EARLY ONE MORNING in October, Jimmy Chipmunk woke up, pulled apart the curtains of his little bed, and looked out through the open window of his house. Then he jumped up briskly.
"It's a fine day for nutting," he said to his wife. "I'll go the moment I've had breakfast."
"I'll go, too, if you'd like to have me," said Mrs. Chipmunk. "I baked my bread and pies yesterday, and a day in the woods would be a real pleasure."
For several hours they worked hard, picking up nuts to stuff in their sacks, scarcely stopping to rest their backs. But at last the nuts on the ground grew scarcer and they began to climb the trees to get those that weren't yet fallen.
It was Mrs. Chipmunk who called from one of the biggest trees, "Oh, do come quickly and see what I've found!" in that excited tone that always made Mr. Chipmunk fear she was in difficulties, al• though it had turned out a hundred times that she was just sur• prised and pleased by something. This time, too, he dropped his sack, and raced up the big tree, and there was Mrs. Chipmunk peering into the open door of a house built in the trunk.
"My dear!" said Mr. Chipmunk, a little out of breath with his scramble. "Won't you be embarrassed if the owner comes back and catches you peeking?"
"He isn't going to come back!" said Mrs. Chipmunk. "See, here is a sign on the door for the paper boy, saying that he's off until next week. It's signed, 'Samuel Squirrel.' "
"Well, I don't think we should go in, anyway," said Mr. Chip•
munk, but just the same he followed Mrs. Chipmunk as she tiptoed through the door.
The house was much larger than theirs and more elaborately furnished, but it seemed dark. If there were windows, they were shuttered, and the only light came from the doorway which was heavily shadowed by leaves, They could see little and were soon ready to go.
But just as they were going toward the door, a sudden gust of wind blew it shut, and when Mr. Chipmunk tried to open it, he found that it was locked. The catch had fallen and they were prisoners.
If it had been dark before in Samuel Squirrel's house, it was much darker now, when the only light came in narrow slivers through the cracks. Mrs. Chipmunk began to cry.
"It's all my fault, dear," she sobbed. "This will teach me to be
less curious."
"I came in here just as much as you did," said Mr. Chipmunk. "There must be something we can do."
But the only thing he found to do was to gnaw at the hinges of the front door. The wood was so thick that though he gnawed and gnawed and gnawed, he did not get very far. At last, Mrs. Chip• munk insisted that he should stop work to eat the one musty nut she had discovered on a shelf in the pantry.
"I don't understand it," she said. "You'd think there'd be some•
thing to eat in this fine house."
A very small, disagreeable Yoice from the ceiling remarked, "There is."
The voice was so faint that the chipmunks could hardly hear it. "What's that?" asked Mr. Chipmunk.
"There is," repeated the small, high voice.
"Do speak a little louder," said Mr. Chipmunk. "We can scarcely hear you."
"Then listen harder," said the voice, more disagreeable, but not at all louder than before. After a minute it went on, "Everyone tells me to speak louder, and you can't believe how irritating it is." "Excuse me," said Mrs. Chipmunk, "but didn't you say that
there was something to eat?"
"Now you're talking sense and not personalities," said the voice. "Look behind the picture of the tree where Mr. Squirrel was born and you'll find a cupboard, which he filled with nuts before he went to visit his brother."
Sure enough, there was the hidden cupboard and a fine larder of nuts, but, hungry as they were, before eating their supper, the chip• munks went to thank the owner of the voice. They found on the ceiling a small wizened spider in a cap, whom they could just make
out in a single ray of light from a knot hole. She had become quite pleasant and shook hands with one of her many small and hairy hands as she introduced herself.
"I am Celia," she said, "and I live in the squirrel's house with my two sisters. They call me Celia because I prefer to live on the ceil• ing." And she went off into a thin cackle of laughter.
After they had thanked her, the chipmunks felt their way through the darkness toward the table, where they had left enough nuts for supper. Something else seemed to be moving in the dark, too, and just as they were reaching out for chairs, a match spurted and someone lighted a candle. There was another spider, even smaller than the first, with a bigger cap.
"Oh, thank you so much!" cried the chipmunks together. "Thought you might as well have a light," said the second spider
grumpily, as she put the candlestick on the table and quickly sidled back to the door, which she climbed in a jiffy to a crack where she could swing her legs out.
"What's your name?" asked Mr. Chipmunk.
"I'm Dora, because I live on the door," said the second spider with a titter.
Just as the chipmunks were finishing their supper, a third little voice spoke to them from somewhere below.
"When you get through, I've something to tell you."
Now, by the candlelight, they could see a third spider, the small• est of all, watching them from a corner of the floor. She was so little that they hadn't noticed her, in spite of her big cap, which was the biggest of the three.
"What will you tell us?" asked Mr. Chipmunk.
"I said, 'When you get through,' didn't I?" asked the third spider in a voice that was like a trickle of vinegar.
The chipmunks hurried to finish the last nut and brush up the crumbs.
"We're all through now," said Mrs. Chipmunk.
"You'll find an extra key in the bean pot over there," said the littlest spider, pointing.
Sure enough, the key was there and opened the door beautifully. But eager as they were to be gone, the chipmunks took time to be polite.
"To whom are we indebted, ma'am?" asked Mr. Chipmunk, with
old-fashioned courtesy.
"I'm Flora, and I live on the floor," said the littlest and sourest of the spiders. "And now be off so I can go to sleep in peace, and let
this teach you to keep out of other people's houses," and without waiting for their reply, she closed her eyes and began to nod her head.
Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk looked at Celia, but she, too, seemed asleep in her high web, and so did Dora in her crack in the door,
and now Flora was snoring a little, high snore in her bed on the floor. They tiptoed out, and found that outside there was a golden sunset, very thrilling after the long, dark day they had spent. But before they left for home, they brought back from their own sacks a basket of fine nuts to replace the ones they had eaten, and as they stood in the doorway, they whispered a last thanks to the three nid-nodding spider ladies, who paid no attention.
Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk were glad to get to bed that night. Mr.
Chipmunk's jaw was tired from the long hours of gnawing he had put in. But for a while, Mrs. Chipmunk couldn't get to sleep.
"I did sweep up the shavings you made trying to open the door, didn't I, dear?" she asked, and later she said, "They weren't very
pretty, but they certainly were kind." And then, just as Mr. Chip• munk was going to sleep, he heard her say, low, as though to her• self, "It may have been wrong to go into Mr. Squirrel's house, but I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
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