Manchester Memoirs, Vol. Ixiii. (1919) No. 2 9 



Anyway, he had never seen one eat an apple. In England, he added, 

 he had never even seen a Hedgehog. 



" The man's whole manner had every appearance of sincerity, and 

 I do not doubt that he himself believed honestly in the truth of what 

 he told me, whether it was in fact correct or not." 



Finally, I have, within the last few weeks, come across a case which 

 seems still more to the point, having talked with a perfectly-credible 

 witness, in my own employ, who assures me (whether mistakenly or 

 not) that he himself once actually saw a Hedgehog so engaged. The 

 circumstances were these : — - 



I have, in a wood which forms part of the grounds attached to my 

 house, several large wild crab-trees. These usually bear heavy crops 

 of crabs, from which, in most years, excellent jelly and "cheese" is 

 made. Last season (19 18), the crop was unfortunately very light; but, 

 in such an apple-less year, it was, of course, of special value. On i6th 

 September, deeming that the crabs were sufficiently ripe to be gathered 

 and that they were liable to be stolen if left longer, I ordered a ladder 

 to be brought and I ascended into the tree. With me was an old 

 farm-labourer, George Franklin by name, who has worked for me for 

 six or seven years and is now over eighty years of age. Like 

 many old men of the kind who can neither read nor write, he is 

 remarkably intelligent in regard to matters which are within his 

 cognizance. I know him well enough to be able to assert that, in 

 a direct statement, I would as soon accept his word as that of an 

 average Prime Minister ! With him (to help in picking up the crabs 

 as I threw them down) was his grandson, aged about eight. We had 

 nearly done, when, finding we had gathered less than a bushel, I urged 

 them to search further for other crabs which might have become 

 hidden among the grass and bushes. 



"Why, master,'' [says Franklin in his broad Essex dialect] "you 

 should leave a few for the poor Hedgehogs." 



" Hedgehogs ! " said I, " what do they want them for ? " 



"Why," [replied he] "they eat them. I once saw one carrying 

 some home on his back." 



Instantly the old legend flashed into my mind. I had not been 

 even thinking of it previously, so could not possibly have put the idea 

 into his head ; while probably he has never heard of (and quite 

 certainly he has never read) Pliny. Feeling interested, I asked him 

 for further- particulars. It was (he told me) one evening in the autumn 

 of an extremely hot and dry summer five or six years ago— no doubt 

 1914 — and probably in October, as the crabs had fallen. He had 

 been engaged all day helping in the threshing of a stack of beans, and 

 was walking home through the fields about six o'clock, just as it was 

 getting dusk, when, looking over a gate into a meadow, he saw, not 

 more than three (and, possibly, not two) yards from him, a Hedgehog 



