. Shaggycoat; the biography of a beaver . nut which he had found. Skippy was a wild little chap the first timewe saw him. Born in the hig, lonesome woods,he naturally was afraid of us. Upon discov-ering that his home was underneath our cottage,each morning we would throw out a handfulof nuts, calling Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, injust the same way, then from within doors wewould watch our busy little neighbor carry histreasures to his winter storehouse. Very soon Skippy would come while we stayedquite near. In a few days more we placed breakfast on the door step, then insidethe door,
. Shaggycoat; the biography of a beaver . nut which he had found. Skippy was a wild little chap the first timewe saw him. Born in the hig, lonesome woods,he naturally was afraid of us. Upon discov-ering that his home was underneath our cottage,each morning we would throw out a handfulof nuts, calling Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, injust the same way, then from within doors wewould watch our busy little neighbor carry histreasures to his winter storehouse. Very soon Skippy would come while we stayedquite near. In a few days more we placed breakfast on the door step, then insidethe door, gradually leading him into the dif-ferent rooms until he felt at home everywhereand knew that we were his friends. Before long he ate from our hands withoutfear, and came at our call as readily as woulda pet cat or dog. Only one summer, and for a few weeks, Fran-ces Willard and her squirrel friend played to-gether, but I am sure that as long as he lived,little Skippy watched for her to come againwith the summer sunshine and the FRANCES E. WILLARD FEEDING LITTLE SKIPPY
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