British Wild Beasts. 201 



In Jean Ingelow there is a pleasant reference to the 

 " water-mouse " among the reeds — 



" His bright eyes glancing black as beads, 

 So happy with a bunch of seeds," 



and several poets refer kindly to the " drowsy," " wondering,'' 

 "sleepy" dormouse. In Red Indian fairy tales the dor- 

 mouse, the " bUnd woman," is a thing of some consequence. 

 Once upon a time, a dwarf, annoyed by the sun, persuaded 

 his sister to make a net out of her hair, and going out to 

 the edge of the prairie next morning, he caught the sun 

 just as it was rising, and pinned it down inside the net to the 

 ground. Prodigious was the consternation in Nature when 

 the sun did not rise, and long and serious the pow-wow of 

 the blasts. But at last the venerable dormouse (at that 

 time the largest of all animals and the Ulysses among them) 

 guessed what was the matter, and going to the edge of the 

 prairie released the luminary. But in doing so it was 

 shrivelled up to its present size. 



As regards its forethought for the winter, the dormouse 

 is even more interesting than the squirrel. For not only 

 does it, like the squirrel, lay up its little hampers for 

 occasional picnics in the snatches of fine weather, but it 

 takes care, before turning into its cosy little moss-ball for 

 the winter, to fatten itself up to an extraordinary obesity. 

 So fat, indeed, does it become, that without any food at 

 all laid by, it could sleep out a whole winter comfortably. 

 But the delightful little Sybarite is not going to run any 

 risks, so, like the juryman in Punch, it first of al eats 

 itself into invincible fatness, and fills its pockets besides 

 with condensed foods. 



It was this capacity for fattening that endeared the 

 dormice to Roman epicures. Their "gliralia" or "dor- 

 mouse parks " were most extensive and costly erections, 

 planted with oaks and nut-trees for the sustenance of these 



