For, with a whisk of the tail, they either dart towards you, or run in the other direction and hide in the brush, climb with amazing speed up a tree, or rush into their holes in the ground.
Some of them are such babies that they cannot be many months old, and they feel the friendly atmosphere into which they have been born.

And it is an interesting sight to see a keen, stern, active business man from "the city" saunter with his wife after lunch or dinner, sit down on the steps leading down to the water's edge, or on a tree stump, or squat down on his haunches anywhere on the walk, the lawn, or the veranda, fish some nuts out of his pocket and begin to squeak with his lips to attract the chipmunks.

Sometimes it is a learned advocate of the law, or a banker, or a wine-merchant, or the manager of a large commission-house.

It seems to make no difference.

The "chips" catch them all, and every one delights in making friends with them.
Here is a tiny little chap, watching me as I loll on the stairs.