ves soft and elastic to the prickles
below,--because the young oaks sheltered us behind, and we had a
charming outlook over the brook in front, between a gnarled alder and a
young sycamore, whose embracing branches were the lintel of our doorway.

No. I chose this particular spot in this particular wood, because I had
reason to believe it to be a somewhat neglected bit of what men call
"property,"--because the bramble bushes were unbroken, the fallen leaves
untrodden, the hyacinths and ragged-robins ungathered by human feet and
hands,--because the old fern-fronds faded below the fresh green
plumes,--because the violets ripened seed,--because the trees were
unmarked by woodmen and overpopulated with birds, and the water-rat sat
up in the sun with crossed paws and without a thought of
danger,--because, in short, no birds'-nesting, fern-digging,
flower-picking, leaf-mould-wanting, vermin-hunting creatures ever came
hither to replenish their ferneries, gardens, cages, markets, and
museums.

My feelings can therefore be imagined when I was roused from an
afternoon nap one warm summer's day by the voices of men and women.
Several possibilities came into my mind, and I imparted them to my wife.

"They may be keepers."

"They may be poachers."

"They may be boys birds'-nesting."

"They may be street-sellers of ferns, moss, and so forth."

"They may be collectors of specimens."

"They may be pic-nic-ers--people who bring salt twisted up in a bit of
paper with them, and leave it behind when they go away. Don't let the
children touch it!"

"They may be--and this is the worst that could happen--men collecting
frogs, toads, newts, snails, _and hedgehogs_ for the London markets. We
must keep very quiet. They will go away at sunset."

I was quite wrong, and when I heard the slow wheels of a cart I knew
it. They were none of these things, and they did not go away. They were
travelling tinkers, and they settled down and made themselves at home
within fifty yards of mine.

My nerves have never been strong since that day under the furze bush. My
first impulse was to roll myself up so tightly that I got the cramp,
whilst every spine on my back stood stiff with fright. But after a time
I recovered myself, and took counsel with Mrs. Hedgehog.

"Two things," said she, "are most important. We must keep the children
from gadding, and we must make them hold their tongues."

"They never can be so foolish as to wish to quit your si