From The Argosy. SOCIABILITY OF SQUIRRELS. My first acquaintance with this agreeable quality in the agile, graceful creatures, darting from bough to bough in our English woods, was made when I was staying at a beautiful country house in Devonshire. I used often to sit very quietly sketching under the fine old trees, and the squirrels would come to the end of an overhanging bough, and watch my proceedings with apparent interest.

As I do not understand their dialect, I cannot say what might be their opinion of my performances, but they chatted very merrily, seeming glad to welcome an intruder on their solitude.

For many years our own home was in the middle of a pine wood, and there a much more intimate friendship was formed with the squirrels. Our gardener found a young one caught in a net in the strawberry bed, and brought it to me. It was kept for some time in a squirrel-cage, where it seemed tolerably contented; but we were not happy about our small captive. Accidentally, or purposely, the door was left open, and we were glad when it regained its liberty.

A day or two afterwards, a young lady who was staying in the house told us that our squirrel had run up to her in the gravel walk; and next morning Charlie made his appearance at the dining-room window. His visits were repeated for several days. No attempt was made to capture him. He ran about the room as if in search of something; and at last jumped on a canary's cage which hung in the window.

I believe he is looking for his own old home," I said. And immediately upon my fetching it from the loft where it had been put away, Charlie ran in, and gave himself a swing on the roller, and ate the nuts we placed in the tray.

It is to be supposed that Charlie told his friends that we were lovers of animals, and might be trusted; for other squirrels frequently visited us, in the house and in the grounds. Those were the happy days for quiet country ladies of croquet-playing; and we

Some of our visitors they made acquaintance with immediately, others they always avoided. A little toy-terrier, with a bell attached to its collar, which the cunning little creature used to try to silence, that it might steal upon our favorites unheard, was their peculiar aversion; but our own pet Skye, St. Barbe, would let them climb over his back, and frolic about him without stirring an inch.

Mrs. Brightwen in her admirable volume, "Wild Nature tamed by Kindness,' ," is quite right in affirming that quietness is the great conciliator of animals. An abrupt gesture will at once startle and drive them away; but if you sit still they will gain confidence, and come nearer and nearer, till they learn to feed out of your hand, to nestle in the folds of your dress, and even to search in your pockets for nuts and crusts of bread which they know you often carry about with you.

One of my sisters, who was particularly gentle in voice and manner, and very fond of animals, exercised a peculiar charm over the squirrels. She often got up at five o'clock to feed them, when they pattered across the verandah to her window; and she always kept a store of food for them. A china jar of nuts stood on the mantelpiece, and she more than once remarked on its becoming mysteriously empty. At last it was discovered that the squirrels came into the room, lifted off the lid, and helped themselves without breaking the fragile ornament.

Once our maids could not get the dog to move from the root of a fir-tree, half way between Heathside and Parkstone, until he had coaxed down one of these kittens, which had been given

Charlie would remain quite still till the circle had gradually drawn closer; then, with a sudden spring, would jump high over their heads, and in another moment be chattering at them from the boughs of a magnificent ilex-tree, in which he and his friends greatly delighted.

That wide verandah supported by rough, unpainted pine trunks finally cost us the loss of our company of squirrels. The poles grew rotten, and had to be replaced. It was a very noisy, tedious operation, nearly overcoming our own patience, and quite tiring out that of our wild little pets. Perhaps the workmen teased or frightened them. They never afterwards renewed their visits.

Quite a growth of nut bushes threatened to grow up on the lawn, where they buried their spoil. They always secreted a few when fed, and carried

them away. I suppose they forgot where they were hidden, for in all parts of the grounds tiny trees sprang up, where, certainly they had never been planted by human hands.

The gamekeepers from a neighboring estate came purposely to see our squirrels, and went away satisfied with the truth of their master's report of the tameness to which they had been brought by the exercise of sympathy, discretion, and the total absence of restraint and coercion.

The son of St. Barbe, the dog who was so friendly with our squirrels, could not bear them, and used to try to climb trees in pursuit of them. Rough was also naturally averse to cats, but formed such a friendship with one of ours and her progeny that, unless the kittens were sent too far away, he would fetch them back.

branches, where it had taken refuge after trying to find its way to its birthplace.

Rough persisted in his solicitations until they were crowned with complete success. Then, after kissing each other, the affectionate couple walked home side by side contentedly. The mother cat was often seen "kissing with patient love the stone that marks his burial-ground;" and mournfully prowling round the spot just above the croquet lawn, where our first favorite, the Heathside dog, was laid.

Nature vindicates herself, and Providence rebukes man's feeble judgment. If you feed the wild birds well, they will not be such pilferers of your seeds and fruits, and they will clear your shrubs and trees of their deadlier insect foes. The always harmonious sounds which haunt our hills and groves will give us sweeter melody than hired musicians. But the miscalled "Dumb Animals" can speak for themselves.

List to our hundred voices heard by mount, and stream, and rill,

The thousand mingled tones that rise above

the distant hill.

Nay, love me but for true love's perfect sake;

Cast all thy love upon my soul for stake,
As gamblers do with dice,
O'er-valiant in their vice,

Not once alone, nor only twice, And heal my wounded heart, and help its lonely ache.

If love between us without reason be, 'Tis reason good, for reasonless is he;

Then let him have his way, And do not strive or pray; With us the knave will surely stay, Seeing in fate's despite how well we twain

agree..

stand

When other loves grow cold

That are but bound by gold,

And propped with reasons manifold,

For love on reason based is built on shifting

Would gladly imitate !

Cornhill Magazine.

sand.

JAMES LEIGH JOYNES.

COMMON THINGS.

Leigh Joynes. 1892.

TO A SIGN-PAINTER.

O WORTHY artist, in my chair

I sat, and watched you working there,
A humble slave of art,

Upon the board which bears the sign
I saw you painting, line by line,
In hues astonishingly fine

That marvellous White Hart.

How gleaming white the creature shone,
How green the grass he stood upon,

When all was quite complete!
Observe the posture of the head,
The eye (a lurid spot of red),
The strange extremities, instead

Of ordinary feet!

things,