JANUARY 



25 



When I see a fox run across the pond on the 

 snow, with the carelessness of freedom, or at in- 

 tervals trace his course in the sunshine along the 

 ridge of a hill, I give up to him sun and earth as to 

 their true proprietor. He does not go in the sun, 

 but it seems to follow him, and there is a visible 

 sympathy between him and it. Sometimes, when 

 the snow lies light, and but five or six inches deep, 

 you may give chase and come up with one on foot. 

 In such a case he will show a remarkable presence 

 of mind, choosing only the safest direction, though 

 he may lose ground by it. 



THOKEAU : Natural History of Massachusetts. 



The long trumpet-like bay, heard for a mile or 

 more, now faintly back to the deep recesses of 

 the mountain, now distinct, but still faint, as 

 the hound comes over some prominent point and 

 the wind favors, anon entirely lost in the gully, 

 then breaking out again much nearer, and grow- 

 ing more and more pronounced as the dog ap- 

 proaches, till, when he comes around the brow of 

 the mountain, directly above you, the barking is 

 loud and sharp. On he goes along the northern 

 spur, his voice rising and sinking as the wind and 

 the lay of the ground modify it, till lost to hearing. 

 BURROUGHS: Winter Sunshine. 



