WILDWOOD WAYS 



snowy whiteness and vanished. I don't 

 think he saw me. He was rushing to find 

 the lady and recite that poem to her be- 

 fore he forgot it. 



On the white page of the path that lay 

 open under groined arches of alabaster 

 no foot had written a record for many 

 rods, then it seemed as if from side to 

 side stretched a highway. Back and 

 forth in straight lines had gone a crea- 

 ture that made a lovely decorative pat- 

 tern of a trail, a straight line firmly 

 drawn as if with a stylus, on either side 

 at a distance say of three-fourths of an 

 inch tiny footmarks just opposite each 

 other, while alternating with these and 

 nearer the middle line were fainter and 

 finer footprints. 



Here the tiny deer-mouse had drawn his 

 long tail through the snow, whisking from 

 stump to stump in a quiver of excitement 

 180 



