The Squirrels and other animals / Or, Illustrations of the habits and instincts of many of the smaller British quadrupeds

by George Waring

"Don't push and squeeze so Tiney! you take up more room than three or four of us."

"What a story! It is you Softsides, that want to have half the nest for yourself."

"Yes," squeaked sister Sleek, "and he has almost scratched my poor eye out,—the cross creature! only because I asked him to let me suck when he had had enough, and he knew how dreadfully thirsty I was."

"Be quiet children, will you?" said mamma; "and let me go to sleep. You forget what a terrible headache I have, and how tired I am with running away from that frightful weasel that chased me almost to death this morning. I should like to know what you would have done if he had caught me! Now mind! if I hear any more quarrelling, as surely as a grain of wheat has a husk, I will kick some of you out of the nest, and let the weasel or the owl make a meal of you."

This little specimen of a family quarrel, which took place when my brothers and sisters and myself were a few days old, and were not so large as hazel-nuts, is the earliest circumstance of my life of which I have any recollection. At this time we were eight in number, and though all of the same age, I was much the smallest and weakest of the brood, for which reason I suppose they called me "Mini-mus," or "the little mouse." My brothers and sisters despised me so for my poor health, and were so cross and tyrannical, that I verily believe I should have perished in infancy if my mother had not taken pity on me, and allowed me to suck sometimes out of my turn. The truth is, I was rather a favourite with my dear mamma; why, I cannot imagine, for I was a miserable looking little object, and was often very cross and rude to her. But since I have seen more of the world, I find that mothers of your species, my dear mistress, often show the strongest attachment to those children who are the most worthless in mind and body, and the least deserving of their affection.

Well! thanks to my dear mother's care, I got through my infancy pretty well, though I am still much smaller than the rest of my family. But if you could have seen my poor brother Softsides! oh, he was a noble animal! Will you believe it? he was nearly twice my size, and such a runner and leaper! He made nothing of jumping up to our nest at one bound, without taking the trouble to climb up in the usual way. But I must leave Softsides for the present, and tell you what sort of a house our careful mother had provided for us.

It was built on the top of a thistle at a little distance from the ground, and was nicely sheltered from the wind and rain by a high close hedge. It was as round as a ball, and was made entirely of the blades of grass and small straws, carefully woven together like basket-work, while the inside was as smooth and warm as possible; for there was only one very small opening, and even that was closed at night, and in the daytime when the weather was cold. A most delightfully warm, snug house it was, I assure you; but as we increased in size, it became rather too small for us, and, as I have already mentioned, we sometimes squabbled a little for want of room. Indeed I once heard mamma saying to herself, when she thought we were all asleep, "Well, if I had known that I should have had such a large family I would have built a bigger house." Now you must know that she was only one year old herself, and we were her first brood of young ones. But though this was the first nest she had ever made, she had shown great judgment in choosing a situation, which was not, as is usually the case with our tribe, in a corn-field, where both the nests and the inhabitants are often destroyed by the reapers. Fearful of this dreadful disaster, our mother had built her nest on a grassy bank, in an unfrequented meadow, in which there was no public path, and where a few quiet sheep were our only companions. The field adjoining ours was a wheat-field, and so we had an abundant supply of food on the other side of the hedge.

For the first week or two we never left the nest; but mamma soon began to feed us with seeds, and when our teeth were too weak to nibble hard grains, she brought us the soft, unripe wheat, which was delicious juicy food for tender infants.

Never shall I forget the terrible fright I was in the first time I ventured to leave the nest, and clamber down the thistle-stalk to the ground! My brothers and sisters had been down the day before, and laughed at my timidity; and then they boasted that they had scrambled up the bank, and looked through the hedge, into the wheat-field, where they had seen the reapers at work; and they told me that they had been terribly frightened by the barking of a large dog. But Softsides said that he was not frightened a bit, and that he only came back to the nest because he wanted his dinner; and he declared that he would fight the dog the next time he saw him.

Then they told me that they had seen a little girl in the wheat-field, gathering flowers, and that they had heard her sing most divinely—something about "Trip with me," and "the moon shining bright." And Softy said that he had learned part of the song, and that if we would give over prating so, and would listen to him, he would sing it as sweetly as the little girl did. So he sat up on his hinder parts, and began, "Trip with me, trip with me," but he made such a funny whistling noise through his long front teeth, that we all laughed till we cried. Then brother Softsides was angry, and bit my ear till I cried most bitterly, without laughing at all.