[To VIM EDITOR OF TRY "SPECTATOR."]
Sin,—I have been very much interested in a most charming article in the Spectator of November 28th on squirrels, and as I have had a tame one for four years, I think it may interest your readers to hear a few more details about them. May I begin by saying that, as far as my experience goes, it is quite -different to the "country yokel's," and that they are peculiarly clean little beasts, and entirely free of any kind of -vermin P I do not think it is generally known what very fascinating little animals they are, nor how great is their intelligence and power of affection. I got mine four years ago ; he was then just old enough to crack his own nuts. He got very tame in a few days, but it took several months before he gave me his heart ; but once given, nothing could exceed his faithfulness. From the first I kept him free in my room, only putting him in a cage when the room was being -swept or when travelling. I take him wherever I go, either in a small cage or in my pocket; he is perfectly happy in the train, and has proved a good traveller, going backwards and forwards to Italy and England every year. Though so tame, I think they are by nature very timid. That curious chuckling noise described by the writer in the article is only a cry used by squirrels when anxious or alarmed, and so is that pretty attitude peculiar to them of crossing their little hands on their white waistcoats,—it is used when they are listening intently and not quite sure if danger is near. If a dog passes my door, my squirrel at once sits upright and very erect, with OM little hand on his heart or both crossed, and if the dog comes nearer, chuckles loudly and scampers up the nearest curtain for protection. His playfulness and mis- -chievotteness is a very marked feature of his character. He will get on one's knee and lie on his back and play with one's hand just like any kitten. He is such a merry little creature, and so happy and contented. He is very funny in the spring, when he always makes a nest, and he then loses all sense of honesty, and carries off anything he can get hold of to add to his nest. Not only soft shawls and handkerchiefs does he take, but I have known him carry off combs and heavy hairbrushes twice his size, and scissors, &c. ; in fact, if ever I lose anything now I climb up to his nest, which is generally on the top of the highebt object in the room, and I generally find tnylost article there. My first experience of his nest-making was rather peculiar. I had in a pigeon-hole in my writing-table a large packet of MSS., which had been the result of many hours' study. One day on entering my room I saw the squirrel's head peeping out of a nest of paper,—he had torn the MSS. into minute pieces and was snoozling down in the midst of it in great content- ment. But a squirrel's chief charm, to which I would iraw attention, is his power of love ; it is, I think, almost
equal to a dog's, but I do not know if he ever cares for more than one person. Mine is most coaxy and affectionate to me, but to no one else, and till lately I fear I must own he often bit others; but now he is getting older and calmer and has not bitten any one for a long time ; indeed he grows more gentle and loving and intelligent every day. He has always allowed me to do whatever I liked with him, and has never shown the faintest trace of ill-temper or displeasure. He generally sleeps under my pillow, and in summer, when he wakes very early, he never goes off to play or eat till he has first wakened me up and kissed me and got a little petting, and then he gallops off to his food, sometimes bring- ing it back with him to eat beside me. I have lost him several times,—three times he came back to me of his own will, but once he got out on a large common near Aldershot, and I fancy got frightened and lost his way, for I did not get him back for three days, when at last he was found in a stable asleep in a groom's jacket-pocket. He was worn out, and so thin and weak, and from that day he has never gone out of doors without fear, and has never wandered from me since.
And now, in conclusion, I should like to say that, great as is the pleasure my squirrel is to me, I would, nevertheless, strongly advise any one I knew who felt inclined to get one, not to do so; for I must confess that squirrels have one very serious drawback, which is, that they have no respect for books or furniture or any work of art, but bite and pull to pieces without mercy; and, also, I am sure such keen-spirited, active little beasts could not possibly be happy if kept caged. —I am, Sir, &c.,
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