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Boy and Squirrel
by
Juliana Horatia Ewing


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Oh boy, down there, I can't believe that what they say is true!
We squirrels surely cannot have an enemy in you;
We have so much in common, my dear friend, it seems to me
That I can really feel for you, and you can feel for me.

Some human beings might not understand the life we lead;
If we asked Dr. Birch to play, no doubt he'd rather read;
He hates all scrambling restlessness, and chattering, scuffling noise;
If he could catch us we should fare no better than you boys.

Fine ladies, too, whose flounces catch and tear on every stump,
What joy have they in jagged pines, who neither skip nor jump?
Miss Mittens never saw my tree-top home--so unlike hers;
What wonder if her only thought of squirrels is of furs?

But you, dear boy, you know so well the bliss of climbing trees,
Of scrambling up and sliding down, and rocking in the breeze,
Of cracking nuts and chewing cones, and keeping cunning hoards,
And all the games and all the sport and fun a wood affords.

It cannot be that you would make a prisoner of me,
Who hate yourself to be cooped up, who love so to be free;
An extra hour indoors, I know, is punishment to you;
You
 make me twirl a tiny cage? It never can be true!

Yet I've a wary grandfather, whose tail is white as snow.
He thinks he knows a lot of things we young ones do not know;
He says we're safe with Doctor Birch, because he is so blind,
And that Miss Mittens would not hurt a fly, for she is kind.

But you, dear boy, who know my ways, he bids me fly from you,
He says my life and liberty are lost unless I do;
That you, who fear the Doctor's cane, will fling big sticks at me,
And tear me from my forest home, and from my favourite tree.

The more we think of what he says, the more we're sure it's "chaff,"
We sit beneath the shadow of our bushy tails and laugh;
Hey, presto! Friend, come up, and let us hide and seek and play,
If you could spring as well as climb, what fun we'd have to-day!

 

This poem is in the public domain.



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Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing (1841 –885) was an English writer, editor, and artist. Daughter of a preacher and a successful children’s book author, she and her siblings were home-schooled and Julie, as she was called, demonstrated a knack for storytelling early on. She lived briefly in Canada after marrying a British officer, and found much inspiration in the people, sights, and adventures she discovered there. Julie wrote primarily for children; her work is noted for its simplicity, detail, and humor.  One of her stories, “The Brownies,” inspired the name of the first level of Girl Scouts.

 

 

 


New comments are closed for now.
Vivi Steels:
I love the fact she wanted to write a poem from the point of view of a squirrel!! As a former Sixer of The Gnomes in the Brownies (in the UK), I must read her story of 'The Brownies'.
Posted 08/17/2015 02:12 AM
rhonasheridan:
She must have been a lovely lady! We have young squirrels here - great fun watching them. This poem has the situation perfectly!
Posted 08/17/2015 12:36 AM
cork:
I long to fly from branch to branch.
Posted 08/16/2015 09:38 AM


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