A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY 67 



is feeding out of your hand when it takes alarm at ap- 

 parently nothing, and, before you can realise what has 

 happened, it has disappeared. After a search it is found 

 under the sofa, on the mantelpiece, or out in the garden. 

 I know of one who took refuge in its owner's skirts. 

 She had to retire to her room and divest herself of 

 sundry garments before she could recover it. Once, 

 in trying to catch a baby squirrel that was about to 

 leap off the table, I seized the end of its tail ; to my 

 astonishment the squirrel went off, leaving the ter- 

 minal inch of its caudal appendage in my hand, nor 

 did the severance of its note of interrogation seem to 

 cause it any pain. A squirrel's tail, like a lamp brush, 

 is composed mainly of bristles. 



