36 WINTER 



No, I don't believe I hoped all of that, for White- 

 Foot is exceedingly fond of honey, and no roof in 

 all the out-of-doors is so much to his liking as a 

 beehive, warm with the heat of the clustered swarm ; 

 and nowhere can he make such a nuisance of him- 

 self as inside the hive. 



A robin's nest, a beehive, a linen-drawer, a wood- 

 pecker's hole almost any place will do for the 

 winter home, so thick and warm can the mice build 

 their walls, so many bins of acorns and grain do 

 they lay up, and so bold are they to forage when 

 their winter stores run low. 



I had a curious experience with a white-footed 

 mouse in the cellar one winter. The small boys had 

 carried into the cellar (to hide them from me, I im- 

 agine) about four quarts of chestnuts which they had 

 gathered. A little later, when they went to get their 

 nuts, the box was empty. Not a chestnut left ! 



"Have you eaten all our chestnuts, father?" 



" No, I haven't not a nut," I answered. 



" Well, they are all gone ! " was the wail. 



And so they were, but how, and where, we did 

 not know. House mice had not eaten them, for no 

 shells were left behind ; there were no rats or squirrels 

 in the cellar that fall ; and as for one of the small 

 boys that was past thought. The fact is, more 

 suspicion was attached to me in the case than any- 

 thing in my previous conduct called for; and, though 

 altogether guiltless, I continued to be uncomfort- 



