The Lay of the Band 
But this is thesis work for the doctors of philo- 
sophy, not a task for farmers and mere watchers in 
the woods. The chipmunks are in no danger be- 
cause of my zeal for science; not that I am uninter- 
ested in the capacity of their cheeks in terms of 
oats, but that I am more interested in the whole 
squirrel, the whole family of squirrels. 
When the first frosts come, the family —if they 
are still a family —seek the nest in the ground 
beneath the stone wall. But they do not go to sleep 
immediately. Their outer entrances have not yet 
been closed. There is still plenty of fresh air, and, 
of course, plenty of food, —acorns, chestnuts, hickory 
nuts, and oats. They doze quietly for a time and eat, 
pushing the empty shells and hulls into some side 
passage prepared beforehand to receive the débris. 
But soon the frost is creeping down through the 
stones and earth overhead, the rains are filling the 
outer doorways and shutting off the supply of fresh 
air, and one day, though not sound sleepers, the 
family cuddles down and forgets to wake, — until 
the frost has begun to creep back toward the sur- 
face, and down through the softened soil is felt the 
thrill of the waking spring. 
