Rose-Marie, taut with quivering curiosity. Caroline scowled at him.
"Rise of the Dutch Republic!" she muttered angrily. "I think not!"
The chipmunk winked sympathetically.
"Your father says it's as interesting as any novel" (with startling mimicry of the piazza voice). "I notice they don't read it!"
The chipmunk's place was empty; only a slight stir among the leaves marked his path.
Caroline's eyes widened, grew dreamy. She leaned her sharp elbows on Rose-Marie's hairy back and threw her weight on him thoughtfully: he checked and stood like a table.
"Do you suppose there really are regular roads through the trees, like the monkeys took Mowgli on?" she queried.
Rose-Marie waved his long, hairy ears meditatively, but said nothing.
"I don't mean in any fairy way," she explained hastily, "but just scientifically. It might be. Corners and turns and short-cuts—why not? they all know them. He may be running home by a back way, now, to call his children to look
