tle history has no
connexion with the other parts of my tale; so if you are in a very
great hurry to get to the end of the book, you can skip it altogether,
but I hope you will not behave so rudely to a poor author, who has
really done his best to entertain his readers.

Leatherwing's tale was called--

SOME PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE SMALLEST QUADRUPED IN THE
WORLD.[9]

[9] When this was written, I was not aware that there existed in
other countries a quadruped still more diminutive than our little
harvest-mouse. However, as "Minimus" declares that he was much
smaller than others of his species, the title of his history may
still be correct.

"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 mi