234 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



By experiment I have found that even 



INSECTS ENJOY RECREATION 



and apparently have an appreciation of fun. A pet 

 katydid, which I kept in my library one winter, 

 would pretend to fight my finger and assume the 

 most laughable poses while so doing. At the same 

 time it kept up a queer scolding noise, made with 

 its wings, that I have never heard among the trees. 



Last summer, from an ambush in the forests, I 

 watched the little four-footed brownies and wood 

 fairies as they rustled among the leaves, peeped 

 from under the ferns or scampered up the tree 

 trunks, but the ones which interested me most were 

 the American white-footed mice, or deer mice, as 

 some call them. One of the little fellows appeared 

 upon a log at the edge of the water, and in the 

 exuberance of its joy, leaped so high into the air 

 that it lost its footing when it again struck the log, 

 and fell with a splash into the water. But this 

 seemed to be part of the game, and the mouse was 

 out again in a jiffy, rolling on its back like a wet 

 dog. Then away it scampered over the water, 

 leaping from one lily pad to another, and noisily 

 disappearing into the top of a fallen tree. 



One summer day, as my boat was floating quietly 

 with the tide, my attention was caught by the 

 unusual movements of some killies. The little fish 

 seemed to be engaged in a game of "I conquer" or 



