62 The Book of Bugs. 



They say that a fox, when it thinks it has accumulated 

 all the fleas it needs, will take a bit of bark in its mouth 

 and wade slowly out into the water. The fleas keep 

 moving up to where they can stand dry-footed until 

 finally they are all crowded on that piece of bark and 

 crying to one another, ' For mercy's sakes, quit your 

 shoving ! ' Then the fox lets go the piece of bark and 

 the fleas drift off down stream, hallooing, 'Help! 

 Help ! " and looking for the signalbook to see what spells 

 ' ship not under control." Then, if ever, is when they 

 wish for wings. The fox walks back to shore flealess 

 and happy. This is a wonderful instance of the reason- 

 ing power of the lower animals, provided it's so. I don't 

 know that it is. I'm only telling you. 



While Muff was a smart cat, he wasn't smart enough 

 to wade in the water with a chip of bark in his mouth. 

 Jumping through my arms was the limit of his education. 

 I saw that it was no use to try to teach him the bark 

 trick. He wouldn't see that it was wholly for his good, 

 and would probably be offended by it. Somebody told me 

 to get a paper bag and put insect powder in that and the 

 cat, all but his head, and sort of mix them up. What 

 could be simpler ? Perhaps I didn't have a big enough 

 bag, but I never knew before how many projecting cor- 

 ners and legs a cat had. I got him in all right. I am a 

 persevering man and one not easily discouraged by trifles. 

 I won't say I wasn't marked up some, but the scratches 

 have long since passed away. I happened to have some 

 sticking plaster in the house anyhow. 



Well, sir, the fleas just bubbled up on that cat's head. 

 You see, I couldn't hold the paper bag tight enough 

 around Muff's throat without choking him. I might as 

 well have done that though as get the name of it. Insect 

 powder does not kill the fleas. It gets into their breath- 



