cause we animals can't talk to folks as we can to each other."
"That is just the trouble," said Gray-brush pathetically; "and so I will have to stay here and die, like all the rest of the captive squirrels, just because people don't understand."
Frisky looked troubled, but said, "I would help you, Gray-brush, if I could."
"Would you?" asked the squirrel eagerly.
"Of course I would," said Frisky.
"Then just turn that button on the cage door with your paw."
"I am afraid master would not like to have me do that," said Frisky. "I guess it would be wicked."
"You say that he would let me go if he knew how much I wanted to," said Gray-brush; "and besides you said that you would help me if you could."
Frisky looked doubtfully, first at my study windows, and then at the cage door.
"Please do,' said Gray-brush again. "I do want to go so much." The little fellow was crowding at the cage door, and panting with eagerness, his eyes big with excitement and longing. "Oh, do, Frisky," he sobbed, "and I will love you all my life."
Frisky reached up with his forepaw and turned the button. Gray-brush pushed against the door and it swung open, and with a whisk of his tail and a patter of small feet, he was gone along the stone wall that led to the woods.
