A TRIBE OF GNAWERS AND THEIR FOOD 71 



ing recipes. One live animal is more interesting to 

 us, and of more real value to humanity than a 

 carload of dead ones. We have abundance of do- 

 mestic animals to supply us with meat, and it seems 

 outrageous that beautiful little creatures, like the 

 gray squirrels, for instance, should be killed to sup- 

 ply our table. I once owned 



A GRAY SQUIRREL NAMED CUDJO. 



It was during the war time, my room was in 

 the third story of a brick house, and, like the pack 

 rat, I filled my nest with all manner of useless 

 things. The walls were decorated with the junk 

 from the camps and at one end of the room hung 

 a pair of glazed leather boots. They were broad- 

 toed, after the fashion of the day, they had big 

 bulging calves to allow room for the baggy trousers 

 which were then in fashion, the boots were cut 

 away under the knees to allow free play of the 

 man's joints, in front they, extended up above and 

 protected the knee by rounded tips. 



They were in fact full dress officers' military 

 boots of the war of '61. One of these boots was 

 selected by Cudjo for his home and down in the 

 foot of it he slept during the night. 



He spent the days in romping around the room 

 or sitting in the window with one foot on the sash 

 and the other curled up under his body while he 

 watched, with evident interest, the boys at play, or 

 the passing of regiments of soldiers and the six- 

 mule team government wagons, but whenever a 



