106 MY NATURE NOTEBOOK. 



THE DEER'S SHOWER-BATH. 



Like the trees, the deer in the parks and even the 

 sparrows in the streets of cities look all the better 

 for the thorough washing which they get when the 

 rain drives down so heavily as to convert the densest 

 tree-shelters into shower-baths. Luckily most crea- 

 tures have a love of cold water ; and during the 

 heaviest of the summer's showers the dripping spar- 

 rows on the water-pipes chirped cheerfully to each 

 other between thunderclaps ; while as many of the 

 deer lay out in the open as took shelter under the 

 trees, soaking in the welcome rain after hours of 

 stifling heat The deer objects only to the raindrops 

 tickling the hairs that line its ears ; so it folds these 

 back, giving itself a deceptive aspect of misery so 

 long as the rain lasts. But the brightness of its 

 coat when the sun has dried it again, and the exceed- 

 ing friskiness of the fawns as they play prisoner's 

 base and follow my leader backwards and forwards 

 and all round their mothers, show that the rain has 

 done them good ; and you may take it as a safe rule 

 of Nature that the unsophisticated tastes of creatures 

 living under natural conditions approve whatever is 

 good for them. 



WHY MAN SHIRKS ABLUTIONS. 



Only human beings, as a rule, indulge in "ac- 

 quired tastes," with illnesses to follow, or shirk 

 healthy ablutions. But men who do not bathe are 

 only obeying a natural instinct too. Man has ac- 

 quired the power of living in climates which are 



