214 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



Jumping Mouse is a good mother, and never deserts 

 her babies. If alarmed while feeding them, she will 

 spring through the air with from three to five of them 

 clinging to her for dear life, and carry them safely 

 through all her series of lofty leaps. 



The first frost rings the bed-time bell for the jump- 

 ing mouse. Three feet underground he builds a 

 round nest of dried grass, and lines it with feathers, 

 hair, and down. Then he rolls himself into a round 

 bundle, which he ties up with two wraps of his long 

 tail, and goes to sleep until spring. Of all the Sleepers 

 he is the soundest. Dig him up and he shows no sign 

 of life; but if brought in to a fire, he wakes up and 

 becomes his own lively self once more. Put him out 

 in the cold, and he rolls up and falls asleep again. 



One of the Band who holds high office is by 

 way of being a naturalist instead of an explorer or 

 an aviator, as he originally intended. Last summer, 

 in a bit of dried-up marshland near the roadside, he 

 heard strange rustlings. On investigating, he found a 

 family of young jumping mice moving through the 

 grass and feeding on the buds of alder-bushes. They 

 were quite tame, and as they ran out on the ends of 

 the branches, he had a good view of them and finally 

 managed to catch one by the end of his long tail. 

 The mouse bit the boy, but did not even draw blood. 

 Afterwards he seemed to become tamer, although 

 shaking continually. Given a bit of bread, he sat 

 up and nibbled it like a little squirrel; but even as 

 he ate he suddenly had a spasm of fright and died. 

 This death from fright occurs among a number of 



