His mother had always told him that he couldn’t
get through a winter without that. And so, when
Sandy brought her to see his new home, after it was
all finished, and his bed was neatly made, and his
storeroom full of food, Mrs. Chipmunk was delighted.
“I’m glad to see—” she
said—“I’m glad to see that all
my talking has done some good.”
SAMPLES OF WHEAT
There was so much said about Sandy Chipmunk’s
store of nuts and grain that a few of the forest-people
began to wish they had some of Sandy’s winter
food for themselves. Uncle Sammy Coon, an old
scamp who lived over near the swamp, was one of those
who began to plan to get Sandy’s hoard away
from him.
It was the grain that Uncle Sammy wanted. If
he had spent in honest work one-half the time he used
in planning some trickery he would have been much
better off. But he hated work more than anything
else in the world.
Uncle Sammy Coon scarcely slept at all for several
days, he was so busy thinking about Sandy’s
grain. And since he always passed his nights in
wandering through the woods, he became almost ill.
The trouble was, Uncle Sammy was far too big to crawl
inside Sandy’s house. And he knew that
the only way he could get at the grain was to persuade
somebody to bring it outside for him.
At last he thought of a fine scheme. And as soon
as it came into his head he hobbled over to Sandy
Chipmunk’s home. I say hobbled, because
Uncle Sammy had a lame knee. He always claimed
that he was injured in battle. But almost every
one knew that he hurt his knee one time when Farmer
Green caught him stealing a hen.
When he reached the pasture Uncle Sammy found Sandy
Chipmunk just starting away to hunt for nuts.
[Illustration: He Dropped the Grain in Front
of Uncle Sammy]
“Good morning!” the old fellow said.
He spoke very pleasantly, though he was so sleepy
that he felt disagreeable enough. “I’ve
come over to buy something from your store.”
“My store!” Sandy Chipmunk exclaimed.
“Yes!” said Uncle Sammy Coon. “I’ve
heard you have a store here with a heap of nuts and
grain to sell.”
Now, it had never occurred to Sandy Chipmunk to sell
any of the food he had gathered for the winter.
But when Uncle Sammy put the idea in his head Sandy
rather liked it.
“I have a fine stock, to be sure,” he
said. “The nuts are specially good.
How many would you like to buy?”
But Uncle Sammy Coon told him he didn’t want
any nuts.
“I never eat them,” he said. “It’s
grain that I want. And I’ll buy as much
as you care to sell.... Bring a sample of it up
here,” he urged. “I’d like
to see if it’s as good as people say.”
So Sandy Chipmunk darted into his house. And
soon he appeared again with his cheek-pouches crammed
full of wheat kernels.
