The Tale of Frisky Squirrel
After a while Frisky began to tire of the sport. But not Mr. Hawk! He kept flying back and forth, back and forth, past Frisky. And his cruel eyes glared terribly every time he came near.
"You'd better go along home," Frisky called to him. "You can never catch me, if you try till snow flies."
Mr. Hawk lighted on a near-by tree and looked at Frisky. Frisky was a plump little squirrel and Mr. Hawk hated to give him up. But as he thought the matter over he seemed to decide that Frisky was a little too spry for him. And with one more whistle he mounted up above the trees and sailed calmly away.
Frisky Squirrel went home then; and he told his mother what sport he had had, and how Mr. Hawk had at last flown away in despair. "I hope he'll come back again to-morrow," said Frisky.
But Mrs. Squirrel shook her head. She wished that Frisky was less daring.
Mr. Hawk Returns