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Updated: May 9, 2025
Happy Jack grinned again as he watched, partly because Striped Chipmunk looked so funny, and partly because he knew that if Striped Chipmunk was going to eat the acorns right away, he wouldn't stuff them into the pockets in his cheeks. But he had done this very thing, and so he must be going to take them to his storehouse.
"Oh, Striped Chipmunk's got the mumps!" shouted the Merry Little Breezes. But Striped Chipmunk said never a word. He couldn't. He ran faster than ever until he disappeared under the big stone. When he popped his head out again he was just his usual saucy little self.
Meadow Mouse had not begged a planting of potatoes of Jimmy Skunk. "So Striped Chipmunk and Happy Jack Squirrel and Jimmy Skunk hurried over to Mr. Rabbit's and told him all about Mr. Meadow Mouse and the bag of potatoes that dropped acorns. Mr. Rabbit looked very grave, very grave indeed. Then Striped Chipmunk and Happy Jack Squirrel and Jimmy Skunk and Mr. Rabbit started to tell Mr.
"Oh, all right if I can give Kate the slip. Did you skin him?" reverting with some animation to the slaying of the bear. "It must have been keen." "It was keen till I got the hide off the bear and onto my bed." "You don't sound as if it was a bit thrilling." She looked at him dubiously. "How did it happen? You act as if you had killed a chipmunk, and I want to be excited!
"That wouldn't be speaking to him, you know. Wave your tail at Johnnie Green until he stops the horse; and then you can run away, if you want to. And while the horse is standing still I'll scramble into the wagon, without anybody seeing me." Now, Sandy Chipmunk was a good-natured person. And he saw that unless the wagon was stopped, Daddy Longlegs was going to be terribly disappointed.
There are so many things to distract the attention a chipmunk in the fence, a bird on a near-tree, and a hen- hawk circling high in the air over the barnyard.
The Nutcrackers belonged to the old-established race of the Grays, but they were sociable, friendly people, and kept on the best of terms with all branches of the Nutcracker family. The Chipmunks of Chipmunk Hollow were a very lively, cheerful, sociable race, and on the very best of terms with the Nutcracker Grays.
Ye'd 'ave bust yerself laffin', ef ye could 'a' seed 'em rootin'. An' since then, Mr. Barron, I git all the aigs I want. Don't ye talk to me o' weasels the skinny little rats. They ain't wuth noticin', no more'n a chipmunk." The Battle in the Mist In the silver-grey between dawn and sunrise the river was filled with mist from bank to bank.
But there is a difference between going out on the Fourth of July with a militia musket to shoot any catbird or "chipmunk" that turns up in a piece of woods within a few miles of our own cities, and shooting partridges in a nobleman's preserves on the First of September. I confess to having felt a certain awe on entering the precincts made sacred by their precious contents.
Young Tip Chipmunk, the oldest son, was in all respects a perfect contrast to Master Featherhead. He was always lively and cheerful, and so very alert in providing for the family, that old Mr. and Mrs.
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