MAMMALS. 125 



out to be a young squirrel badly bitten in its 

 hind-quarters. Although it had its eyes open it 

 was too young to have travelled far without assist- 

 ance, and as we conjectured the nest to which 

 it belonged could not be a great distance away, 

 we made a cast round to find it, and speedily 

 succeeded in doing so. It was situated some 

 thirty feet from the ground, in the fork of an ivy- 

 clad beech-tree. My brother went up to investi- 

 gate, and discovered that the nest, which had 

 been built of soft dead grass, strips of fibrous 

 bark, and withered leaves that had been gathered 

 green, was in great disorder, and only contained 

 the tail of a baby squirrel. In descending the 

 tree, however, he fell in with a third youngster, 

 clinging in a most terrified state of mind to the 

 ivy, but, happily, otherwise quite unharmed. 



We carried the pair home and fed them with 

 cow's milk, which we poured into the palm of 

 the hand and then dipped their noses in until 

 they learnt to lap. I dressed the wounds of 

 the bitten one, but he never appeared to get 

 over them, and in a fortnight or so died, to the 

 great grief of my little daughters, who are ex- 

 cessively fond of animals. The other grew up a 

 fine strong fellow, with a handsome bushy tail. 

 He used to roam all over the house, and one of 

 his especial delights was to play the piano by 

 running backwards and forwards at a great rate 

 across its keys. Nearly every evening when I 



