varieties, is of a dark-tan colour, with its sides striped with white and brown, its belly sky-blue, encircled with a white stripe. It is altogether a most beautiful animal, and remarkable for being, with the Palm Squirrel of India, one of the connecting links between the climbing squirrels and the burrowers-that is, it both climbs and burrows.

The Brazilian squirrel is a splendid creature, and like the birds, butterflies, and beetles of that equatorial region, it is decked, in comparison with our own homely "brownie," in a blaze of colour. Its head and body are striped and dotted with white, black, brown, and orange; its belly is of a bright yellow, encircled with a white streak; its tail is of black, yellow, and orange; its ears, wanting the tufts of hair which characterise the true climbing species, proclaim that its habitation is not in the tree-tops, but in the earth. It is one of the most beautiful of the burrowers.

The ground-squirrels, or burrowers-of which there are at present only six species known-belong to the genus Tamias. The head is narrow and more pointed than that of the ordinary squirrel, the fur shorter, and the tail less bushy; and they have cheek-pouches, which true squirrels have not. Altogether, they appear to belong more to the rat species, and like rats are ever active and restless. The Chipping or Chipmuck squirrel is one of this species, and is in America the especial annoyance of the hunter; for these little creatures, making a noise like young chickens, announce his approach and scare away the game. This Chipmuck is a pretty little animal, of a brownish-grey colour, with five stripes of black and two of pale-yellow drawn along the back; but these tints change with the seasons, always excepting the colour of the throat, which is snowy white. It burrows at the bottom of an old tree, the burrow descending almost perpendicularly for three feet; then branching off, it makes some sinuous

windings in an opposite and upward direction, from whence supplementary roads are made into the principal entrance. The great enemies of the burrowers are weasels and stoats. A weasel has been known to destroy a whole family, both little ones and the mother, who, battling for her offspring, and refusing to escape, perished with them.

The flying-squirrel partakes of the nature of the dormouse and the bat, and seems to be the link between them. Of this peculiar species there are eight different kinds, more or less bat-like in the arrangement of the integument, which enables them to take such marvellous springs, analogous to flying, and from which they have obtained the name of flying squirrel. They will dart from a high tree to a lower one, at upwards of fifty yards distance; they never run up and down the branches, but spring from bough to bough. The length of the little body is not more than four inches, while that of the tail is about five. The upper part of the body is of a pale-grey, and the lower part white; the tail is well covered with hair, and rounded at the tip. They build their nests in the same way as do English squirrels, and feed in much the same manner; but they have one peculiarity-they sleep through the day, and never venture out at night if the weather is bad. Thus they are not often met with either in Europe or America. The female is a most fond and devoted parent, never leaving the nest in pursuit of food without folding over her little ones the soft moss with which the nest is lined, and always brooding and nestling over them till they are able to leave the nest.

A few words should be said about the excessive cruelty which squirrels are made to endure, by being placed in a revolving cage-a miniature treadmill. "It may be sport to you, my masters, but it is death to us." Considerably more amusement can be obtained from the pretty gambols of these creatures, if two (a male and a

female) be placed in a square wire-cage-like a birdcage, but considerably larger-and the possessors would be certain that no torture to these winsome little animals was mingled with their own gratification. The whirling maze of wood and wire can resemble nothing that these creatures have been accustomed to, and, to the monotony which must exist with such a mode of exercise, health must speedily succumb.

A correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine of 1781 states from his own experience, that squirrels when in confinement will jump in exact time to music, and will continue to do so to the same tune for many minutes. He asserts that he kept in a cage two (a male and a female) who were given to this practice: the male jumped sideways, describing a portion of a circle; the female jumped in the same way, but describing a portion of a smaller circle concentric with the first: always keeping herself duly below the male, performing her leap precisely in the same time, and grounding her feet in the same moment with him; but he observes that only in confinement will squirrels do this.

The same correspondent mentions that he had then a squirrel seven years old "a fellow of infinite jest and fancy" who was put, when younger, in the same cage with one who was venerable, corpulent, and unwieldy. They agreed very well together, but the young one was continually diverting himself, at the old squirrel's expense, with all kinds of monkey-tricks. For instance, when both were let out of the cage on to the floor, the old one would with difficulty climb to the second rung of the chair. The young squirrel, when he saw him trying to mount higher, would invariably take him round the waist and pull him to the ground; and this would happen again and again, in sheer fun and frolic, with a look and manner of inexpressible archness and drollery. The old squirrel was never seriously angry; he never fought or scolded, but gently murmured

at his audacious companion. One morning he was found dead in his cage, and after this, the young one would assault and bite his master without provocation. The writer goes on to say:"To break him of this habit, I pursued him for some minutes about the room, scolding him, and threatening him with my handkerchief. I continued to let him out of his cage daily, but punished him by taking no notice of him for some months. The coolness was mutual; he neither fled from me, nor attempted to come near me. At length I called him to me. It appeared that he waited only for the first advances, as he immediately threw off his gravity, and ran up to my shoulder; our reconciliation was cordial and lasting; he never bit me afterwards. He is frequently suffered to climb up a very high ash-tree, but always returns to his cage-one proof, among many others, that squirrels are as tameable as other domestic animals, and quite as diverting."-Treasury of Literature.

CHAPTER XXI.

SARDINES AND ANCHOVIES.

THE Sardine is the commercial name of the pilcharda name which it derives from the island of Sardinia, around whose shores it is taken in great abundance. This little delicate fish has long been a favourite, even in times before the present mode of preserving it came into vogue. It is mentioned by the ancient mythologists as forming one of the many dishes which graced the wedding-breakfast of Hebe. It is an elegant fish, and has a slender graceful body, generally three or four inches long. When in the sea the colour of its back is a bright greenish-blue; but when life has gone, the freshness of its colour fades. The lower part of its body is a silvery white, and as it darts through the clear blue water in the sunlight, it forms a pretty object; its

graceful motions, its clear colours, its glittering sides— covered as if with nacre-all combining to give it a place among the beauties of the Sea-World.

Pilchards are found not only in the Mediterranean, but also in the North Atlantic Ocean and the Baltic Sea. Like the herring, they traverse the seas in huge columns; but whence they come, or whither they go, no one can tell. They inhabit the deep seas, approaching the shores at the spawning season; yet, like the herring, the pilchard is to be found at every period of the year. On the coast of Cornwall pilchard-fishing is one of the staple industries of the inhabitants. The people along the whole line of coast are in a state of the utmost excitement from the appearance of the first shoal, which generally finds its way to the shore about the beginning of October; its arrival is announced in the Cornish villages by a man employed as a look-out, or "huer"; he is posted on a cliff, whence he commands an extensive sea-view.

A shoal of pilchards in the distance appears like the shadow of a cloud upon the sea; as it approaches the shore, thousands of fish may be seen jumping from the water, and spangling the surface with tiny reflections from their silvery sides. At a signal from the huer, the village boat is manned and put out into the bay, carrying the great net (the "seine "), which is five or six hundred yards long, and about twelve fathoms deep. This net has a very small mesh, and costs some £120. The "shooters' or "net-casters" who man the boat keep their eye upon the huer, who stands with a bush in his hand, by which he guides the boat. As soon as the shoal is well in the bay, he gives the signal, and the men begin to "pay-out" the net; the lower side is weighted with lead and rapidly sinks, while a line of cork-floats keeps the other edge on the surface of the water. Cautiously and silently the seine is cast outside the doomed shoal. Now all anxiety is at an end; the