A COLD WAVE. 21 



for never, I thought, had I found thorns so sharp, 

 so slender, and so thickly set. 



But not birds alone had sought shelter here ; 

 the mice also had been driven from the wind- 

 swept meadows, and these ventured into the 

 sunlight, but were cautious to a marked degree. 

 None came very near, and when I was in full 

 view they stopped, sat upon their haunches and 

 felt sure, if I correctly read their thoughts, that 

 all was not quite right. Not one passed by me. 

 Their keen noses detected what the proverbially 

 keen sight of the birds had failed to discover, 

 that I was not a harmless bit of driftwood. Or 

 did the sense of hearing catch the sound of my 

 breathing? Explain it as one may, meadow- 

 mice were never before so knowing, and I recall 

 the charge that I have often made, that they are 

 stupid. 



So here I sat for two whole hours, yet not 

 aware that so long a time had elapsed. It mat- 

 tered nothing that the fierce wind raged above 

 me ; that the bending oaks echoed it's heartless 

 boast : 



" I come from the fields of the frozen north, 



O'er the waste of the trackless sea, 

 Where the winter sun looks wearily forth, 

 And yieldeth his strength to me." 



This lessened not my comfort nor quickened 

 my homeward steps. Wrapping my cloak the 



