WHITE-FOOT 31 



of which with my tapping tongs I had just roused 

 White-Foot and brought him sleepy-eyed to look 

 down at me from his door. 



The rain continued to fall down ; but my spirits 

 went up, and up, at the thought of that little 

 mouse all safe and warm for the winter in Robin's 

 deserted nest. 



And so, if "there are no birds in last year's nest," 

 as mourns a doleful poem, you need not be sad on 

 that account, for if you look closely, you may find, 

 now and then, a mouse in last year's nest and who 

 will say that finding a mouse in a bird's nest is not 

 almost as interesting as finding a bird there? 



A robin's nest in the winter-time would be the 

 wettest, muddiest, coldest place in the world for a 

 robin ; but a mouse can take that old robin's nest 

 and turn it into a snuggery (if you know what a 

 " snuggery " is) so cozy and warm that neither the 

 tip of Mr. Mouse's sharp nose, nor the tip of his 

 thin ears, nor the tippy-tip of his long bare tail ever 

 feels one sharp nip of the cold outside. 



So, if there are no birds in last year's nest (as 

 surely there ought not to be), take your tongs and 

 tap, or, better, climb up, and reach gently into the 

 nest with your finger, for a mouse may be waiting 

 inside to bite you, and that would be interesting. 



For a mouse is interesting just as interesting 

 in his mousy ways as a whale in his whalish ways, 

 or a robin in his ways. Can you name anything that 



