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother
West Wind hurry over to have a frolic with him the very first thing. But
though he dearly loves to play, he never lets play interfere with work.
Whatever he does, be it play or work, he does with all his might.
"I love the sun; I love the rain;
I love to work; I love to play.
Whatever it may bring to me
I love each minute of each day."
So said Striped Chipmunk, as he sat in the hollow log and studied how he
could fill that splendid big new storehouse. Pretty soon he pricked up
his funny little ears. What was all that noise over in the Green
Forest? Striped Chipmunk peeped out of the hollow log. Over in the top
of a tall hickory tree a terrible fuss was going on. Striped Chipmunk
listened. He heard angry voices, such angry voices! They were the voices
of his big cousins, Happy Jack the Gray Squirrel and Chatterer the Red
Squirrel.
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