stunned and blinded by the glare. Still, in that
moment, he had caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar world, leafless,
lifeless, silent, miserable. He tucked his nose between his four paws,
swung his tail across his eyes, and waited patiently for the darkness.
With the darkness came the cold. It stole upon him gently, quelled the
heart-throb, reclenched the tiny fists, and lulled him to forget.

* * * * *

It was better the next time. The old hazel was making coquettish efforts
to renew its youth. It had hung its last remaining shoot with dancing
catkins. Here and there lurked a crimson bud, ready to catch the floating
pollen. On the sloping banks below were splotches of violet and primrose,
and, over all, hung the green shimmer of spring.

To the dormouse's eyes the glare was, for the first few moments, as
painful as before, but this time it was tempered with moisture. Great
rain-drops swung on the swaying grass-stems and twinkled with a thousand
prismatic colours. The slow drip of the woods resounded in his ears.

As his hearing sharpened, the old familiar sounds returned, the chirping
of the titmice, the starling's discord, the sniggering of the robin, the
squirrel's bullying cough. How he had hated the squirrel--a midget
incarnation of mischief, whose whole life was spent in practical joking.
How often had he heard that hateful cough shot into his ear, as My Lady
Shadowtail whisked past him, a sinuous brown flash curling round the tree
trunk! How often had he promptly dropped his hard-earned nut in
consequence, only to see it seized by a field-mouse! How often had he
swung at the end of a tapering twig, while the squirrel feinted at him
with all four paws!

He looked up, and caught the squirrel's eye.

"What, awake?" she shouted. "It's not quite time for good little dormice.
You wait till it's dark, and see how cool it is. Why, even with my tail
(and she bent it into a figure of eight to show its amplitude) it is hard
enough to keep warm."

[Illustration: MY LADY SHADOWTAIL. MOTHER!]

"Chuc!"

The dormouse had felt it coming, and had discreetly retired. As it was,
the better part of the roof caved in, the result of slight mistiming on
the part of the squirrel.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," said the dormouse.

He was addressing vacancy, for the squirrel had in the mean time completed
the circuit of three tree-tops. She was back again, however, in time to
catch the next remar