Clever and interesting as he was, Wrensie had his shortcomings. His disposition was not that of the typical bird: "Sweetness and light" were not his. In his spirit was none of the exuberant joy of the great songsters, nor any of the bonhommie of happy-go-lucky sparrows. During the whole term of our acquaintance not a sound left his throat! In complete silence did he pursue his vocation. A perfect helpmate, but a faulty companion. A very practical sort of bird he was, full of activity, but without vivacity. Can it be that the spirit of our industrial age is so pervasive that even the birds are unable to escape its influence? It would seem that evolution has produced the utilitarian and "strictly business" type of character among them. One day there was a noisy flutter of wings at the door, and the harsh cry of the butcher-bird was heard. On stepping out I saw feathers floating in the air. I concluded that I would see no more of my little companion and helper. The blue-bottle fly was avenged. THE SQUIRREL'S USE OF HIS TAIL. BY JAMES NEWTON BASKETT, MEXICO, MO. Of course every one who has had a pet squirrel has noticed what an important thing his tail seems to be to him. When he makes his toilet he usually ends by bringing the hairy brush around and apparently wiping his face with it, as though it were his towel. But I suspect that he is as much concerned, even here, about the care of his tail as about the cleanliness of his features, for Bunny's beauty, like that of some others, lies as much in his train as in his countenance. One use, therefore, of the squirrel's tail is to make him look pretty. I think, at least, no one can see him put it into such graceful curves along with his delightful postures without feeling that he is posing for esthetic effect. Still, a little study of his ways may make us think that there is a more practical purpose even in this feature of his tail's use. We had a pet squirrel in the house recently--one of the western fox species or variety. He had become quite tame in his cage before he was released in my study. At intervals I had him brought in, and we usually romped together at least once a day. At first everything was so new and strange to him that he was very shy and must go about investigating. I noticed that, as he approached anything which he feared might prove dangerous, he always projected his tail over his back far forward--sometimes feeling the object with the extreme hairs before touching it with his nose. He annoyed me greatly by tearing the wall paper from a certain angle. One day I threw a pamphlet so as to strike just above his nose while at his mischief. It frightened him badly, and he suspected that the scare had come out of the wall. But he could not resist the fascination of this sport, and it was interesting to watch him approach and try by all sorts of devices of his tail to see if the enemy were within.