Once there had been six little brothers and sisters, six little fluffy, plush-covered creatures with tiny silken ears of which Madam Field Mouse had been so proud it had been only a delight to take long trips over the farm for dainty tidbits, if only for the pleasure of seeing their bright black eyes sparkle as they speedily devoured them.

Once there had been six but now there were only three. Yesterday morning there had been four, and the morning before, five. Each night found one less to snuggle down in the fluffy bed of corn stalks, which Madam, their mother, had carefully shredded lest there be found something which should hurt their tender little limbs.

She looked about searchingly. Perhaps they had not all yet arisen, and she poked the nest over carefully; but her search was unrewarded and she looked sadly at Fluffy and Flossy and Flutter as she prepared to depart on her daily journey, wondering which one she should never see again. Finally she turned to Mr. Field Mouse, who was daintily combing his long whiskers with his hind foot. Mr. Field Mouse was very particular as to his appearance, and never ventured abroad unless his toilet had been properly made.

"I think, my dear, we must find a new dwelling place," she said. "This corn shock, although snug and having the advantage of containing an abundance of homely food, is yet in danger of being disturbed. I saw yesterday there were boys at the other side of the field, tearing down the shocks and pulling off the ears of corn, and I greatly fear they will continue until our home will be destroyed and our darling children eaten by the cruel dog that sits by them, watching intently. I am sure he can be looking for nothing but baby mice," and she looked tenderly at Fluffy, who was listening interestedly.

But Mr. Field Mouse only continued to comb, as if her remarks were not worthy of consideration.

She looked indignantly at him for a moment, and continued in a louder, more emphatic tone of voice: "Have you noticed, Mr. Field Mouse, that only three of our precious darlings are here? Perhaps you can tell me where Fatty has gone; he was here yesterday morning. You will remember I left them in your charge while I went to fetch some buckwheat from the bin."

He looked inquiringly about. "I have not missed any of them, my dear. You know I am not very good at arithmetic. I only left them for a few moments, a very few, while I went to fetch a bit of that sugar-cane stacked up by the fence. The juice is excellent and I felt faint," he said, apologetically. "If you are not going out this morning I think I should relish a little more." He smacked his lips appreciatively.

"You are a gourmand, Mr. Field Mouse," she said, severely, turning away in disgust as he scampered off over the stubble.

"It is fortunate that I am able to take care of myself and our children, too," she mused, digging her way to the ground and beginning to throw out the dirt with her tiny paws.

Soon a neat underground channel was dug which led out into the open air, and then Mrs. Field Mouse rested from her labors and hungrily nibbled a bit of corn.

"We can escape if worst comes to worst, darlings," she said, reassuringly.

When Mr. Field Mouse returned he looked discontentedly over the supper table where his family were contentedly nibbling at an ear of nice yellow corn. "Nothing but corn for supper," he grumbled.

Mrs. Field Mouse resolutely kept her temper and went on placidly eating. "Well, have you decided to move?" she asked, pleasantly. "I have discovered a barrel of broomcorn seed setting up in the granary that will make a snug home for the winter. No one will be likely to disturb us, and on the whole I think it will be a desirable change," she said.

"It is too far away from the pile of sugar cane to suit me, I fear," he said, curling up in the softest part of the nest, and covering his nose with his paws was soon snoring heavily.

"I think this is the shock, Sam. I am sure I heard a mouse squeal when I went by this morning. Now, Fido!"

There was a great rattling of stalks, a sharp bark, a rush and Fido licked his chops and nosed about the place where Mr. Field Mouse had been contentedly snoozing but a few moments before, but he did not find any more dainty tidbits, for Mrs. Field Mouse and her children were safely skurrying away over the stubble in the direction of the granary.

Mary Morrison.