Perhaps the most beautiful and interesting—as well as the smallest—lemuriæ animals inhabiting Madagascar belong to the group called Cheirogale, or mouse-lemurs, of which there are seven species. As their name implies, they are very small, the dwarf species (_Cheirogaleus minor_) being only four inches long, with a tail of six inches. This pretty little animal is remarkable also for its large and very resplendent eyes, for the eye admits so much light at dusk that quite an unusual brilliancy is produced. The brown mouse-lemur (_Cheirogaleus major_) is larger than the last-named species, being seven or eight inches long. Most, if not all, of the species live in the highest trees, and make a globular nest of twigs and leaves; they all appear to be nocturnal animals, as one might suppose from the structure of their eyes. The smallest, or dwarf, species, is said to be very shy and wild, very quarrelsome and fights very fiercely. Some of these little animals, if not all of them, have a time of summer sleep; and the tail, which is grossly fat at the beginning of that period, becomes excessively thin at its close, its fat being slowly absorbed to maintain vitality. The two (or three) species of mouse-lemur here noticed inhabit the south-eastern forest region; others appear to be confined to the north-western woods. [26] A writer in a defunct newspaper, _The Madagascar Times_, of 10th August 1889, describes in so true and graphic a fashion the old style of Malagasy _filanjàna_ bearers, in the following rhymes, that I think they are well worth preserving in these pages:— Bearing their burdens cheerily, laughing the livelong day, Pacing o’er dale and mountain, wending their toilsome way; Puffing and panting, up hills steeply slanting, Skilfully bearing the _filanjàna_ canting, Grumbling not at the sun’s scorching ray. Wading through swamp and brooklet, splashing their course along, Bounding through plain and forest, thinking the track not long. Chattering and pattering, with tongue ever clattering, Joyous if of it the Vazàha has a smattering; Growling not at the rain’s stinging thong. Pacing with even footsteps, never losing time, Changing places racing, like the measured beat of rhyme. Lifting and shifting, but never desisting, Always each other with pleasure assisting; Happy through all the toiling daytime. Tramping with wondrous vigour, moving with easy grace, Pausing not in their journey, dashing as in a race; Smiling and wiling, for a present beguiling, Ever joke-cracking, if the Vazàha is not riling— Such is the life of our native _mpilànja_, This is the marvellous way that they keep up the pace! _Note._—“Vazàha” is the native word for Europeans; _mpilànja_ means a _filanjàna_ bearer. [Sidenote: ORNAMENTAL PATTERNS]