126 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



the oat-patch, how many kernels they carried in 

 their pouches at a trip, and how big a pile they had 

 when all the grains were in, these are more of the 

 things I should like to know. 



When the first frosts come, the family if they 

 are still a family seek the nest in the ground 

 beneath the stone wall. But they do not go to sleep 

 immediately. Their outer entrances have not yet 

 been closed. There is still plenty of fresh air and, 

 of course, plenty of food acorns, chestnuts, hick- 

 ory-nuts, and oats. They doze quietly for a time and 

 then they eat, pushing the empty shells and hulls 

 into some side passage prepared beforehand to receive 

 the debris. 



But soon the frost is creeping down through the 

 stones and earth overhead, the rains are filling the 

 outer doorways and shutting off the supply of fresh 

 air; and one day, though not sound sleepers, the 

 family cuddle down and forget to wake entirely until 

 the frost has begun to creep back toward the sur- 

 face, and in through the softened soil is felt the 

 thrill of the waking spring. 



