After the Storm. 61 



selves readily to another. I never saw a meadow 

 mouse climb a tree, but here are three that 

 must have climbed the perpendicular trunk of 

 a maple for at least five feet, the distance 

 between the water's surface and the lowest 

 branch. Above them crouches some larger 

 mammal, but what is it? It hides itself effect- 

 ually, and I can form no idea from what little I 

 see. Possibly a young raccoon ; less probably 

 a "wild" domestic cat; it is too dark for an 

 opossum, and skunks cannot climb, it is said. 

 It is not strange to find the freshets upsetting 

 wild life's plans ; even the moles in the upland 

 fields have been burrowing in every direction, 

 and uplifted the sod near the house into long 

 disfiguring ridges. 



All day long afloat and never tiring, though 

 no adventure awaits me. As noon approaches 

 the sun shines with unusual warmth, and my 

 neighbor's bees come from the hive. There 

 are insects in the air on the sunny sides of the 

 oaks and hickories. How very quick to re- 

 spond to a little sunshine is nearly every form 

 of life ! and how very apt to suffer because of 

 this credulity ! The winter sun, with us, can lie 



