Did you ever watch a squirrel open and eat the contents of a nut? It is very curious and interesting. The little fellow takes it daintily in his fore-paws, seats himself deliberately, and then carrying the nut to his mouth, clips off the tips with his sharp chisel-edged incisor teeth. He then rapidly breaks away the shell, and after peeling the husk from the kernel, eats it complacently, all the while furtively glancing about him, ever in readiness to vanish from his post at any suspicious disturbance. The food of the Squirrel is not vegetable substances. Young birds, eggs, and various insects constitute a part of his food. He has the destructive habit of nibbling green and tender shoots that sprout upon the topmost boughs, thus stunting the growth of many a promising tree. He visits the farmers' corn-cribs, too, and thus renders himself somewhat obnoxious. All in all, however, he has his uses, and should not be wholly exterminated. Tender and juicy, he has always paid for his apparent despoliation, and his destruction of much injurious insect life rather favors his protection.
The Squirrel is a variable animal in point of color, the tint of its fur changing with the country it inhabits. It is easily tamed, and is a favorite domestic pet. It is said, however, that one should beware of purchasing so-called tame Squirrels, as they are often drugged with strychnine, under whose influence they will permit themselves to be handled. In some cases the incisor teeth are drawn, to prevent them from biting. It is sad that such cruel tricks of the vendors exist and cannot be prevented.
It is related that about 1840, during a season of great scarcity of mast, vast multitudes of Squirrels migrated from the eastern states to Canada, where food conditions were more favorable. They crossed the country in armies, swam rivers with their tails curled over their backs, sailing before the wind. It was a curious instance of rare instinct and self-preservation.
SECRETS OF AN OLD GARDEN.
THIS garden had some small fruit trees thickly covered with leaves, and a tangle of currant bushes and raspberry vines, as well as neatly worked rows of vegetables. There was also a thick clump of tall, feathery grass beside the paling.
It was well it had these small places of refuge, for it had many perils. Two cats, a white and a gray, patrolled the garden with silent and velvety tread; boys, who were not silent, used all kinds of small but deadly weapons on the street that ran beside it, and great heavy wagons rumbled up and down all day, making a great noise and dust.
But how many birds I have seen and heard there! Red-headed Woodpeckers tapped and called early in the morning on the tall telegraph pole at the corner, and flocks of Grackles, the Bronze, the Purple, and the Rusty Grackles, were fed from the fresh-turned earth. A Catbird hopped lightly in the shadow of the tool-house, and I suspect some Robins of foraging turn with their young families. Sparrows of all kinds dwelt there—flocks of yellow Ground Sparrows, Brown and Gray Sparrows, Clipping Sparrows. I saw one day the funniest Clipping baby with his chestnut cap pushed up into a regular crown almost too big for his tiny head, and the brightest black eyes peering at me, as he stood on a clod of earth. Flocks, also, of Goldfinches, glittering like small balls of gold, and Indigo Buntings, blue as the sky, held merry-makings there, and oh, the songs from morning until night! A Warbling Vireo sang so loud and so splendidly that we thought he must be some big bird of scarlet plumage instead of the wee wood-sprite he was; and little Wrens and little Indigo Birds fairly bubbled over with songs of joy.