x. FLITTERMICE. 133 



toe" (on the furthest confines, mark you, of the soul's 

 dominions), " so very small indeed, that the head of a pin 

 could scarcely be received into the wound, which is conse- 

 quently not painful, yet, through this orifice " (the little 

 rift within the lute that by and by will make the music 

 mute), "he continues to suck the blood, until he is obliged 

 to disgorge. He then begins again, and thus continues 

 sucking and disgorging" (oh, fiendish animated pump!) 

 "till he is scarcely able to fly; and the sufferer has often 

 been known to sleep from time into eternity." 



It is pleasant to turn from such scenes of blood and 

 maybe death, to less painful associations connected with 

 our little leathern-winged haunters of the summer twi- 

 light hours. For there are, for me at least, flittermouse 

 associations which are wholly pleasant. In this connec- 

 tion they suggest delightful evening strolls across scented 

 fields, when the latest songsters make the summer air 

 thrill with their joyous melody, and the soft-winged night- 

 jar chur-r-r-r-r-rs his strange note from yonder lean pine. 

 In this connection again they call to mind the return from 

 some pleasant picnic when the boat drops slowly down the 

 long reaches of the silver Thames, and the. silence is only 

 broken by the ripple of the wavelets on the stem, the dis- 

 tant plash of oars, or the plop of some sleek water-rat 

 diving from the bank. Or yet again they recall my pretty 

 cottage at the Cape, with its cool verandah clad with con- 

 volvulous and honeysuckle, the blossomed pear-trees and the 

 bright plumbago-hedge, and, above, the stern buttresses of 

 Table Mountain fading through the rapid twilight into the 

 star-bespangled night. I thank thee, gentle flittermouse, 

 for these so pleasant memories. 



Have you ever caught and examined a flittermouse ? In 

 doing so, I warn you, beware of his teeth. He may not 

 suck the life-blood from you ; but he may give you an 



