MY BAT. 



When I discovered the bat he was 

 hanging by his hind feet, head down- 

 ward between the bhnd and the window. 

 I could not see him breathe and thought 

 he must be dead, but he was only sleep- 

 ing. 



We closed the shutters of the blind as 

 softly as we could, but it awoke him, and 

 he began to wiggle and twist. He could 

 not get away and we lowered the win- 

 dow from the top and grabbed the little 

 fellow. 



How he did scold and snap his jaws 

 together ! His little teeth were sharp 

 and he tried his best to bite us. 



We put him in a box and put a piece 

 of coarse wire netting over the top. 



Mr. Bat did not enjoy being made a 

 prisoner, and did not quiet down until 

 he found he could hang head downward 

 from the netting. 



He was quite a pretty little animal, 

 his body being about two inches long, 

 with soft, thick, reddish brown fur on 

 its upper and under part and on his 

 head. His eyes were small and dark, 

 and his head looked like a tiny bear's, 

 but there was no hair on his ears. 



His wings also were without hair and 

 nearly black in color. When hanging by 

 his hind legs he kept his wings folded 

 tightly against his body. 



The bat's hind feet were very small, 

 having five tiny toes with the smallest 

 possible nails. By having one toe around 

 the wire of the netting he could hold 

 himself suspended in the air. 



The little fellow's mode of walking 

 on the bottom of the box was very awk- 

 ward. He would thrust forth the claw 

 at the end of one of his wings and hook 

 it into the box, then advance the hind 

 foot and tumble forward, repeating the 

 process with the opposite side, thus tum- 

 bling and staggering along, falling first 

 to one side, then to the other. 



If he wanted to hang from the net- 

 ting he would reach up a hind foot and 

 gain a foothold in the side of the box, 

 then raise the other, thus climbing back- 

 wards until he could clasp the netting. 



In the evening the bat got out of the 

 box and was flying about the room be- 

 fore we knew he had escaped. He flew 

 round and round in a circle, sometimes 

 striking the walls of the room. His 

 wings made considerable noise and he 

 looked many times larger when flying. 



We thought we should have to shut 

 him up in the room until morning, but 

 at last succeeded in catching him by hit- 

 ting and knocking him to the floor with 

 a coat, then throwing it over him. 



The little fellow struggled and tried 

 his best to get away, but it was no use. 

 We put him back into the box and put a 

 weight on the netting. He scratched 

 around in the box and scolded all the 

 evening, but he did not get away again. 

 The next morning I thought he would 

 be hungry and tried to get him to eat 

 and drink. He lapped a little water and 

 a little milk out of a teaspoon, running 

 out his tiny red tongue and making a lit- 

 tle hacking noise. 



He would not be tempted to eat a fly, 

 shaking his head and spitting the flies 

 out as fast as I could put them into his 

 mouth. 



As he would not eat we thought the 

 little fellow would starve if I did not let 

 him go. I waited until evening and took 

 the box outdoors. He was hanging to 

 the netting, and I took it off and turned 

 it over so he could fly. He spread out 

 his wings and away he went, glad to be 

 at liberty once more. 



I have looked every morning to see if 

 the bat is hanging against the window, 

 but have not seen him since I set him 

 free. Martha R. Fitch. 



181 



