8 1 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



advantage is in their own home. May I be allowed to say that, 

 in this respect, they are unlike many individuals of the human 

 species ? 



It is just after four o'clock on a soft May morning, and the 

 sun lights up the tops of the trees, bringing the tender foliage 

 out in sparkling relief against the hill-sides. At the foot of the 

 one nearest us Reynard and his vixen partner have their home. 

 Numbers of fine beeches grow here ; the chalky soil is well suited 

 to them. A large one has been blown down at some time, but it 

 has been sawn from the roots long ago. For a long distance the 

 soil was loosened in its fall, and Reynard has taken advantage of 

 this to form an earth for himself and family among the loosened 

 chalk, stones, and old tangled roots. The surface round about is 

 covered with the finest and greenest turf. Many hawthorn 

 bushes are there, giving out their delightful fragrance to per- 

 fection, for the morning is warm. On the end of a long beech 

 bough, which reaches far out over the earth, a cuckoo sits and 

 flirts his tail about, shouting, " Cuckoo ! cuckoo ! " The entrance 

 to the earth and a small space about it is bare, for the little foxes 

 are playful animals, and are at high jinks often, capering about. 

 At present they are, comparatively speaking, quiet, for all their 

 bellies are full. Father Reynard is sitting in the bright warm 

 sunlight, winking in a most knowing manner, while two of his 

 cubs play with his bushy tail to their hearts' content, tossing it 

 from one side to the other in a most comical fashion. Mother 

 vixen has a rabbit in her mouth, which she tosses up and catches, 

 and then lets drop for one of the young ones to nibble at its ears, 

 while the darling of the family torments a poor frog that has 

 found his way there. The whole lot look as though they had a 

 touch of dropsy, their bellies stick out so. The feathers and feet 

 of pheasants strew the ground, and other remnants, for Reynard's 

 motto is : " Other creatures' young ones can cry for food if they 

 let 'em ; but mine don't, if I know it." 



At some distance the alarm note of a blackbird sounds. Rey- 

 nard opens his eyes, pricks his ears, and the cubs leave off playing 

 with his tail. The next moment a jay squeaks out, and comes 

 flying overhead. That is enough ; he is up on his feet, ears 

 erected, eyes gleaming, and his brush held almost in a line with 

 his back, his fore feet well to the front, the hind ones on the 

 spring. Squeak ! squeak ! and another jay flits past. With a 

 rush the cubs dash to earth, followed more leisurely by their 

 worthy parents. The cause of their stampede is soon exjjlained, 

 for up the side of the wooded slope a man is seen coming ; it is 

 the keeper on his early round. 



Reynard is very accommodating as to his food; nothing nice 

 comes amiss to him : game of all kinds, furred and feathered ; fish, 



