me
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 fox's sake and theirs--
That they be taken back to the old tree;
But father--for _our_ wistful sakes, no doubt--
Said we would keep them, and would try our best
To raise them. And at once he set about
Building a snug home for the little things
Out of an old big bushel-basket, with
Its fractured handle and its stoven ribs:
So, lining and padding this all cosily,
He snuggled in its little tenants, and
Called in John Wesley Thomas, our hired man,
And gave him in full charge, with much advice
Regarding the just care and sustenance of
_Young_ foxes.--"John," he said, "you feed 'em _milk_--
_Warm_ milk, John Wesley! Yes, and _keep 'em by_
_The stove_--and keep your stove _a-roarin'_, too,
Both night and day!--And keep 'em _covered_ up--
Not _smothered_, John, but snug and comfortable.--

* * * * *

[Illustration: "THE YOUNG FOXES IN IT, ON THE HEARTH BESIDE HER."]

* * * * *

And now, John Wesley Thomas, first and last,--
You feed 'em _milk_--_fresh_ milk--and always _warm_--
Say five or six or seven times a day--
Of course we'll grade that by the way they _thrive_."
But, for all sanguine hope, and care, as well,
The little fellows _did not_ thrive at all.--
Indeed, with _all_ our care and vigilance,
By the third day of their captivity
The last survivor of the fated five
Squeaked, like some battered little rubber toy
Just clean worn out.--And that's just what it was!

And--nights,--the cry of the mother-fox for her young
Was heard, with awe, for long weeks afterward.
And we boys, every night, would go to the door
And, peering out in the darkness, listening,
Could hear the p