WILD LIFE OF ORCHARD AND FIELD 



WILD MICE 



HEN every stream in its pent- 

 house 



Goes gurgling on its way, 

 And in his gallery the mouse 

 Nibbleth the meadow hay; 



" Methinks the summer still is 



nigh, 



And lurketh underneath, 

 As that same meadow -mouse 



doth lie 



Snug in that last year's 

 heath. " THOREAU. 



WALKING about the fields, 

 I come upon tiny pathways as 

 plain as Indian trails, which 

 lead in and out among the grass 

 and weed-stalks, like roads for 

 the tiny chariots of Queen Mab. 

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