THE WEASEL. 



303 



and as wrens, and robins, and hedge-sparrows hop 

 from spray to spray on the lowly bush, just a few 

 inches from the ground, it seizes them there, but 

 does not begin to eat them until it has conveyed 

 them to its place of retreat. 



I once saw a weasel run up an ash tree, and enter 

 into a hole about ten feet from the ground. A 

 poor starling had made her nest in it ; and as she 

 stood wailing on the branch close by, the invader 

 came out with a half-fledged young one in his 

 mouth, and carried it off. 



The weasel is fond of old dry walls, and of banks 

 along hedgerows ; and it frequents small holes in 

 grass-fields remote from cover. I have known it 

 to make its nest in a corn-stack ; and, on that occa- 

 sion, I counted five young ones in it. Five seem 

 to be the general number ; and you may see them, 

 during the summer months, running at the edge of 

 cornfields, with two old ones in their company. 



From what has been said in this paper, the 

 reader may judge for himself, and determine whe- 

 ther he will make war on the weasel, or allow it to 

 remain in peace around him. For my own part 

 (as I have already observed), I offer it protection 

 here; and I am prepared for the loss of a few 

 hares, with the addition of a pheasant's nest or two, 

 when I reflect that it is never-ceasing in its pursuit 

 of the field-mouse, and that in it may be found 

 the most efficacious barrier that we can oppose to 

 the encroachments and increase of that insatiate and 

 destructive animal — the stranger rat from Hanover. 



