had the space betwixt the wires been sufficiently wide to have admitted her teeth or paws to reach it. I was surprised at this occurrence, as I had been led to believe that the harvest-mouse was merely a granivorous animal. I caught the fly, and made it buzz in my fingers against the wires. The mouse, though usually shy and timid, immediately came out of her hiding place, and running to the spot, seized and devoured it. From this time I fed her with insects, whenever I could get them, and she always preferred them to any other kind of food that I offered her. When this mouse was first put into her cage, a piece of fine flannel was folded up into the dark part of it, as a bed, and I put some grass and bran into the large open part. In the course of a few days all the grass was removed; and on examining the cage, I found it very neatly arranged betwixt the folds of the flannel, and rendered more soft by being mixed with the nap of the flannel, which the animal had torn off in considerable quantity for the purpose. The chief part of this operation must have taken place in the night; for although the mouse was generally awake and active during the day-time, yet I never once observed it employed in removing the grass. On opening its nest, about the latter end of October, 1804, 1 remarked that there were, amongst the grass and wool at the bottom, about forty grains of maize. These appeared to have been arranged with some care and regularity; and every grain had the corcule, or growing part, eaten out, the lobes only being left. This seemed so much like an operation induced by the instinctive propensity that some quadrupeds are endowed with, for storing up food for support during the winter months, that I soon afterwards put into the cage about a hundred additional grains of maize. These were all, in a short time, carried away; and on a second examination, I found them stored up in the manner of the former. But though the animal was well supplied with other food, and particularly with bread, which it seemed fond of; and although it continued perfectly active through the whole winter, on examining its nest a third time, about the end of November, I observed that the food in its repository was all consumed, except about half-a-dozen grains. This interesting little animal died in the month of December, 1806, after a confinement of two years and a quarter. I have some reason to believe that its death was occasioned by water being put into its cage, in a shell picked up on the sea-shore, that had been much impregnated with salt."—Bingley's Quadrupeds, p. 267.
Note on the Nest of the Harvest-mouse. "I have procured some of the mice mentioned in my former letters, a young one, and a female with young, both of which I have preserved in brandy. From the colour, shape, size, and manner of nesting, I make no doubt but that the species is nondescript. They are much smaller, and more slender than the Mus domesticus medius of Ray, and have more of the squirrel or dormouse colour. Their belly is white; a straight line along their sides divides the shades of their back and belly. They never enter into houses; are carried into ricks and barns with the sheaves; abound in harvest; and build their nests amidst the straws of the corn above the ground, and sometimes in thistles. They breed as many as eight at a litter, in a little round nest composed of the blades of grass or wheat. One of these nests I procured this autumn, most artificially platted, and composed of the blades of wheat; perfectly round, and about the size of a cricket-ball; with the aperture so ingeniously closed, that there was no discovering to what part it belonged. It was so compact and well filled, that it would roll across the table without being discomposed, though it contained eight little mice, that were naked and blind. As this nest was perfectly full, how could the dam come at her litter respectively, so as to administer a teat to each? Perhaps she opens different places for that purpose, adjusting them
