THIRD WEEK] February 55 



and when they want a nibble of nut or acorn they make 

 their way, by some mysterious sense, even through three 

 feet of snow, down to the bit of food which, months before, 

 they patted out of sight among the moss and leaves. 



It would seem that some exact sub-conscious sense of 

 locality would be a more probable solution of this feat 

 than the sense of smell, however keenly developed, when 

 we consider that dozens of nuts may be hidden or buried 

 in close proximity to the one sought by the squirrel. 



Even though the birds seem to have vanished from 

 the earth, and every mammal be deeply buried in its long 

 sleep, no winter's walk need be barren of interest. A 

 suggestion worth trying would be to choose a certain area 

 of saplings and underbrush and proceed systematically to 

 fathom every cause which has prevented the few stray 

 leaves still upon their stalks from falling with their many 

 brethren now buried beneath the snow. 



The encircling silken bonds of Promethea and Cynthia 

 cocoons will account for some; others will puzzle us until 

 we have found the traces of some insect foe, whose girdling 

 has killed the twig and thus prevented the leaf from falling 

 at the usual time; some may be simply mechanical causes, 

 where a broken twig crotch has fallen athwart another 

 stem in the course of its downward fall. Then there is 

 the pitiful remnant of a last summer's bird's-nest, with a 

 mere skeleton of a floor all but disintegrated. 



But occasionally a substantial ball of dead leaves will 

 be noticed, swung amid a tangle of brier. No accident 

 lodged these, nor did any insect have aught to do with 

 their position. Examine carefully the mass of leaves and 



