| | PAGE |
| The feast is finished and the games are on | [Frontispiece] |
| The cheerful little goldfinches, that bend the dried ragweeds | [7] |
| There she stood in the snow with head high, listening anxiously And—dreamed | [16] |
| I shivered as the icy flakes fell thicker and faster | [22] |
| The meadow-mouse | [25] |
| It was Whitefoot | [30] |
| From his leafless height he looks down into the Hollow | [33] |
| Uncle Jethro limbered his stiffened knees and went chuckling down the bank | [36] |
| The big moon was rising over the meadows | [39] |
| Section of muskrat's house | [40] |
| The snow has drifted over their house till only a tiny mound appears | [43] |
| They rubbed noses | [45] |
| Two little brown creatures washing calamus. | [46] |
| They probe the lawns most diligently for worms | [57] |
| Even he loves a listener | [58] |
| She flew across the pasture | [61] |
| A very ordinary New England "corner" | [64] |
| They are the first to return in the spring | [67] |
| Where the dams are hawking for flies | [70] |
| They cut across the rainbow | [75] |
| The barn-swallows fetch the summer | [77] |
| From the barn to the orchard | [78] |
| Across the road, in an apple-tree, built a pair of redstarts | [80] |
| Gathered half the gray hairs of a dandelion into her beak | [83] |
| In the tree next to the chebec's was a brood of robins. The crude nest was wedged carelessly into the lowest fork of the tree, so that the cats and roving boys could help themselves without trouble | [85] |
| I soon spied him on the wires of a telegraph-pole | [88] |
| He will come if May comes | [91] |
| Within a few feet of me dropped the lonely frightened quail | [92] |
| On they go to a fence-stake | [94] |
| It was a love-song | [96] |
| But the pair kept on together, chatting brightly | [101] |
| In a dead yellow birch | [103] |
| So close I can look directly into it | [104] |
| "Spring! spring! spring!" | [114] |
| A wretched little puddle | [117] |
| Calamity is hot on his track | [140] |
| Bunny, meantime, is watching just inside the next brier-patch | [143] |
|
| The squat is a cold place | [145] |
| The limp, lifeless one hanging over the neck of that fox | [148] |
| His drop is swift and certain | [153] |
| Seven young ones in the nest | [159] |
| I knew it suited exactly | [166] |
| With tail up, head cocked, very much amazed, and commenting vociferously | [168] |
| In a solemn row upon the wire fence | [171] |
| Young flying-squirrels | [172] |
| The sentinel crows are posted | [174] |
| She turned and fixed her big black eyes hard on me | [179] |
| Wrapped up like little Eskimos | [180] |
| It is no longer a sorry forest of battered, sunken stumps | [183] |
| Even the finger-board is a living pillar of ivy | [186] |
| In October they are building their winter lodges | [199] |
| The glimpse of Reynard in the moonlight | [202] |
