THE FOX 73 



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 explained, 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, when he can get the run 

 of them in spawning time, when they are on the sides 

 of the shallows ; field-mice, and his especial dainty, a 

 well-fed barn rat. There is no lack of these in the 

 harvest time, and up to the commencement of the 

 winter months. Then they troop back to their old 

 quarters for the cold season. He has a taste for 

 poultry ; ducks he values most highly. Perhaps no 

 one but a miller would expect to find a fox in a 

 swamp ; but he knows his tricks and likings, and 

 though he curses him most heartily, yet lets him go 

 free, for is he not St. Reynard ? The miller's landlord 

 hunts him in the orthodox manner. 



On the tussocks, covered with flag and rush 

 spread all over the swamp, the fox makes a most 

 comfortable retreat. Getting into the middle of one, 

 he twists himself round and round, dog fashion, and 



