A Lost Ferret
Loss of a ferret has been a minor tragedy for H. He must buy another at a time when prices are high. I met him in the lane when he was going for the third or fourth time to try to recapture part of his means of livelihood. The ferret is one of the lemon-coloured variety. On a green field it is conspicuous, and H. has seen it several times since it first escaped. His chances of getting it back are small, for by now the little hunter has discovered that he is working on his own account. The wild has called, and life is sweet. H. fears that a keeper will see it, and make an end of it with his gun, or that someone with more time to devote to the business will dig it out after blocking the burrows. With all the luck in the world it cannot live to enjoy its freedom for long. Its colouring is its death warrant.
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