“I am so glad to see you!” exclaimed Tiny. “I was running away from a wild cat, and met you by accident.”

“I saw you running,” answered Bushy. “However, I did not see a wild cat. Squirrels run faster than wild cats, so I suppose he gave up the chase.”

“I am not a coward,” declared the red squirrel, somewhat embarrassed, “but I think it is best to run when a wild cat comes into one’s life.”

“In this forest are few wild cats,” asserted Bushy. “They seldom disturb us, unless they are provoked.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Tiny, when he had fully recovered from his shock.

“I live here in the country now,” was the reply. “Perhaps you do not know that I have a mate. He is out getting acorns for our luncheon. Of acorns there is a great plenty in this part of the woods. They cover the ground.”

“Has Squirreltown changed much?” he inquired.

“You would hardly know the place,” answered the gray squirrel. “All our playmates have grown up. Peggy and her mate live in the city, and Polly Blacksquirrel and her mate own the big beech by the brook. Dr. Flyingsquirrel has retired from business on account of his great age. He must be nearly five years old. Your mother, however, is well and happy. Many citizens has Squirreltown. Not one in a hundred leaves it for the country. I—”

“Do you ever visit there?” interrupted Tiny.

“Neither of us has been back for some time,” said Bushy. “We will go over to-night to attend the celebration.”

“What celebration?”

“One which is to be given upon your return home,” laughed Bushy.

Tiny then remembered that Mr. Owl had promised the winner of the prize a still greater reward. He felt very grateful and happy, but did not think it polite to question Bushy any further.

After a short visit with his old friend, Tiny bade her goodby, and resumed his journey. He hurried along almost as fast as he did when he thought the wild cat was after him, for he was anxious to see his dear old home once more, and to receive his mother’s welcome greeting.

While he was drinking at a small stream, he heard a shrill cry. Before he could turn round, he was pushed off his feet. Over and over he rolled, until he almost fell into the water.

“Tiny, Tiny, I am so glad to see you!” cried a well known voice.

“Chatty Chipmunk!” exclaimed Tiny, equally delighted; for there was his earliest playmate dancing about like a wild creature. “Never before have I received such an unexpected greeting.”

“I learned that you would be home to-day, and have come to meet you,” continued Chatty. “Near the city wait a number of your old friends. I couldn’t stand still, so here I am.”

“Are you still fond of playing?” asked Tiny, somewhat amused at his gay friend.

“Yes. I don’t suppose that I ever shall take life seriously,” was the laughing reply. “Nature never intended that I should work or study. However, I have a thrifty mate, and she makes a very comfortable living for me. Every one of those animals at Squirreltown avoids me, but I do not care.”

“If I were mayor of Squirreltown, I would make you work or let you starve,” said Tiny, severely.

“Your education has not improved your appearance,” said Chatty, quickly changing the subject. “You look old and all mussed up.”

“Animals who spend all their time in study are apt to become careless of their personal appearance,” explained Tiny. “You forget, however, that I have had a long journey, and that animals of good taste do not try to look too sleek when they travel. They do not wish to attract attention.”

“Of what use are books and study?” inquired Chatty.

“They are of no use to such as you,” replied the squirrel impatiently.

“And what are you doing with that old goose quill strapped to your back?”

“That is the prize I won for good scholarship,” said Tiny, rather disdainfully.

“How funny!” cried the chipmunk, laughing until his sides ached. “How could an animal spend so much time studying, just to win a goose quill?”

“You and I do not see things alike, Chatty,” said Tiny, with an air of superiority. “It is not possible for an uneducated animal like you to feel the noble sentiment that makes this goose quill dear to me.”

“You are as queer as some human beings,” declared Chatty. “I have heard of a silly man that studied for many years to win an old piece of sheepskin.”

Tiny wisely forbore further argument. After a few minutes’ rest was taken, he arose, and together they hastened to Squirreltown.

When the grand old trees of the city appeared to view, Tiny shouted for joy. There is nothing in life so dear as home and its associations, and the country in which one lives, and the individuals with whom one associates.

Although sentinels had been stationed at the entrances of the highways to meet Tiny, he stole up a back street; for he wished to see his mother first of all.

Mrs. Redsquirrel was preparing the last meal of the day. Although somewhat older in appearance than when he left her, she seemed as beautiful as ever to Tiny.

“Mother!” he cried, as he rushed into the house.

With shrieks of joy, the good creature bounded over the table and to and fro until she was exhausted.

“Welcome! welcome home!” she cried, her little heart fairly bursting with motherly love and joy.

They chatted until dusk began to steal over Squirreltown. At last they were interrupted by Chatty Chipmunk.

“You are under arrest, Tiny,” he said, gravely. “I am bidden by the mayor to take you to the park which faces the city hall.”

Tiny and his mother good-naturedly followed Chatty, thinking that perhaps he was, as of old, playing some joke upon them.

“Be merciful to me, Tiny,” pleaded Chatty, on their way to the park. “Remember that I am your oldest friend. I promise you that I will lead a useful life in the future. My greatest regret now is that I trifled all my time away when I was young.”

Tiny did not reply. They had entered the green park, facing which was a decayed log with many doors and windows. It was used as a city hall.

What was Tiny’s surprise to find all the citizens of Squirreltown gathered there to meet him. There were the aged mayor at the door of the city hall, the militia, the policemen, and all the aldermen and other dignitaries of the city. Every one was dignified and silent. Tiny and his mother were led by two policemen to the little balcony over the entrance to the building. They were unable to speak, from surprise and wonderment.

“Hoot! hoot! hoot!” rang out from a bough over their heads. This cry was evidently another signal to enforce perfect order. Tiny gazed up timidly, and saw the yellow eyes of the owl prophet staring down upon him.

“Citizens of Squirreltown,” cried Mr. Owl, “I, the wisest of all living creatures, take pleasure in presenting to you, Mr. Tiny Redsquirrel, the new mayor of Squirreltown!”

Flapping his wings in approbation, he flew away, never to return again.

Then wild cheers rent the air. Never since that time has Squirreltown been so riotous. Before Tiny could realize his exalted position, he was surrounded by his old friends. There were Dr. Flyingsquirrel and his family, Chatty Chipmunk and his mate, Peggy and Bushy Graysquirrel, Polly Blacksquirrel, and many others, cheering and wishing him success and happiness.

Hundreds of lightning bugs circled above their heads, throwing out green and orange-colored rays. Billy Foxsquirrel and his band whistled gay airs; a frog orchestra close by joined them; and a chorus of friendly mosquitoes, and other insects, completed the grand refrain. Until far into the night, laughter and rejoicing reigned triumphant. What Tiny did for Squirreltown in after years is more than any boy or girl could imagine.