one_winter's_day tt one winter's day, the squirrel wrote a letter to the ant: dear ant, ant ant ant ant ant ant ant ant ant dear ant ant ant ant ant. dear ant. dear ant. ant. the squirrel it was a strange letter and the squirrel didn't really know why he'd written it. but he dressed it in a hat and coat because it was chilly, explained which way to go, and opened the door. the letter stepped outside cautiously, climbed down the beech tree, walked through the snow, and tapped on the ant's window. "who's there?" asked the ant. "the letter," said the letter. "the letter?" the ant replied. he opened the door in surprise. "i'm a letter for you," said the letter. it bowed slightly and took off its hat. the ant studied the letter from all the sides, then opened it cautiously. "i think i'll read you," he said. "that's fine," said the letter. when the ant had finished reading, he rubbed his hands together and said, "do sit down, letter, sit down. what would you like?" "well," said the letter, hesitantly, "i don't really know." "something sweet?" the ant asked. "that's a good idea!" said the letter, rustling with pleasure. the ant took his pen and wrote "something sweet" at the top of the letter. he stopped and thought before writing "something warm" at the bottom. then he ate some honey. the letter and the ant sat together for a long time. occasionally the ant stood up and wrote something in the letter's margin. when darkness fell, the letter said goodbye. snow was falling as it waded slowly toward the beech tree. when it got there, it climbed up the trunk and slid itself under the squirrel's door. "well i never," said the squirrel. "you came back." "yes," said the letter, and it told the squirrel all about what had happened on its visit to the ant. "do you know what the ant thinks about you, squirrel?" asked the letter. "what does he think?" said the squirrel. "just read me," said the letter. the squirrel read, and when he'd finished, he asked the letter if he could put it under his pillow. "of course," said the letter. the squirrel's house creaked as the storm raged outside. the snowflakes got bigger and the world became whiter and whiter. but the squirrel and the letter noticed nothing of that. they slept and dreamed of words and sweet ink. 130130 what's it to you? who go blather from