46 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



When the snowstorm began, he had selected a cozy 

 spot in the lee of the sweet-fern patch, and had let 

 himself be snowed over. The warmth of his body 

 had made a round, warm room, and with plenty of 

 rich fern-seeds within easy reach, he was prepared to 

 stay in winter quarters a week, if necessary. 



The stories of the snow, although often difficult 

 to read, are always interesting. After the winter 

 fairly sets in, we read nothing about the Seven 

 Sleepers who have put themselves in cold storage 

 until spring. The bear, the raccoon, the woodchuck, 

 the skunk, the chipmunk, and the jumping-mouse 

 are all fast asleep underground. The last sleeper 

 never touches the ground when awake, and sleeps 

 swinging up-side-down by the long, recurved nails 

 on his hind feet. He is the bat, who lives and hunts 

 in the air, and can out-fly any bird of his own size. 



Perhaps the most unexpected of the snow stories 

 was one which I read one winter day when out for 

 a walk with the Botanist. Although the snow was 

 on the ground, the sky was as blue as in June, as the 

 Botanist and I swung into an old road that the for- 

 gotten feet of more than two centuries had worn deep 

 below its banks. It was opened in 1691, when Will- 

 iam and Mary were king and queen, and Boston 

 Tea Parties and Liberty Bells and Declarations of 

 Independence were not yet even dreamed of in the 

 land. 



We always keep a bird-record of every walk, and 

 note down the names of the sky -folk whom we meet 

 and any interesting bit of news that they may have 



