ged his little couch.

In his own country, where the cold is very severe in winter, its habit
is to become perfectly unconscious, exactly as if dead, and in that
state it can endure the rigour of the climate and wake up when the
temperature rises. It was once left in a cold room and became in this
apparently lifeless state. I was not alarmed, as I knew of its
peculiarity, but it really was difficult to believe it ever could
revive; there was no trace of warmth, or any apparent beating of the
heart, and so it lay for some days, but on bringing it into a warm room
it became as bright and active as ever. It seems a more intense form of
hibernation than that of our squirrel and dormouse.

The naturalist at San Bernardino, from whom I obtained this mouse, told
me he had kept one as a pet for many years, and his specimen lived
entirely without water; as there was sufficient moisture in the wheat
grains on which it fed to supply its need; but I think it is cruel to
keep anything without the means of quenching thirst which might arise
from an artificial mode of life, so my little pet has always a small jar
of water to which I know it resorts from its requiring to be refilled
from time to time.

[Illustration]

SANCHO THE TOAD.

About four years ago I began to feed a toad that had found its way into
the conservatory. He sat daily in one place expecting his meal-worms,
and when he had snapped them up with his curious sticky tongue he would
retire to some hidden nook and be invisible until the next day. Each
winter he has hibernated as soon as cold weather began, and reappeared
with the spring sunshine. Sancho is now a very portly, and most amusing
pet.

Few people would guess how much character can be shown by even this
poor, despised reptile when treated with real kindness, regularly fed,
and never frightened or abused. I will describe what happens when Sancho
is "shown to the public."

Some meal-worms are thrown on the pavement near him. He sits for a time
gazing at them with his gold-rimmed eyes; then slowly creeps towards
them, fixes his eyes on one of the worms bends his head a little towards
it, then one hears a snap and the prey is taken. The act is so rapid
that one can never see the tongue that has picked up the
meal-worm--simply it is gone! The toad's eyes are tightly shut whilst he
swallows the morsel, and then he turns to pick up a second. Now is the
time to approach him from behind and begin to strok