THE SEVEN SLEEPERS 213 



ing of knowledge that a bat's tiny teeth are as sharp 

 as needles and that he is always willing to use them. 



Not dangerous like the skunk, or brave like the 

 raccoon, or big like the bear, the least of the 

 Sleepers is the best-looking of them all. Shy and soli- 

 tary, the gentle little jumping mouse is as dainty as 

 he looks. His fur is lead, overlaid with gold deepening 

 to a dark brown on the back, and like the deer-mouse 

 he wears a snowy silk waistcoat and stockings. His 

 strength is in his powerful crooked hind-legs, and his 

 length in his silky tail, which occupies five of his 

 eight inches. Given one jump ahead of any foe that 

 runs, springs, flies, or crawls, and Mr. Jumping 

 Mouse is safe. He patters through the grass by the 

 edge of thickets and weed-patches, like any other 

 mouse, until alarmed. Then with a bound he shoots 

 high into the air, in a leap that will cover from two 

 to twelve feet. It is in this that his long tail plays 

 its part. In a graceful curve, with tip upturned, it 

 balances and guides him through the air in a jump 

 which will cover over forty times his own length, 

 equivalent to a performance of two hundred and forty 

 feet by a human jumper. The instant he strikes, 

 the jumper soars away again like a bird, at right 

 angles to his first jump, and zigzags here and there 

 through the air, so fast and so far as to baffle even the 

 swift hawk and the dogged weasel. 



Every day Mr. Jumping Mouse washes and pol- 

 ishes his immaculate self, and draws his long silky 

 tail through his mouth until every hair shines. Mrs. 



