^§e &a^ of tS}t &iX\Xb 



hawks, and owls leave! Rights or no, hay or no, I 

 don't jump at my meadow mice any more, for fear of 

 killing one who has taken a cup of cold water from 

 me off the plank, or has had my helping hand out of 

 the depths of the spring. 



It is wholesome to be the good Samaritan to a 

 meadow mouse, to pour out, even waste, a little of 

 the oil and wine of sympathy on the humblest of our 

 needy neighbors. 



Here are the chimney swallows. One can look with 

 complacency, with gratitude, indeed, upon the swal- 

 lows of other chimneys, as they hawk in the sky ; yet, 

 when the little creatures, so useful, but so uncombed 

 and unfumigated, set up their establishments in jyottr 

 chimney, to the jeopardy of the whole house, then 

 you need an experience like mine. 



I had had a like experience years before, when the 

 house did not belong to me. Now, however, the 

 house was mine, and if it became infested because of 

 the swallows, I could not move away ; so I felt like 

 burning them in the chimney, bag and baggage. 

 There were four nests, as nearly as I could make 

 out, and, from the frequent squeakings, I knew they 

 were all filled with young. Then one day, when the 



96 



