THE WAYS OF MEADOW MICE 



AY after day we may walk 

 through the woods and fields, 

 using our eyes as best we can, search- 

 ing out every moving thing, following 

 I up every sound, and yet we touch 

 only the coarsest, perceive only the 

 grossest of the life about us. Tramp 

 the same way after a fall of snow and 

 we are astonished at the evidences of 

 life of which we knew nothing. Every- 

 where, in and out among the 

 reed stems, around the tree- 

 trunks, and in wavy lines and 

 spirals all about, runs the delicate 

 tracery of the meadow mice trails. 

 No leapers these, as are the white- 

 footed and jumping mice, but short- 

 legged and stout of body. Yet with 

 all their lack of size and swiftness, they are untiring little 





