l'he Springfield Fox 



drink and yearned to feed and warm them as of 

 old; but only stiff little bodies under their soft 

 wool she found, and little cold noses still and 

 unresponsive. 



A deep impress of elbows, breast, and hock* 

 showed where she had laid in silent grief and 

 watched them for long and mourned as a wild 

 mother can mourn for its young. But from 

 that time she came no more to the ruined den, 

 for now she surely knew that her little one.* 

 were dead. 



Tip the captive, the weakling of the brood, 

 was now the heir to all her love. The dogs 

 were loosed to guard the hens. The hired 

 man had orders to shoot the old fox on sight- 

 so had I, but was resolved never to see her. 

 Chicken-heads, that a fox loves and a dog will 

 not touch, had been poisoned and scattered 

 through the woods ; and the only way to the 

 yard where Tip was tied, was by climbing the 

 wood-pile after braving all other dangers. And 

 yet each night old Vix was there to nurse her 



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