50 THE COMMON SQUIRREL. 



him apparently unnoticed, (for he continued up to this moment seated on 

 his hind legs eating his nuts in the most unconcerned manner,) made a 

 sudden dart at the legs of the other, uttering at the same time a slight 

 scream; whether he bit his antagonist or not I cannot say, but the latter 

 ruffled his feathers, jumped into the air with a great splutter and screaming, 

 and attempted to return the compliment; but the Squirrel was too nimble 

 for him, and most fortunately so, for one stroke of the Eaven's powerful 

 beak would have cut short the life of his foe, and at the commencement 

 of the fray I certainly thought my poor Squirrel's days were numbered ; but he 

 was a brave little fellow, and charged the Raven in the manner described 

 five or six times, and ultimately came off victorious, or at least had the 

 best of the fight, for he remained master of the field and in possession 

 of his nuts. 



Sweet almonds were the favourite food of my Squirrel, and he preferred 

 these to all kinds of nuts, probably because he had not the trouble of cracking 

 a shell, although that to him was but the work of a moment. I used fre- 

 quently to fill his basket with sweet almonds, hazel nuts, chesnuts, and 

 acorns, and I invariably found that he eat them in the order enumerated, 

 the acorns being always left till the last. He drank copiously at a neigh- 

 bouring roof-gutter, which generally supplied him with water; but in the 

 very hot dry weather I know not where he went to quench his thirst, 

 but he appeared well and happy in all weathers. 



While on the subject of Squirrels, let me caution your readers against 

 buying those carried about by men on their arms, and offered as tame 

 Squirrels. They are nothing but wild ones having the lower jaw teeth 

 sometimes filed off, but more frequently extracted, to make them harmless, 

 which cruel practice renders the poor little animals unable to take care of 

 themselves, or of tasting nuts — their natural food, and they almost invariably 

 pine away, and ultimately die of starvation. If the Society for the Pre- 

 vention of Cruelty to Animals would turn its attention to these poor little 

 sufferers, it would, I think, be employing its funds more usefully, and more 

 in accordance with the intention of its subscribers, than in squabbling as 

 to whether the Christian or Jewish mode of slaughtering cattle is the 

 least painful. 



1 make no apology for offering the above remarks to the readers of 

 "The Naturalist," for I think the fact of a Squirrel taking up his abode 

 and building a nest in a black and sooty tree in London, and of his 

 engaging in combat with a Raven, are such as have seldom if ever occurred 

 before, and are quite worthy of being recorded. 



Kennington Road, London, November, 1855. 



With regard to the hybernation of the Squirrel, alluded to above, I 



