68 
NATURE NOTES 
so much green. The grass looked almost as fresh as it does in 
September, and the leaves of the holly, cedar, laurel, bramble, 
and the tall, hardy pine were still coated with a horny, defiant 
green, while the plentiful crops of moss on the trunks and limbs 
of the oak, ash, chestnut, and even the birch in patches, pre- 
sented greens of almost every shade — from a mouldy greyish- 
blue to a discontented, wavering yellow. Arrived at the wood, 
I stood near my favourite oaks and admired their perfect 
shape, their simple, serene dignity, their calm, massive strength. 
What magnificent skeletons these trees are in winter ! I 
tried to fancy how the skeleton of a squirrel would look on one 
of the naked branches, but soon gave up the attempt in disgust. 
The thought that before many months the little fellow will be 
here in all the joy of his bright, innocent life was far more 
welcome ; and I could wait. In a few minutes my eye wandered 
to a neighbouring fir tree. This tree had lost all its leaves, but 
the small branches and twigs were thickly covered with dry 
cones, of the size and shape of nutmegs. More than once I 
wondered what sort of a bird had built its nest so close to the 
end of one of the longest branches. On the way to the wood 
I had seen several old nests, but they were all tucked in crutches 
close to the trunks. Presently the nest seemed to rearrange 
itself. I could now clearly distinguish a small head surmounted 
by two tiny ears, perched like sentinels, faithful and alert, and 
then I quickly followed out the figure of my welcome little friend. 
He sat there perfectly still for several minutes, then he turned 
round suddenly, ran along the branch and up the trunk to another 
branch near the top of the tree. Here he settled down to his 
breakfast. I saw him dispose of three fir-cones and heard the 
rejected husks fall in the ferns underneath. I was rather anxious 
to secure one of these husks that I might see what part of the 
cone had been eaten, but I was unwilling to disturb this simple 
morning meal. Instead, I gathered several similar cones and 
brought them home for examination. The poor squirrels are 
evidently glad of any dry crust in the winter time. These cones 
are nothing but nobbles of perfectly dry wood covered with thin, 
horny scales. Sharp teeth and strong claws soon convert these 
hard grains into meal which, if not exactly fattening, serves at 
any rate to keep the pretty creatures alive till better food can 
be found. I have cut a few of these cones open. They are 
exceedingly pretty inside, but do not seem to contain much 
nourishment. However, there are millions of them on the trees, 
and our little pets have the whole day before them. We should 
be glad to nibble artichokes if we could get nothing else. 
Before leaving the wood I saw another squirrel on the ground 
making its way, with its tailed tucked up, to the next tree. 
On the following morning, Saturday, December 27, I was 
in the wood soon after eight, and saw four squirrels. This was 
a delightful morning, one of the finest of the whole year, there 
has not been one finer since July. With beautiful warm sunshine 
