DAYS IN DOVE DALE 83 



suddenly it would twirl round like a whirligig, 

 then fall down and roll over and over as if 

 in agony ; it would then hide under the grass, 

 perfectly quiet, as if dead. It did not seem 

 to mind my presence at all. 



" Wee, sleekit, cowerin', timorous beastie, 

 Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie ! " 



I fancied it must have been stung or in- 

 jured in some way, so I took it up in my 

 hand, where it seemed to be contented and 

 easy for a time ; then it would resume those 

 curious contortions, then rush up my sleeve, 

 then lie perfectly still, with its little cheek 

 huddled against the palm of my hand. 



I examined it as carefully and tenderly as 

 I could ; but I could discover no injury. I 

 carried it in this way on the palm of my hand 

 for a considerable distance, till I met the old 

 donkey-women, who told me it was called a 

 shreiv in those parts, that it gives out a musk- 

 like smell, and that cats would not touch it; 

 but I still maintain that it was a field-mouse, 

 for a shrew, I find, is insectivorous, which I 

 soon discovered my mouse was not. 



On stroking its fur once or twice the wrong 



