“Now, boys, before we go home I am going to show you something. I found it the other day when taking a walk.”
Uncle George led the children to the end of the field, and pointed to a strange object among the corn. It was a nest of some sort. It was made of dried grass, and hung from five or six wheat stalks. It was round like a cricket-ball, and just about as big.
“It is the nest of the harvest-mouse,” said Uncle George in a low voice. “Keep still, and perhaps we shall see Mistress Mousie.”
The children waited a long time looking at the curious little object. At last a tiny brown creature ran up one of the wheat stalks and went into the nest. It seemed to go right through the wall of its little house. There was no hole to be seen where it went in. Then Uncle George clapped his hands. At once two wee brown mice came out.
They slid down the corn stalks and were out of sight in a moment.
“Ha! Mr and Mrs Mousie, we have disturbed you,” said Uncle George. “We will now go nearer and see your nest.”
“I can’t see where they came out,” said Tom. “There is no hole to be seen.”
Uncle George pointed out to the children how the nest was woven together and fixed to the wheat stalks. He then took a pencil from his pocket and moved aside some of the dried grass. The children looked in and saw a family of naked little mice cuddled up together. They could not tell how many there were; but Uncle George said that there were eight or nine young ones as a rule in a harvest-mouse’s nest.
“What will become of these wee mice when the corn is ripe?” Tom asked.
“They will perhaps be grown up and able to take care of themselves by that time, Tom,” said Uncle George.