it. 
  The snow was quite five inches deep; and we,
  Keen on the trail, were soon far in the woods. 
  Our old dog, “Ring,” ran nosing the fresh track
  With whimpering delight, far on ahead. 
  After following the trail more than a mile
  To northward, through the thickest winter woods
  We boys had ever seen,—­all suddenly
  He seemed to strike another trail; and then
  Our joyful attention was drawn to
  Old “Ring”—­leaping to this side, then to that,
  Of a big, hollow, old oak-tree, which had
  Been blown down by a storm some years before. 
  There—­all at once—­out leapt a lean old fox
  From the black hollow of a big bent limb,—­
  Hey! how he scudded!—­but with our old “Ring”
  Sharp after him—­and father after “Ring”—­
  We after father, near as we could hold! 
  And father noticed that the fox kept just
  About four feet ahead of “Ring”—­just that—­
  No farther, and no nearer!  Then he said:—­
  “There are young foxes in that tree back there,

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “A BIG, HOLLOW, OLD OAK-TREE, WHICH HAD BEEN BLOWN DOWN BY A STORM.”]

* * * * *

And the mother-fox is drawing ‘Ring’ and us Away from their nest there!” “Oh, le’ ’s go back!—­ Do le’ ’s go back!” we little vandals cried,—­ “Le’ ’s go back, quick, and find the little things—­ Please, father!—­Yes, and take ’em home for pets—­ ’Cause ‘Ring’ he’ll kill the old fox anyway!” So father turned at last, and back we went, And father chopped a hole in the old tree About ten feet below the limb from which The old fox ran, and—­Bless their little lives!—­ There, in the hollow of the old tree-trunk—­ There, on a bed of warm dry leaves and moss—­ There, snug as any bug in any rug—­ We found—­one—­two—­three—­four, and, yes-sir, five Wee, weenty-teenty baby-foxes, with Their eyes just barely opened—­Cute?—­my-oh!—­ The cutest—­the most cunning little things Two boys ever saw, in all their lives!  “Raw weather for the little fellows now!” Said father, as though talking to himself,—­ “Raw weather, and no home now!”—­And off came His warm old “waumus”; and in that he wrapped The helpless little animals, and held Them soft and warm against him as he could,—­ And home we happy children followed him.—­ Old “Ring" did not reach home till nearly dusk:  The mother-fox had led him a long chase—­

“Yes, and a fool’s chase, too!” he seemed to say, And looked ashamed to hear us praising him.  But, mother—­well, we could not understand Her acting as she did—­and we so pleased!  I can see yet the look of pained surprise And deep compassion of her troubled face When father very gently laid his coat, With the young foxes in it, on the hearth Beside her, as she brightened up the fire.  She urged—­for the old