any precautions to prevent their winter
stores being plundered by the squirrels, who live, as it were, from hand
to mouth.

The wild mice are fond of bees and of honey, and they apparently like
nothing better than to be allowed to take up their quarters in winter in
some vacant space in a hive of bees. A chamber just over the bees seems
to be preferred, as here they get the benefit of the warmth generated by
the insects. One very cold winter I wrapped up one of my hives with a
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 elements 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 common 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
season. 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 leaps 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.

The field or meadow mice doubtless welcome the snow. They can now come
out of their dens in the ground or beneath the flat stones and lead a
more free and active life. The snow is their friend. It keeps off the
cold, and it shields their movements from the eyes of their enemies, the
owls, hawks, and foxes. Now they can venture abroad from their retreats
without fear. They make little tunnels and roadways everywhere over the
surface of the ground. They b