I used to exercise diligence while I was at work, in order that I might have more time to attend to the study of natural history.  My great delight was to get away into the forest and observe the habits of its various inhabitants.  Often would I sit on the root of an old tree watching the playful squirrels at their gambols.  When I spied a hole in which I knew that a family were likely to have taken up their abode, I would hide myself; and before long I was generally rewarded by seeing a "papa" squirrel poking out his nose.  Soon he would give an inaudible sniff, sniff, sniff, then out would come his head, and he would look round to ascertain whether danger was near.  Presently I would catch sight of his thick furry body and lovely brush, the tail curling over his head.  Then another nose would appear, and large shining eyes; and out another would pop; followed in rapid succession by the whole family. Then, how delightful it was to watch them frolicking about, darting round the trunks, sending the bark rattling down as they chased each other; whisking their tails; darting along the boughs, and bounding fearlessly from branch to branch.  One, reaching the end of a bough, would spread out its arms and tail, exhibiting the white fur beneath, and fly down to a lower branch, or to the earth below, followed by its companions; then away they would go along the logs or swinging vines, and up another trunk, quick as lightning.  Sometimes I would catch them at their supper, nibbling away at the nuts which they had plucked, or had dug out of the ground with their sharp little paws.