was a pretty sight, and a seasonable one, that met their eyes when they
flung the door open. In the fore-court, lit by the dim rays of a horn
lantern, some eight or ten little field-mice stood in a semicircle, red
worsted comforters round their throats, their fore-paws thrust deep into
their pockets, their feet jigging for warmth. With bright beady eyes
they glanced shyly at each other, sniggering
a little, sniffing and applying coat-sleeves a good deal. As the door
opened, one of the elder ones that carried the lantern was just saying,
“Now then, one, two, three!” and forthwith their shrill little voices
uprose on the air, singing one of the old-time carols that their
forefathers composed in fields that were fallow and held by frost, or
when snow-bound in chimney corners, and handed down to be sung in the
miry street to lamp-lit windows at Yule-time.”

~Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows.

Illustration:Carol Of The Field Mice.
from The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
by Inga Moore.



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