THE HOUSE, 



gardens and making free ■witli the ripe fruit — especially wall- 

 fruit, amongst wMoli its prime favourite is the peach. Except 

 that it is somewhat smaller, it much resembles the fat dormouse, 

 but it is not eatable. It makes its nest, like the rest of this 

 genus, in the hollows of trees, or in the crevices of garden-walls. 

 Its total length is about eight inches, and of this the tail occu- 

 pies about an inch and a half. Its general colour is grey, 

 deeply tinged with red upon the back, and becoming white 

 upon the abdomen. The eyes are set in a black patch, which 

 extends to some distance beyond each ear. Its tail is rather 

 wide towards the end and sharp at the extremity ; it is covered 

 with short black hair, changing abruptly to white at the tip. 

 It is common throughout the temperate parts of Europe and 

 Asia. 



Although not exactly of the genus nw,s, it would be a pity 

 to exclude from these pages a short notice of that interesting 

 little creature the shrew mouse. During the autumn months 

 a walk along a country road will almost certainly discover one 

 or two shrew mice dead and cold, and without any wound or 

 other evidence to tell the reason why. As has been remarked 

 by Mr. Wood, the presence of these deceased creatures is the 

 more remarkable, because there are so many predatory animals 

 and birds, such as cats, weasels, stoats, owls, and hawks, which 

 would be very likely to kill such small prey, but having slain 

 them would be almost sure to eat them. 



To account for this phenomenon it has been suggested that 

 the shrew, like the mole, is very impatient of hunger, and that 

 when the approach of winter drives the worms deep into the 

 earth, and the insects to their winter hiding-places, the unlucky 

 shrew-mouse goes about poking its sharp snout here and there 

 in search of a morsel, and not finding it falls down faint and 

 exhausted, and dies where it is found. 



Scarcely the raven himself was more hated and feared in the 

 " good old times " than the innocent little shrew. Did a shrew 

 run over a ploughman's boot, as he plodded through a field, 

 the poor wretch instantly fancied himself " shrew-struck," and 

 ran home in a fright to impart the doleful news to his horror- 

 stricken family ; if a horse died in a meadow, and its master 

 discovered a shrew in the neighbourhood, he straightway cursed 

 the whole shrew tribe, and troubled himself no farther as to 

 the cause of his nag's demise ; if, while siaging on her stool, a 

 little shrew-mouse rustled the petticoat of the milkmaid, her 

 cheeks grew white as the rich milk in the pail, and, lest soma 



