THE SQUIRREL. 



I wish we knew more than we do of the car- 

 nivorous propensities, or the want of them, in 

 certain animals. We might then be able to 

 account tolerably well for many strange occur- 

 rences, which every now and then puzzle us so 

 much, in the workings of zoological gastronomy. 

 So unaccountable, indeed, are sometimes the 

 actions both of man and beast, not only in the 

 eating department, but also in domestic arrange- 

 ments, that we might really fancy the performers 

 not to be quite right in their heads. 



Whilst I am actually writing this, there are 

 two geese on the lawn before me. One of 

 them is a Canada goose, the other a barnacle 

 gander. The latter is about half the size of 

 the former. Notwithstanding this disparity, 

 the old fool of a goose has taken the insignificant 

 little fellow into connubial favour, although 

 there are four and twenty others of the Canada 

 species here, from which she has it fully in her 

 power to make a more profitable choice. Sin- 

 gular to tell, this is the third year that these 

 4 infatuated simpletons have paired, and the goose 

 laid eggs, without any chance of a progeny. 

 And, in high quarters, sometimes unions take 

 place, where the husband is ignorant of the 



