A ROADSIDE NATURALIST. 13 



flesh freely, young chicks and ducklings are a temp- 

 tation not to be resisted. They will fetch, carry, and 

 hoard until not one will be left to the farmer's wife 

 unless the thieves are killed off. 



Rats and mice claim the hedgerows and the roads ; 

 they have their summer and their winter quarters. 

 In tramping along the highways, I have watched and 

 noted all the members of the family, from the com- 

 mon brown rat down to the black water-vole and the 

 two species of water-shrews. Squirrels also and dor- 

 mice on and about our country roads are plentiful 

 enough. Even the timid mole is a common object 

 there at times. He will leave his hillock -heaving, 

 and come running about in front of one in broad 

 daylight. Folks call him the blind mole ; but let 

 your fingers get near his snout, and then tell us what 

 you think of his blindness. A most ferocious little 

 fellow he is, and he fights with all the determination 

 of a bull-terrier. I have undergone a considerable 

 amount of biting in my roadside pursuit of natural 

 history. The bite of a wild rabbit is like being cut 

 with a chisel ; the bite of a squirrel, too, requires a 

 good deal of fortitude in bearing it patiently. No 

 one I have ever known bitten by a squirrel but 



