Squirrel World Read Online Free Page A

mother sang me to sleep with a special squirrel lullaby. The song included all the street names on the east side of the park, in order from east to west.
    It went like this:
    Close your eyes and count the streets,
    soon you will be fast asleep.
    East End Avenue, then comes York,
    on to First, Second, Third,
    flying high just like a bird.
    Lexington, Park, Madison, and Fifth,
    life is great, it is a gift.
    Singing sweetly as a lark,
    home is best in Central Park.
    I’d heard those words a thousand times, so of course I knew the names of all the avenues to the east of the park. Similarly, Lenox’s mother had sung a variation of that song to him, using the streets surrounding his namesake avenue. Now headed towardLexington Avenue, I reversed the order of the streets in the lullaby. We’d passed Fifth, Madison, and Park. When we came up to street level again, I knew we were close to Lexington Avenue. We moved closer, and I stared at it with great disappointment. It appeared to be about as ugly a place as one could imagine. Why had my mother thought to give me its name?
    Lenox must have had the same idea. “This is not a very special place at all,” he complained. “Wait until we get to Lenox Avenue. I know that is much better.”
    “You don’t know that at all,” I retorted. “Both the streets we were named after are mysteries. It’s quite possible that our parents had never seen either one. Maybe they just liked the way the names sounded.”
    “I don’t believe it,” declared my cousin. “Lenox Avenue is a beautiful place.”
    As we talked, we moved toward one of the puny trees that was growing out of a square of dirt. If nothing else, the little tree offered us a branch above the crowd. It was no longer raining, but the day remained overcast. It was quite likely we’d see more rain before long.
    We sat there on the same branch, glaring at each other. I was annoyed that I’d wasted a day getting to this place. It was better to dream about Lexington Avenue than to actually see it.
    Lenox grumbled, “We should have gone directly to Lenox Avenue.”
    “Don’t tell me what we should have done,” I retorted. “This was all your plan. I was happy at home.”
    A couple of humans standing close to the tree were having a discussion, too. “I’m not going into another museum for a month,” the man declared. “Maybe not for a year,” he added after a moment.
    “It’s all right. We’ve seen the three big ones now. And we’ll tell everyone that we went to the others. Who will know? It’s hard work being a tourist,” the woman admitted.
    “Let’s go back to our hotel. I want to take my shoes off,” the man said.
    “See?” I said to Lenox. “Even human feet get tired walking on cement.”
    Before my cousin could respond, the woman let out a loud wail of protest. “Oh, no!” she cried. “We’re right here on Lexington Avenue, which is where Bloomingdale’s is located. We must go there. I can’t go home to Springfieldwithout first seeing Bloomingdale’s. You know how much I’ve wanted to go there.”
    “All right, all right,” the man agreed reluctantly. Suddenly the woman grabbed his arm. “Look!” she shouted. “Here’s a bus coming. We can jump on, and we’ll get there right away. I promise. After that, we’ll go back to the hotel.”
    We watched as the couple raced to catch the huge bus. The doors opened, and some people got out. The man and woman waited to get on.
    “Come,” I called to Lenox and leaped down off my perch on the tree. “Didn’t you hear what that woman said? We must go to Blooming Dales, too. That must be why Lexington Avenue is famous.”
    “And how are we going to find thisBlooming Dales place?” Lenox shouted after me.
    “Just like the humans. We’ll take the bus.”
    With that I leaped onto a metal piece on the rear of the vehicle. Not a moment too soon, Lenox joined me.
    “This had better be good,” he said.
    “It will. It will. Just hold on tight. We’ll