Mr and Mrs Squirrel were building their nest in a little fir tree. It was a fine day and they were very happy.
“This is a good place，” said Mr Squirrel. “It is quite near the house of the lady who gives us nuts.”
“She's busy today，” said Mrs Squirrel. “Look， she's planting rose trees.”
“So she is，” said Mr Squirrel， “and look， she's pinned a picture of a rose on each tree.”
“White， yellow， pale pink， red，” said Mrs Squirrel. “What lovely colours！”
Soon the lady went into her house. Mrs Squirrel looked at the roses and she had an idea. She pulled off all those pictures and spread them on the floor of her nest.
Soon she had three babies as well as a rose carpet and everything was perfect.
But trouble came. A great wind blew up one night. The little fir tree swayed this way and that.
As soon as it was light， Mr Squirrel said， “We must move at once.”
So they built another nest in the nearest oak tree.
And that was only just in time， for at the end of the day the wind blew the old nest right out of the fir tree.
The lady came out of her house and looked at it-and there， inside， were the rose pictures， arranged in a neat circle.
“So that's where they went！” she said.
“Well，” said Mrs Squirrel， “at least someone knows we had a rose carpet.”