One morning, as Father Thrift was sitting in front of his cave sunning
himself, he heard some one crying.
It was a squeaky sort of cry.
Father Thrift could not imagine who it could be that was in trouble.
He looked around, but saw no one.
Then he listened. The sound came from behind a large tree near by. He
walked over to the spot. And there sat--who do you suppose?
Little Gray Squirrel, crying into his maple-leaf handkerchief as
though his very heart would break!
"What is the matter, Gray Squirrel?" asked Father Thrift.
"Oh, Father Thrift," sobbed Little Gray Squirrel, "let me tell you
what some bad boys did to me!
"I live in the big old oak tree near the edge of the forest. I have a
nest in the old tree's trunk. There I live with my baby squirrels.
There, too, I have gathered and stored nuts for food.
"And now some boys have stolen all my nuts!
"Soon the cold days of winter will come. Then what shall I do for food
for my babies and myself?"
And the poor little squirrel cried until he almost choked, and fresh
tears ran down his cheeks.
Father Thrift looked angry. He said: "This is very bad. I am sorry to
hear all this, good Gray Squirrel. While I cannot give you back the
nuts which the boys stole, I think I can send some one to help you
gather more.
"There are still some nuts on the ground, and we'll help you to find
them."
Little Gray Squirrel thanked Father Thrift for his kind words. Then he
dried his tears and started for home.
And the queer little old man sat watching the bushy tail as it whisked
down the crooked path and out of sight.