[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] Sm,—Having seen in your
columns certain comments-- generally; unfavourable—as to the grey squirrel of North." America, I take the liberty of writing a word or two in extenua- tion. Forty years ago he was a wild creature, whose appear- ance near a village was something of an event. In my boyhood' I remember seeing only one near my father's house. He climbed to the top of the tallest tree and there waited in terror till night, when he escaped to be seen no more. But. such sport as he made for the boys with rifle or shot-gun in, the hill pastures and wood lots amid the tall oak and hickory, trees ! Hard to see, dodging ever to the other side of the trunk, hiding in the one invisible spot until dislodged by a climber, and then often escaping by a long bold leap to the ground.
Now he is urbanized. He is a common sight on that same lawn, and I am watching the fate of my birds with apprehen- sion. Like man, he is not always improved by coming into, town. Yet he may still acquire new virtues. Only last week on Boston " Common " (now degenerated into a city park)) one caught an " English " sparrow, pierced his brain with a: single nip, took him up a tree, plucked and ate him. If we' could only train a few more for this sole purpose, we might. become more reconciled to the change of habits.
He has also another attribute, not yet fully appreciated in England. He makes excellent pie. Verbum sap.—I am,
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