The drawing of winter's curtain always reveals a 
multitude of silent activities. Nature has not been 
dead nor yet sleeping, but has been quietly active 
through the long months of snow. The root leaves 
of Asters and Goldenrods are green and vigorous. 
The Evening Primrose has withstood the frost. The 
Dandelion is green with promise. All the evergreens 
are awaiting a welcome. But the revelations of 
animal activity are far more interesting. Ramified 
burrows of the little Field Mice and Shore Mice are 
still preserved in the melting masses of icy snow 
lingering in shaded hollows. These little fellows are 
not really Mice, but they are so diminutive that it 
seems ridiculous to call them by the aggressive name 
“ Arvicola.” They are closely related to the Beaver, 
and during the long winter have made an unusual 
attempt to imitate the ways of their big, industrious 
cousin. They have not been content, as usual, with 
girdling the small trees under the snow. In many 
places they have cut down shrubs as thick as the 
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