new habitation.

“Accordingly, next day, she sat off to look for a proper situation; she passed through the orchard hedge into a beautiful green meadow, all covered with daisies, red clover, cowslips, and golden buttercups. Here Downy resolved to find a place to live in: and she whisked about under the tall heads of the cowslips and buttercups; at last she fixed on a little green mound, such an one as you, Alfred, call a fairy’s throne, and here she began to scratch with her fore feet, till she had made a little opening in the turf, and she used such diligence, that before night she had made a hole large enough to sleep in, and though it was not lined or so warm as her house under the old apple-tree, yet she slept so sound that she never awoke till the sun had risen quite high in the heavens.

“Downy jumped up in a hurry when she saw how late it was: the birds had been up hours before her, and were all busily employed building their nests; every bush resounded with the songs of these little creatures while at work, and Downy knew she must not be idle, for she had much to do; being very hungry she first went to an oak which grew at some little distance, and here she found plenty of acorns among the leaves—of these she made a hearty meal, and carried some to where she was at work. With a great deal of care and labour she dug her house and made it quite round and smooth, as she went on, carrying it in a slanting direction along the hollow side of the hill. It cost poor Downy many a long day’s hard work before her house was completed, and many a weary nibble before she had finished lining the inside of it. Her next care was to make a secure room for stowing away her winter stores; for this purpose, she made an opening on one side of her first room, and carried a passage along some little distance, and then formed her store chamber, which she was a long time making, but it was at length completed perfectly to her own satisfaction, having rendered it a most convenient granery. She had now nothing to do but find feed for herself, and play, but Downy never came home without bringing something useful for her house, either a bit of straw or hay, a little tuft of moss, or the dried stalk of a flower; these she cut with her teeth into little bits, and laid in her nest to make it soft and warm.

“Downy was now quite happy, her mound was all covered with flowers, fine cowslips, and butter-cups, and tuft of daisies grew close to the entrance of her house, and served to hide it from the eyes of owls, mousehunts, or any of the enemies to poor mice; and Downy thought herself quite secure from all dangers: of a beautiful moonlight night she used just to peep out from under the daisies, and look at the dew drops all shining like diamonds in the moon-beams, and once she whisked on to the top of her green mount, and began to play among the flowers, but she was alarmed by the sight of a small dog running through the high grass, and she quickly retreated into her house; nor was she so imprudent again as venture out after it grew dusk. And now the grass grew long and high, the flowers began to lose their beauty, and turn brown; every thing proclaimed the approach of summer.

“The month of June began, and the mowers came to cut down the grass; Downy was fearful that they would molest her, and spoil her house, when they came near the little mount; but she trusted to the chance that they might not discover it, and she laid quite close all day.

“But poor little Downy was very sorry to see all the nice high grass and pretty flowers cut down to the ground, those flowers which had sheltered her from the sun and rain for so long.

“‘And now, (thought she), I shall certainly be caught by the great white owl; for he will be able to see me now; and I can’t hide myself under the long grass and dandelions, as I used to do, for they are all cut down and spoiled.’—Poor little Downy was in a great fright all the time that the hay-makers were at work, and when she found them coming near her house, with their great pitchforks in their hands, she remembered the fate of her mother, and all her brothers and sisters in the stack, and she thought that she should be safer in the bank of the garden hedge; which was not far off. She watched an opportunity when no one was looking, and hastened away to the hedge as fast as she could, and creeping in laid quite snug; she remained in the bank the whole day, and enjoyed herself more than could be expected, for the weather was extremely pleasant, and there was a fine bed of ripe wild strawberries close by, which smelt quite refreshing. Though Downy dared not venture back into the field for fear of being killed (for mice are but timid little things) yet she was very happy all that day; and when she saw the men leave the field with the pitchforks which had caused her so much terror, she returned to her nest, and slept that night on some new hay which she had nibbled, and brought into her house to lay on. As soon as it was day, away ran careful Downy to the bank; she peeped through the hedge, and saw every thing in the garden looking very pleasant. So Miss Downy thought she should like to spend this day in the beautiful shady garden; in she went, and soon found it as charming as it looked; for the garden abounded in plenty of good things; there were peas, and beans, and potatoes, and young carrots, and beds of ripe red strawberries. Downy did nothing but eat and enjoy herself the whole day, and did not think of returning home that day, nor for many days afterwards, for she said to herself—‘What occasion is there for me to go back to the meadow, where I have so much trouble to get food, for here is more than I could ever eat, and I have no trouble in getting it at all—and I am sure no mischief will happen to me here!’ So she gave no thought of her nice house in the field, but amused herself by eating all the day long; till she grew quite fat, and Downy thought she was happier than ever she had been in the field, and she grew very indolent, for she now began to think that there was no occasion for her to work, but she said to herself, she would play all day; and here she shewed herself to be a very simple little mouse, (as it proved in what befel her). She had been living in the garden for nearly a month, when one fine sunshiny day, she had ventured nearer to the house than usual, and was lying reposing herself in the sun by a clod of dirt, near a rain-water butt, when she was disturbed by a noise near her, and to her horror she beheld the black cat with a fine kitten by her side, proceeding down the walk where she lay; to escape was almost impossible, even the attempt was vain, and hapless Downy gave herself up for lost. A month back, and she might have trusted to her own speed for escaping—but, alas! Downy had so long been used to do nothing but eat and enjoy herself, that she was no longer able to run as swiftly as she used to do; she dared not even move a step, and sat in an agony of hopeless despair.

“Downy now lamented her folly in having left her safe retreat in the meadow: what would she now have given to have been in her own little house under the mole hill? and she bitterly regretted ever having been tempted to quit it, for there no cats ever came, and there she had lived in innocence and happiness, whilst now she was doomed to fall a victim to the merciless claws of a hungry