Part 114 (1/2)

A few small animals, the squirrel, field mouse, and dormouse, are store-keepers by nature. The larder is placed at a convenient distance from the nest in which these little animals sleep, and if forgotten, or accidentally left unused, the nuts, seeds, &c., often taken root and grow. Many a spreading chestnut, st.u.r.dy oak, and shady beech, to say nothing of hazel copse, owes life to these thrifty little folk, and thus the tiny woodlanders give back to nature a thousandfold more than they take. More than a bushel of raw potatoes was once found laid up by a water-rat in his winter cupboard, underground.

It is not every squirrel, however, that lays up a winter store. It seems that if that prudent little animal sees his way to a fair supply of food, or lives where human beings will provide victuals, he takes no such trouble. He is, at any rate, a good judge of nuts. A gardener who liked ripe filberts, and was looking forward to a fine crop in his plantation, found out that a squirrel in the neighbourhood liked them too, and knew how to 'sample' them better than himself. One day the master of the filbert-trees came to his wife with a happy air. 'I have done the squirrel this time, at all events,' said he; 'for I found a heap of filberts he had put together, all ready to carry off, little by little, and now when he returns he will find them gone.' Not a bit of it! Every nut was a bad one, which the knowing little rascal had tossed away in disgust, while he picked out all the good ones to eat or take home!

EDITH CARRINGTON.

A SHORT CONVERSATION.

The celebrated physician, Dr. Abernethy, was famous for the brevity and bluntness of his answers; he never used a word more than was necessary.

One day a lady who knew his peculiarity came to him and held out her finger without a word.

'Cut?' asked the doctor.

'Bite,' answered the patient.

'Dog?'

'Parrot.'

'Go home and poultice,' said Abernethy.

The next day the finger was again shown.

'Better?' was the doctor's question.

'Worse.'

'Poultice again.'

Lastly, when the finger was at length cured, the doctor even went so far as to compliment his patient.

'Better?' he asked.

'Quite well.'

'Good. You are the most sensible woman I ever met. Good-day.'

WHAT INSECTS LOVE.

'I love,' said a Beetle, 'The b.u.t.tercups all.'

'And I,' quoth a Fly, 'Like the Daisies small.'

But a Humble Bee Said, 'As for me, My love is true To the Cornflowers blue, And Violets hid by a moss-grown wall.'

'All flowers I adore,'