46 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
When the snowstorm began, he had selected a cozy 
spot in the lee of the sweet-fern patch, and had let 
himself be snowed over. The warmth of his body 
had made a round, warm room, and with plenty of 
rich fern-seeds within easy reach, he was prepared to 
stay in winter quarters a week, if necessary. 
The stories of the snow, although often difficult 
to read, are always interesting. After the winter 
fairly sets in, we read nothing about the Seven 
Sleepers who have put themselves in cold storage 
until spring. The bear, the raccoon, the woodchuck, 
the skunk, the chipmunk, and the jumping-mouse 
are all fast asleep underground. The last sleeper 
never touches the ground when awake, and sleeps 
swinging up-side-down by the long, recurved nails 
on his hind feet. He is the bat, who lives and hunts 
in the air, and can out-fly any bird of his own size. 
Perhaps the most unexpected of the snow stories 
was one which I read one winter day when out for 
a walk with the Botanist. Although the snow was 
on the ground, the sky was as blue as in June, as the 
Botanist and I swung into an old road that the for- 
gotten feet of more than two centuries had worn deep 
below its banks. It was opened in 1691, when Will- 
iam and Mary were king and queen, and Boston 
Tea Parties and Liberty Bells and Declarations of 
Independence were not yet even dreamed of in the 
land. 
We always keep a bird-record of every walk, and 
note down the names of the sky-folk whom we meet 
and any interesting bit of news that they may have 
