from having to tilt her head back so often. This time it was the squirrel again.
“None of your business!” cried Tubby, for she was afraid he would tell the woodpecker. “I’m tidying my house,” she added with dignity.
“Are you the new Janitor?”
“Indeed I’m not,” Tubby replied.
“Then I don’t know why you are here,” said the squirrel. “You look like some kind of an orphan. Why did you eat my nut?”
“I was hungry,” said Tubby. “I thought it was meant for me.”
“Never mind,” the squirrel said. “Plenty more where that came from.” And he slapped his pocket. “I’ll come down and talk to you, if you like.”
He came skipping down the side of the wall and dropped neatly to the floor, where he sat watching her with his bright beady eyes.
“This basement isn’t so bad,” he remarked presently, “if you were to fix it up a little. Myself, I always prefer living in the upper story. But perhaps you had no choice.”
“Indeed I hadn’t,” thought Tubby, but she didn’t tell the squirrel so. Instead she kept silence, and merely occupied herself with walking round and round the room, staring hard at the grey walls and humming as she did so, till at last the squirrel exclaimed: “Don’t do that! It makes me giddy! What are you looking for?”
