A DEAD SQUIRREL 113 



place, where there was running water and very large 

 trees standing wide apart, with a lawn-like green turf 

 beneath them. This green space was about half an 

 acre in extent, and was surrounded by a thicker wood 

 of oak and holly, with an undergrowth of brambles. 

 Here I found a dead squirrel lying on the turf under 

 one of the biggest oaks, looking exceedingly conspicuous 

 with the bright morning sun shining on him. 



A poor bag ! the reader may say, but it was the day 

 of small things at the end of July, and this dead 

 creature gave me something to think about. How in 

 the name of wonder came it to be dead at that peace- 

 ful place, where no gun was fired ! I could not believe 

 that he had died, for never had I seen a finer, glossier- 

 coated, better - nourished - looking squirrel. "Whiter 

 than pearls are his teeth," were Christ's words in the 

 legend when His followers looked with disgust and 

 abhorrence at a dead dog lying in the public way. 

 This dead animal had more than pearly teeth to 

 admire ; he was actually beautiful to the sight, lying 

 graceful in death on the moist green sward in his rich 

 chestnut reds and flower-like whiteness. The wild, 

 bright-eyed, alert little creature it seemed a strange 

 and unheard of thing that he, of all the woodland 

 people, should be lying there, motionless, not stiffened 

 yet and scarcely cold. 



A keeper in Hampshire told me that he once saw a 

 squirrel accidentally kill itself in a curious way. The 

 keeper was walking on a hard road, and noticed the 



