Mammals Squirrels 
May 18, 1902—The baby squirrel is just large 
enough to cuddle in one hand. He cuddles all right 
when once he is captured; but he is a terrible fighter, 
and when I attempt to take him in one hand, he 
scratches and bites and growls so that I have been 
obliged to name him Fury. I told him, however, if 
he improved in temper I would change his name to 
Furry. 
May 19—Fury greets me when I open his box, with 
the most awe-inspiring little growls, which he evi- 
dently supposes will make me turn pale with fear. 
‘He has not cut his teeth yet, so he cannot bite very 
severely, but that isn’t his fault, for he tries hard 
enough. The Naturalist said cold milk would kill 
him, so I warmed the milk and put it in a teaspoon 
and placed it in front of his nose; he batted the 
spoon with both forepaws and tried tobite it, and thus 
got a taste of the milk, which he drank eagerly lapping 
it up like a kitten. When I hold him in one hand and 
cover him with the other, he turns contented little 
somersaults over and over. 
May 20—Fury bit me only once to-day, when I 
took him out to feed him. He is cutting his teeth on 
my devoted fingers. I tried giving him grape-nuts 
soaked in milk, but he spat it out in disgust. 
He always washes his face as soon as he is through 
eating. 
May 21—Fury lies curled under his blanket all 
day. Evidently good little squirrels stay quietly in 
the nest, when the mother is not at home to give them 
permission to run around. When Fury sleeps, he 
rolls himself up in a little ball with his tail wrapped 
closely around him. The squirrel’s tail is his ‘‘furs,”’ 
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