3 o DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



similar object, and catch them with that. I caught 

 nine, in that way, in one night. 



Sometimes I have turned down the bedclothes 

 and jumped into bed to alight upon a bunch of 

 cracked nut-shells, acorns and seeds. 



A recent writer in a popular out-doors magazine 

 says that the flying squirrels hibernate, but this 

 very winter, with the mercury at times fourteen 

 degrees below zero, the flying squirrels were lively 

 as crickets in my log house and their tracks could 

 be seen in the deep snow on the roof, where they 

 plumped down from a chestnut tree and then 

 scampered to the opening in the roof by the chim- 

 ney. A few years ago I saw a flying squirrel hop- 

 ping across our lawns in Flushing, during a driv- 

 ing sleet and snow storm and afterward found its 

 dead body in a hollow shade tree. 



One summer the mistress of Wild Lands took 

 on one of those spasmodic fits of cleaning peculiar 

 to her sex, and seizing a pair of canvas trousers 

 she and the maid began to give them a vigorous 

 shaking. The blood curdling screams which fol- 

 lowed brought every one within hearing to the 

 spot, and they saw mistress and maid facing each 

 other and doing a wild fantastic dance, accompan- 

 ied by a swinging of their arms and ear-piercing 

 shrieks. 



A dozen or so frightened little flying squirrels 

 were scrambling over the bodies and heads of the 

 dancers or sailing across the intervening space 

 from maid to madam and from madam to maid. 



