THE HEDGEHOG 



rooting here, nosing there, champing up first 

 one morsel and then another. Suddenly I 

 felt I must sneeze, do what I would I should 

 have to, and like all suppressed sneezes it came 

 out with a dreadful explosion. I expected to 

 see the hog rolled up into a spiny ball, but, 

 though the spines along its back rose in 

 response to the noise for a moment, they soon 

 went down again, and it went on hunting as 

 before. Neither sight nor sound seriously 

 frightened it, but the matter was different when 

 I moved on : it curled up promptly, showing that 

 it felt the thumps of the footsteps in an instant. 

 The home and living place of the hedgehog 

 is generally down a disused rabbit hole in some 

 dry hedge bank, but a crevice between stones, 

 a cavity under an old tree stump, or a crack in 

 a wall will serve it equally well if roomy enough, 

 dry, and warm. Here it makes its bed, carry- 

 ing in quantities of grass, leaves, and moss. 

 I have watched a hedgehog making its nest. 

 It collected mouthful after mouthful of leaves, 

 carrying them, with its head rather high in the 

 air, down a hole near at hand, and soon coming 

 out again for more. It went on, journeying 

 backwards and forwards, until it must have 

 taken quite a lot of bedding in. It is, indeed, 



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