| PAGE |
| The feast is finished and the games are on | Frontispiece |
| Ripe and rimy with November's frosts | 5 |
| Swinging from the limbs by their long prehensile tails | 7 |
| Under such conditions he looks quite like a ferocious beast | 10 |
| Filing through the corn-stubs | 13 |
| Here on the fence we waited | 16 |
| He had stopped for a meal on his way out | 20 |
| Playing possum | 22 |
| She was standing off a dog | 26 |
| The cheerful little goldfinches, that bend the dried ragweeds | 37 |
| There she stood in the snow with head high, listening anxiously | 45 |
| And—dreamed | 46 |
| I shivered as the icy flakes fell thicker and faster | 52 |
| The meadow-mouse | 55 |
| It was Whitefoot | 60 |
| From his leafless height he looks down into the Hollow | 63 |
| It caught at the insects in the air | 71 |
| Unlike any bird of the light | 77 |
| They peek around the tree-trunks | 83 |
| The sparrow-hawk searching the fences for them | 88 |
| In October they are building their winter lodges | 103 |
| The glimpse of Reynard in the moonlight | 106 |
| They probe the lawns most diligently for worms | 117 |
| Even he loves a listener | 118 |
| She flew across the pasture | 121 |
| Putting things to rights in his house | 122 |
| A very ordinary New England "corner" | 124 |
| They are the first to return in the spring | 127 |
| Where the dams are hawking for flies | 130 |
| They cut across the rainbow | 135 |
| The barn-swallows fetch the summer | 137 |
| From the barn to the orchard | 138 |
| Across the road, in an apple-tree, built a pair of redstarts | 140 |
| Gathered half the gray hairs of a dandelion into her beak | 143 |
| In the tree next to the chebec's was a brood of robins. The crude nest was wedged carelessly into the lowest fork of the tree, so that the cats and roving boys could help themselves without trouble | 145 |
| I soon spied him on the wires of a telegraph-pole | 148 |
| He will come if May comes | 151 |
| Within a few feet of me dropped the lonely frightened quail | 152 |
| On they go to a fence-stake | 154 |
| It was a love-song | 156 |
| But the pair kept on together, chatting brightly | 161 |
| In a dead yellow birch | 163 |
| So close I can look directly into it | 164 |
| Uncle Jethro limbered his stiffened knees and went chuckling down the bank | 170 |
| The big moon was rising over the meadows | 173 |
| Section of muskrat's house | 174 |
| The snow has drifted over their house till only a tiny mound appears | 177 |
| They rubbed noses | 179 |
| Two little brown creatures washing calamus | 180 |
| She melted away among the dark pines like a shadow | 186 |
| She called me every wicked thing that she could think of | 189 |
| It was one of those cathedral-like clumps | 191 |
| They were watching me | 192 |
| A triumph of love and duty over fear | 199 |
| He wants to know where I am and what I am about | 203 |
| In the agony of death | 205 |
| Calamity is hot on his track | 212 |
| Bunny, meantime, is watching just inside the next brier-patch | 215 |
| The squat is a cold place | 217 |
| The limp, lifeless one hanging over the neck of that fox | 220 |
| His drop is swift and certain | 225 |
| Seven young ones in the nest | 231 |
| The land of the mushroom | 239 |
| Witch-hazel | 244 |
| I knew it suited exactly | 252 |
| With tail up, head cocked, very much amazed, and commenting vociferously | 254 |
| In a solemn row upon the wire fence | 257 |
| Young flying-squirrels | 258 |
| The sentinel crows are posted | 260 |
| She turned and fixed her big black eyes hard on me | 265 |
| Wrapped up like little Eskimos | 266 |
| It is no longer a sorry forest of battered, sunken stumps | 269 |
| Even the finger-board is a living pillar of ivy | 272 |
| A family of seven young skunks | 284 |
| The family followed | 289 |
| "Spring! spring! spring!" | 300 |
| A wretched little puddle | 303 |
| He was trying to swallow something | 307 |
| In a state of soured silence | 322 |
| Ugliness incarnate | 325 |
| Sailing over the pines | 328 |
| A banquet this sans toasts and cheer | 333 |
| Floating without effort among the clouds | 337 |
| From unknown regions of the ocean | 345 |
| A crooked, fretful little stream | 346 |
| Swimming, jumping, flopping, climbing, up he comes! | 349 |
| Here again hungry enemies await them | 355 |
