THE SEVEN SLEEPERS 197 
it was an exceeding great digging — but we never 
got that woodchuck. 
In September and October the woodchuck devotes 
all of his time to eating. The consequence is that, by 
the time the first frost comes, he is a big gray bag 
of fat. Mr. Woodchuck does not believe in storing 
up food in his burrow, like the chipmunk. He prefers 
to be the storehouse. Soon after the first frost he 
disappears in his hole, and far down underground, 
at the end of a network of intersecting passages, 
rolls himself up in a round, warm ball, and sleeps 
until spring. 
According to the legend, on Candlemas, or Ground- 
Hog Day, — which comes on February second,— he 
peeps out, and, if he can see his shadow, goes in 
again for six more weeks of cold weather. So far this 
day has not yet been made a legal holiday. It prob- 
ably will be some time, along with Columbus Day, 
Labor Day, and other equally important days. I 
will not vouch for the fact that the weather depends 
on the shadow; but there is no doubt that the wood- 
chuck does come out of his burrow in a February 
thaw and looks around, as his tracks prove; but he is 
not interested in his shadow. No indeed! What he 
comes out for is to look for the future Mrs. Wood- 
chuck, and when he finds her he goes in again. 
Sometimes you read in nature-books that the 
woodchuck is good to eat. Don’t believe it. I 
ought to know. I ate one once. Anyone is welcome 
to my share of the world’s supply of woodchucks. 
When I camped out as a boy, we had to eat every- 
