little stream, the fox family are disporting themselves. Blue Lady and six little foxes are having such a wonderful time. The mother fox lies sprawled out on the grass, while two of the pups pull her tail and two others romp over her. The two remaining pups are chasing a very lively grasshopper.
On the grassy plot above them, in a sunny place, Redcoat lies stretched to his full length, with his nose upon his paws. His eyes are partly closed, yet he sees and hears and smells everything, for his senses are all alert guarding his little family from any lurking danger. Never in his whole life has he felt so contented or safe from his enemies. The days of the Thunderer and honking automobiles and fox clubs and galloping horses all seem like a bad dream. True, an occasional fisherman wades the little stream which runs through the meadow where the foxes hunt mice, but the fishermen are not interested in foxes. Also an occasional camping party comes into this fastness to enjoy the primeval beauty of nature. But these are all peaceable people, with a
