364 THE WEASEL. 
were thus saved, and their owner felt a very warm gratitude towards the Weasels for their 
timely interference on his behalf. However, the Weasels, having eaten all the rats, began 
to extend their operations farther afield, and invaded the neighbouring premises 1 
search of more game. Chickens, eggs, and young rabbits were continually carried off, 
and the owner of the pond was soon as anxious to rid himself of the Weasels as he 
had been desirous of destroying the rats. The Weasels, however, were not so easily 
driven from their usurped burrows. and continued to hold their ground. 
The Weasel affords another example of the hasty manner in which so many animals 
are calumniated. It is said by Buffon to be wholly untameable, sullen, and savage, and 
to be insensible to every kindness that could be lavished upon it. Yet we find that the 
true disposition of the Weasel is of a very different character, and that there is hardly 
any of our British animals which is more keenly susceptible of kindness, or which will 
more thoroughly repay the kind treatment of a loving hand. A lady who had taken a 
fancy to a Weasel, and had sueceeded in gaining te “affections, wrote a most charming 
account of the habits of the little creature which she had taken under her protection, 
She writes as follows :— 
“Tf I pour some milk into my hand,” says this lady, “it will drink a good deal, but if 
J do not pay it this compliment it will scarcely take a drop. When satisfied, it generally 
goes to sleep. My chamber is the place of its residence ; and I have found a method of 
dispelling its strong smell by perfumes. By day, it sleeps in a quilt, into which it gets 
by an unsewn place which it has discovered on the edge; during the night, it is kept in 
a wired box or cage, which it always enters with reluctance, and leaves with pleasure. 
Tf it be set at liberty before my time of rising, after a thousand little playful tricks, 
it gets into my bed, and goes to sleep in my hand or on my bosom. If I am up first, 
it spends a full halfthour in caressimg me; playing with my fingers like a little dog, 
jumping on my head and on my neck, and running round on my arms and body 
with a lightness and elegance which I have never found in any other animal. If I 
present my hands at the distance of three feet, it jumps into them without ever 
missing. It exhibits great address and cunning to compass its ends, and seems to disobey 
certain prohibitions merely through caprice. 
During all its actions it seems solicitous to divert and to be noticed ; looking at 
every jump and at every turn to see whether it be observed or not. If no notice be 
taken of its gambols, it ceases them immediately, and betakes itself to sleep, and even 
when awakened from the soundest sleep it instantly resumes its gaiety, and frolics 
about in as sprightly a manner as before. It never shows any ill-humour, unless when 
confined, or teased too much; in which case it expresses its displeasure by a sort 
of murmur, very different from that which it utters when pleased. 
In the midst of twenty people this little animal distinguishes my voice, seeks me 
out, and springs over everybody to come at me. His play with me is the most lively and 
caressing imaginable. With his two little paws he pats me on the chin, with an air and 
manner expressive of delight. This, and a thousand other preferences, show that his 
attachment to me is real. When he sees me dressed for going out, he will not leave 
me, and it is not without some trouble that I can disengage myself from him; he then 
hides himself behind a cabinet near the door, and jumps upon me as I pass, with so 
much celerity that I often can scarcely perceive him. 
He seems to resemble a squirrel in vivacity, agility, voice, and his manner of mur- 
muring. During the summer he squeaks and runs about the house all the night long ; 
but since the commencement of the cold weather I have not observed this. Sometimes, 
when the sun shines while he is playing on the bed, he turns and tumbles about and 
murmurs for a while. 
From his delight in drinking milk out of my hand, into which I pour a very little at 
a time, and his custom of sipping the little drops and edges of the fluid, it seems probable 
that he drinks dew mm the same manner. He seldom drinks water, and then only for 
want of milk, and with great caution, seeming only to refresh his tongue once or ee 
and even to be afraid of that fluid. During ‘the hot weather it rained a good deal; 
as 
