DOMESTICATED NATLRE. 



7i 



died from cold and starvation. Of 

 the two birds stuffed one was a male 

 with jet black, glossy feathers; the 

 other a female with grey breast. 



They would fight valiantly for pos- 

 session of their homes against the Eng- 

 lish sparrows, having been seen in two 

 instances to drag the sparrow out and 

 dash him to the ground. But few lived 

 through that inclement June and they 

 never came again to my knowledge to 

 Hubbard's, Noroton, or Clark's Hill 

 boxes. 



Experiences with Pet Bats. 



BY EVELYN GROESBEECK MITCHELL 

 WASHINGTON, D. C. 



Bats, by most people, are hardly 

 considered in the light of possible pets, 

 but, as a matter of fact, I know of 

 none more cunning and interesting. 

 They are not hard to keep, either, but 

 there is one thing that must be kept 

 in mind — they will not live in a cage. 

 They want the liberty of a room, and 

 the attic or cellar will answer very 

 well. 



I have had several bats at different 

 times ; three brown, two black, one red 

 and one hoary. They stayed in my 

 care from three months to over a year 

 when I let them go, with the excep- 

 tion of the hoary, which, through neg- 

 lect in my absence, died in a few 

 weeks from the time he was caught. 



My first bat was a little black fel- 

 low, brought me by a highly excited 

 Irish lad, who had found the "quare 

 mouse" in his cellar. I turned the 

 furious, scuffling, wee beastie loose in 

 a box with glass sides and wire top, 

 where he hung himself upside down. 

 There he hissed and squeaked to his 

 heart's content, raising a terrific fuss 

 at my near approach. If his body had 

 been as large as his temper, I have no 

 doubt that I should have been swal- 

 lowed at one gulp. For a whole day 

 the obstinate little scamp starved him- 

 self, snappishly refusing flies offered 

 on a straw. Thinking that the way to 

 his heart would best be found through 

 his appetite, I finally popped flies into 

 the wide-open mouth. The first two 

 or three he spat out angrily, but soon 

 shut his jaws on one by mistake. 

 Then he concluded that eating was a 



far pleasanter and more profitable oc- 

 cupation than scolding, though for 

 some time he continued to give me a 

 piece of his mind in the intervals be- 

 tween Hies. Within a couple of days, 

 however, we were on the best of terms, 

 and he would lift his queer little square 

 nose at me with a pleased twitter very 

 different from his first angry, shrill 

 squeaks. Then I let him loose in my 

 room, where he hung up on a bunch of 

 sea-weed, but shut him up when the 

 lights were on. 



All the bats, except the red one, were 

 very easily tamed, soon learning who 

 fed them and snuggling cosily down in 

 my hand to eat or take a nap. Dear, 

 cuddly things they were, like soft 

 floss silk, with such bright beads of 

 black eyes. As for their wings — well, 

 dead bat's wings may be leathery, but 

 these live ones were like the most deli- 

 cate Japanese silk crepe. The mem- 

 brane is very sensitive, but after a 

 while my pets would allow me to 

 gently spread their wings. 



Their tiny teeth were needle-like, 

 but although they occasionally flew 

 into a ridiculous rage and treated some 

 one to a nip, their puggy jaws were 

 too small to allow of serious damage. 

 The little red bat had a frightful tem- 

 per, screaming as if he were possessed 

 and nipping at the slightest provoca- 

 tion. The hoary was very gentle and 

 even affectionate, loving to have his 

 head and back scratched with a bit of 

 stick, as did most of the others. Had 

 he lived he would have been the nicest 

 pet of all, since he was large enough 

 to be easily handled and had very 

 beautiful dark brown fur with snowy 

 frostings. He seemed the most intelli- 

 gent, though none of them were stu- 

 pid. .Most of them objected to stran- 



gers 



The bats used to begin to get hun- 

 gry and fly about any time after two 

 in the afternoon, generally late when 

 it was bright or hot, and quite early 

 on cloudy days. They would swoop 

 low, catch on my skirt near my 

 knees and come scrambling and chat- 

 tering up to be fed. As they proved 

 to have storage room for as many as 

 80 or 90 flies during the day, I soon 

 gave up that method of feeding, since 



