HARD FARE 59 



of my hives witli my shawl. Before long I noticed 

 that the shawl was beginning to have a very torn 

 and tattered appearance. On examination, I found 

 that a native mouse had established itself in the 

 top of the hive, and had levied a ruinous tax upon 

 the shawl to make itself a nest. Never was a 

 fabric more completely reduced into its original ele- 

 ments than were large sections of that shawl. It 

 was a masterly piece of analysis. The work of the 

 wheel and the loom was exactly reversed, and what 

 was once shawl was now the finest and softest of 

 wool. The white-footed mouse is much more com- 

 mon along the fences and in the woods than one 

 would suspect. One winter day I set a mouse-trap 

 — the kind known as the delusion trap — beneath 

 some ledges in the edge of the woods, to determine 

 what species of mouse was most active at this sea- 

 son. The snow fell so deeply that I did not visit 

 my trap for two or three weeks. When I did so, 

 it was literally packed full of white-footed mice. 

 There were seven in all, and not room for another. 

 Our woods are full of these little creatures, and 

 they appear to have a happy, social time of it, even 

 in the severest winters. Their little tunnels under 

 the snow and their hurried strides upon its surface 

 may be noted everywhere. They link tree and 

 stump, or rock and tree, by their pretty trails. 

 They evidently travel for adventure and to hear the 

 news, as well as for food. They know that foxes 

 and owls are about, and they keep pretty close to 

 cover. When they cross an exposed place, they do 

 it hurriedly. 



