motes of tbe 



high carnival in perfect safety. And this recalls a 

 little tragedy that occurred at the time. Mice, at 

 that moment, were moving in the grass, and 

 presently I heard the faint patter of little feet 

 where a windrow of dead leaves had gathered. 

 I stood perfectly still. There was nothing life- 

 like to be seen, but the sound was distinct, and 

 then how promptly imagination provides all the 

 rest ! I waited for perhaps a minute it seemed 

 many and then a moving figure came nearer 

 and nearer, until I recognized that dainty creature, 

 a white-footed deer mouse. Intent upon its own 

 quest, it paid no attention to me, until within 

 reach, when I slowly extended one hand, when it 

 sat up like a little kangaroo, gave a shrill squeak, 

 and was off in an instant. I could not hear its 

 retreating footsteps, but a moment later there was 

 a cry of despair, followed by a death-like silence. 

 It was the ever-recurring tragedy re-enacted. The 

 mouse had run into the clutches of a weasel, and 

 its little life was snuffed out. The question rose, 

 would the weasel appear ? Not a bit of it. That 

 creature has had too long experience not to know 

 a man, even without seeing him. 



But how did I know it was a weasel that 

 caught the wood-mouse ? I do not know it, and 

 yet feel confident that I am right. I do know 

 that the weasel is one of their principal enemies, 

 and that is a justification for speaking without 

 special reserve. It might be a skunk which is 

 23 



