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The long-tailed wood-mouse a handsome fellow this, with great black liquid eyes, and weasel colouring; the harvest-mouse, that Liliputian rustic to whose deft fingers all good mouse-nests are indiscriminately assigned; the freaks, white, black, and nondescript; and, finally, the great brown rats. In the presence of the latter he had always felt nervous, but he had recognized their usefulness.
"I'll have that fox," he said, when the traps failed; and when the hound proved of no avail he still said: "I'll have him yet." "But how?" I asked. Tom said he would show me. He brought a two-bushel basket and went out into the fields. In the stone-heaps, and beside the old logs and stumps, there were dozens of deserted mouse-nests, each a wad of fine dry grass as large as a quart box.
"I'll resk him when once I get these two bread-hooks on him. And he can't smell me through the mouse-nests either." That night we set ourselves to put the stratagem in operation. With the dusk we stole out into the field where the stone-heaps were, and where we had oftenest heard foxes bark.
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