140 THE RING OF NATURE 



when its docility should have put its captor off 

 guard. 



' Found any mouse nests ? ' I ask the scytheman 

 with affected nonchalance, not forgetting that he 

 is the same man who used to find them for me 

 when they were extraordinarily precious. He 

 replies as of yore, without the least affectation, by 

 telling me that there is one three swathes from 

 the ash where the coats and the cider-bottle are 

 lying in readiness for lunch. I get there in time 

 to see the mother run off like a shadow, her body 

 flattened so as to be almost covered by the stubble 

 of the grass. The young mice within the closely 

 woven ball pink and sprawling, with eyes like 

 bruises, seem as precious and as hard to deal with 

 as when I wore knickerbockers. They are just 

 something to look at, like the sunset. Shall I 

 confess that they are a little less interesting than 

 they were one summer when I had a young hawk 

 to which they were an acceptable change of food ? 

 A young nephew who is with me wants to take 

 them out and kill them. When I veto the pro- 

 position, he clearly thinks that I am unable to 

 appreciate young mice at their proper value. 

 His looks raise an uncomfortable feeling that 

 once upon a time I may have had the same 

 barbarous instincts. * Here 's another mouse's 

 nest,' calls the mower from the middle of the field. 

 One suffices at my age, but the nephew rushes off 

 at speed to see if it is in any way different from 

 the last. 



