Stray Leaves from a Border Garden 
on the coach-wheel, thinking he did all the business. The 
Melon scent of the crushed branches quite filled the air. 
It is so nice to burn in winter, it gives forth such a 
delicious smell, but it is rather addicted to “ sparking,” 
which is a bore. One of the men came across a tiny Hedge- 
pig in the path close by, and asked what he should do with 
it. “ Kill it,” cried the Gamekeeper in a bloodthirsty 
manner. But Boy and I protested, and saved the poor 
little tramp. I gathered him up in my leather-gloved 
hand. Even so small, his coat was somewhat prickly, like 
a little Chestnut-burr, and after persistently wetting the tip 
of his nose with milk, induced him to drink some out of a 
saucer on the ground. I kept him a little while in my lap, 
stroking his face and underside, and he partially uncurled 
himself, as if he liked the attention. White of Selborne 
says they cannot curl themselves up when very small. The 
appearance presented by a wee bit Urchin on his back is 
most comical. He looks like a tiny little old, old Manikin 
wrapped in a fur cloak, like a picture of an Eskimo elder. 
The Gamekeeper was indignant at my taking notice of him. 
“ Wad ye gie milk to Jock Bell (naming a noted poacher), 
gin he cam’ to yer ha’ door, mem ? ” “ Yes,” I said, “ pro- 
bably, if he was as attractive looking as this little varmint.” 
Whether true or not, the Hedgehog has a very bad cha- 
racter as regards Pheasants’ eggs, &c., in the eyes of Game- 
keepers, and he meets with small mercy at the hands of 
Gipsies. It is said they bake them in earth-ovens till 
their spiny coats come off in the clay they are rolled in, and 
reckon them great tit-bits. 
July 15. — St. Swithin’s Day. If it is fine to-day, we 
shall have fine weather for a long time ; but if it rains, it 
will rain for forty days without stopping — a dark outlook. 
I saw some lovely Hansoni Lilies, yellow, in bloom in a 
garden near here yesterday, and some most effective 
clumps of pale blue Larkspur Bella Donna. There was 
a lovely white Campanula, shot with lilac, coming out 
to-day in the kitchen-garden, in the border which is just 
“ throng,” as Gardener says, with rival beauties elbowing 
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