We have come across many curious cases of ignorance on these points. A countryman who had dwelt with stoats and weasels all his life, and had killed hundreds by trap and gun, yet had no idea of the true difference. Whichever he saw, or killed and hung up by a twisted twig, he determined to be stoat or weasel according to its size. Then we remember a lady who kept chickens, and suffered the loss of half a brood. She called in a passing keeper to settle the question of the thief. After waiting a while the keeper shot a weasel in the act of returning for another chicken. The lady of the chickens was overjoyed at this retribution, and presented the keeper with half a crown. Her words in making the presentation have been treasured by the keeper: "This," said she, "is for shooting the horrid badger." * * * * * Chalk-Pit Haunts To the old chalk-pit, where the sun is trapped and the winds are kept at bay, come all kinds of creatures for warmth and sanctuary. However deserted the fields of winter seem to be--however silent and sullen--signs of life are never wanting in the chalk-pits; they are as inns to wayfarers who search the country for a living and lodging. Creep silently, against the wind, to the chalk-pit's edge, and in summer or winter, sunshine or shower, on a still day or a windy, you will catch a glimpse of some wild creature, a visitor, or one of those who have made their home in the pit for the sake of sustenance or shelter. * * * * * When the Fox sleeps The sparrow-hawk may be caught napping on some favourite perch, as on a stunted tree, in a sheltered nook. The partridge covey may be seen for a moment, as the birds revel in the powdery soil, roofed by an overhanging ledge--seeing you, they go whizzing off amid a little cloud of dust. In the dead herbage a wily old cock pheasant crouches, who long since denied himself the luxuries and the dangers of social life in the big woodlands: he crouches as he sees you, but not so quickly that you may not note the sinking of his glossy neck. Two or three rabbits scuttle off to the doors of their burrows. Through the bushes a hare steals away. No chalk-pit is complete without a rabbit-burrow, a blackbird, and a robin. If hounds came more often to the chalk-pits they would save themselves many a blank hour. There is no peace for the fox in the coverts, but the old chalk-pit is as quiet as a church. * * * * * When Ferret meets Fox