But as they ate, a man all at once opened the door, and the mice were in such fear that they ran into a crack.
Then when they would eat some nice figs, in came a maid to get a pot of honey or a bit of cheese; and when they saw her, they hid in a hole.
Then the Field Mouse would eat no more, but said to the Town Mouse: “Do as you like, my good friend; eat all you want, have your fill of good things, but you are always in fear of your life. As for me, poor Mouse, who have only corn and wheat, I will live on at home, in no fear of any one.”
—Aesop.
A DUTCH WINTER.
The windmills of Holland are silent and stilled,
Their whirling has ceased, for their long arms are chilled.
The ice-prisoned boats are hung with a lace