36 IN BERKSHIRE FIELDS 



It was curious to watch his instinct to hide things 

 manifest itself in a hundred odd ways, to the hu- 

 man mind not in the least related to a food-sup- 

 ply. Any small object which was bright and shin- 

 ing particularly attracted him, and he would spend 

 hours attempting to hide bits of broken crockery or 

 glass in the dog's fur or in his ear. Don's ear was 

 a favorite hiding-place. Jim would get a bit of 

 crockery in his beak, hop upon the dog's head, drop 

 it neatly into his ear, and then carefully fold the 

 ear-flap down over the aperture. If Don objected 

 and raised his ear again, Jim would once more grab 

 it and fold it down, scolding meanwhile. If Don 

 were wide awake he did not seem to mind this per- 

 formance in the least, but if he chanced to be sleepy 

 he would get up with a bored air, shake out the 

 crockery from his ear, and with the look of one who 

 says, "For Heaven's sake, why can't they leave me 

 in peace!" walk away to some other place. Noth- 

 ing discouraged, Jim would slowly follow along be- 

 hind him, keeping an eye cocked meanwhile for a 

 fresh bit of shiny stuff (even a bright pebble would 

 do), and, when Don once more lay down, the entire 

 operation would be repeated. 



One could never be certain at these times how far 

 Jim's actions were purely teleological the exercise 

 in captivity of instincts upon which the endurance 

 of the wild species depends and how far there was 

 mingled with them an almost human love of teasing. 

 For Jim unquestionably loved to tease. Of that 

 there could be no doubt. He knew, too, just as a 

 dog knows, who could be teased and who couldn't. 

 There were two lambs on the place, one a stolid 



