CHAPTER X 



THE HEDGEHOG 



The hedgehog is a shy little creature, living a 

 quiet retired life, and only coming out at dusk 

 when all the noisy creatures of the day have 

 gone home to bed. When the dusk is falling, 

 when the bats begin to flit to and fro, and the 

 dor-beetle blunders noisily through the twilight, 

 a stir and faint rustle in the grass will tell that 

 the hedgehog is abroad, nosing here and there 

 among the dew-soaked herbage for slugs and 

 night-roaming insects. No wonder it only goes 

 hunting by night, for it has no means of 

 defending itself save its covering of prickly 

 spines. These are its armour and defence. 

 When danger threatens, all it can do is to roll 

 itself up into a ball, and hope for the best. 

 It cannot run quickly enough to get away, 

 and its teeth are not strong enough to do much 

 harm to a foe, therefore, whenever it hears any 

 sound, it does not wait to see what is the 

 matter, but straightway makes itself into a ball. 

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