THE MOUSE.

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1.  Harry came running in one day to say that he had seen a little animal in the field.

2.  ’It ran so fast, I could hardly see it.  I looked a long time for it, and so did Dora, but we could not find it.  Now, what do you think it could be, mother?’

[Illustration]

3.  Then in came Dora, ’It had a long tail, and was very little, and made no noise at all.’

4.  ‘It may have been a mouse,’ said their mother; ‘very likely it was.’

’But mice live indoors, do they not, and eat cheese, and run about in the walls, and make holes?’

5.  ‘How do you know all this?’

‘I have heard them at grandmother’s,’ said Harry.  ’Do they ever live out of doors?’

6.  ’A good many do.  There is a pretty little thing called a harvest-mouse.  It makes a nest like a bird’s, and hangs it up on a stalk of wheat.’

[Illustration:  The Harvest Mouse and Nest.]

7.  ‘I wish there had been one in our wheat!’ said Dora.  ’I should like to see the little nest and the baby-mice peeping out.  They must be very, very small.’

8.  ’Yes, the harvest-mouse is the very smallest four-footed animal we have.  Then there is a field-mouse with a long tail, and a field-mouse with a short tail.  Mr Short-tail likes to nibble at young trees.’

‘Ah, that is not our mouse!  He had a long tail.’

9.  ‘And then there is a wood-mouse.’

‘Has he a short tail or long tail?’ asked Harry.

’Long.  I must tell you about a man who used to go out in the night in wild places to see what birds and beasts were doing when most of us were in bed.

10.  ‘One of the things he found out was that field-mice could sing!’

‘Don’t they squeak?’

’Yes; and he often heard them go on for hours making a kind of singing.

11.  ’Sometimes they were close by him as he lay on the ground, and he would put out his hand to catch one.  But when he opened it again it was full of grass or moss or leaves; and there was no mouse.’

‘Did he never catch one?’

‘Never.’

THE FIELD-MOUSE.

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    1.  Where the acorn tumbles down,
          Where the ash-tree sheds its berry,
        With your fur so soft and brown,
          With your eyes so soft and merry,
        Scarcely moving the long grass,
        Field-mouse, I can see you pass.

    2.  Little thing, in what dark den,
          Lie you all the winter sleeping,
        Till warm weather comes again? 
          Then once more I see you peeping
        Round about the tall tree roots,
        Nibbling at their fallen fruits.