Evening star., 1944-12-21
This and That
By Charles E. Trace,DeH.

Inc december garden may seem bare,
but life continues in it just the same.
Even the trees. the shrubs and the ever
green's have residual activity Some
growth in the grass is plainly evident
There is more here than the whisper
of few dried leaves. Something very
much alive Is sneaking around the cor
ner of the garage. 1t is q rat! Maybe
you will take stock, now, in the appeal
OF of1cials to make rat control home
matter.
The presence of a few rats shows
nothing except that thev have found
a dry wall to their liking. or a pile of
wood which gives them shelter Every
neighborhood, even the best, has its rats.
They come from the sewers, driven out
by the necessity for seeking food and
through the urge for exercise and ex-
ploration which they share with all
animals.
The thing to do, when rat is seen Is
to get after it right away. Later will not
do. Put out some ground meat or fish
literally sprinkled with red squill Poke
teaspoonful-sized bits far back in the
holes, or beneath upturned boxes with
one edge on brick. Be suspicious of all
drains which carry of water. Bait
them, too.
Shyly rustling through the leaves of
the garden twilight comes a meadow
mouse, tiny cousin of the rat How
much better than a rat, though! No
doubt he has a tunnel dug beneath the
garage. Let us hope he gets none of the
red SQuil, because he is not bad fellow,
as rodents go.
II it were the country, however, it
would be different. The meadow mouse
does great deal of damage there, but
here in the suburbs or even in the city
he Is more interesting than anything
else.
Surely he is one of the gayest and
most capable Of creatures, finding. the
coldest days just lark. His blood beats
warm. For some reason the curious
overload Of life has given him all that
he requires. And he is under no neces-
s1ty for praises or grand salaams. Life
to him means doing, not thinking. It is
questionable whether thinking could do
any more for him. Man may question,
at times, whether thinking has done
much for his own outlook.
Eyes carefully buttressed with plenty
OF vitamin suddenly see an upright
shape out on the mound. This mound,
as 1t is called, was the heap of earth
gradually worked up by two large locust
trees which later fell in storm. They
are gone now, used up in fences and the
fireplace, but the mound remains, a
monument to their standing.
On that mound now, in the dusk, sits
wild rabbit, deep brown, with little
white on him. His cotton tail fairly
CLEANS. He is standing as still as a
statue, not being afraid of rats or
meadow mice, or even of humans, when
the latter remain still, too
II -
The wild rabbit hops over the ground,
or rather lopes over it. For him this is
the beginning of day All during the
light hours, when the dogs were around,
he kept close and warm in his retreat at
the base Of great tree
1t is cunningly wrought place, made
IN the hollow between the roots as they
come to the surface. It Is covered over
with gray wool, material which greatly
resembles the fun from the bag of q
vacuum sweeper.
In the spring 1t was possible to lift the
gray fun OF as If it were a lid and look
down at huddle of five babies. So
carefully had they been hidden that
snuming dogs always went by.
, Now on the mound the big rabbit
searches for food, trying a nibble from
time to time at various leaves, dry, but
with some Juice still left In them. The
grass, still green, offers plenty to a
hungry rabbit.
The garden still is very much alive.
1t VIII be more alive than ever II the
householder takes the trouble and SLIGHT
expense to feed the birds daily. or even
put out crumbs when the snow Is on
the ground. Every bit Of food is doubly
relished by the wild things which seek
the yard as q refuge. Squirrels alone
convert any seemingly dull and gray
| winter yard into three-ringed circus.