62 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FAEM. 



have some compensatory attribute, or their lives would 

 assuredly be miserable. Our own nasal organs are too 

 sadly appreciative of the disagreeables in life already, 

 we think. What then must the victims of these so 

 much subtler olfactory nerves think ? This same bow- 

 wow got a nip he didn't like last night. He is of an 

 inquisitive turn, and as he was following the bailiff's 

 wife home just before dark, he must needs go out of his 

 way to explore the cellars of a huge boulder that, rolled 

 down from the mountain behind, has come to anchor, 

 in ages gone by, upon the orchard slope. He is a 

 plucky fellow, and doesn't insist upon weight for age in 

 a street quarrel ; but this time he cried sadly. The 

 fact is, either a fox or a badger, both of which abound 

 about, must have caught him by the collar and shook 

 him well, for he had no wounds to show. 



Such a beautiful fox was brought to me last winter, 

 that had been caught under a rock upon the hill above 

 the house ! He was tracked over the snow to hi? 

 retreat ; a bag with a hoop in it was then put against 

 the opening, and a piece of lighted candle on a stick 

 introduced through a treacherous chink behind, which 

 so affrighted Master Reynard that he bolted into the 

 sack and his captor's arms. He had not been caught 

 many hours ; but it was amusing to note the old rob- 

 ber's resigned, or rather indifferent, way in which he 

 laid out his head on his paws, just turning an observant 

 eye only, if one moved. He struggled violently, and 

 hung back desperately when his chain was pulled. His 

 coat was so richly tinted — a lustrous red-brown — I 

 almost longed to keep him as a pet; but then pets 

 accumulate, and guineas don't, so I allowed his trans- 

 portation to a neighbouring hunt. 



