Jasper and Caspar are two of Lincoln’s babies. They bumble and bounce around the woodshed and the trees, quite naively, unaware that danger lurks everywhere.
But today, Jasper cares only about eating.
“It’s a chilly day for June,” he says. “I have to eat something to warm up. I’ll try this bit of bark .”
“Oops! Oh darn. It fell between the logs. It wasn’t that tasty anyway. I need to find a cone.”
“Maybe there’s one tucked inside this stump.”
“Ho-Hohhhh!” says Caspar. “What are you up to, Jasper? Anything I can help you find?”
“Nothing! Nothing at all.” Jasper tries to sound convincing. “Why don’t you just go find your own cones, Caspar? This is MY stump.”
“Whew! Got rid of him. But now, to find a new cone. Let’s see…. Where can I find a cone? There must be some buried around here. I’m thinking, I’m thinking….”
“I’ll try digging here. Looks like a lot of digging has been going on.”
“Ahh … yes! My reward for all my hard work. Now I’d better find a safe place to eat it.”
Jasper and Caspar have once shared a nest
Now they just fight about who is the best.
Who can find hazelnuts, filberts, and cones?
Who fills his stomach then lies down and groans?
One finds a treasure, the other sneaks in,
Stuffs up his face from his cheeks to his chin,
Runs to a stump where he gobbles his loot,
Before brother jumps up to give him the boot.
Backflips and scampers around and around,
Climbing up fir trees till he can’t be found,
“I’ll get you for that,” Jasper chatters out loud.
“So catch me,” sneers Caspar. He’s feeling quite proud.
“What about sharing?” our Jasper exclaims.
Quivering mad, he is tired of these games.
“Dig,” Caspar says, “there are more cones to find,
It’s called competition, and that, I don’t mind.”