The shrew-mouse which I most often find is a short-tailed, rather thickset little creature, not wholly unlike his cousin the shrew-mole, and just as greedy and ferocious. When a boy I captured one of these mole-shrews and found to my astonishment that he was a bloodthirsty and formidable little beast of prey. He speedily killed and ate a partially grown white-footed mouse which I put in the same cage with him. (I think a full-grown mouse of this kind would be an overmatch for a shrew.) I then put a small snake in with him. The shrew was very active but seemed nearly blind, and as he ran to and fro he never seemed to be aware of the presence of anything living until he was close to it, when he would instantly spring on it like a tiger. On this occasion he attacked the little snake with great ferocity, and after an animated struggle in which the snake whipped and rolled all around the cage, throwing the shrew to and fro a dozen times, the latter killed and ate the snake in triumph. Larger snakes frequently eat shrews, by the way. Once last summer, while several of us were playing on the tennis ground, a mole-shrew suddenly came out on the court. I first saw him near one of the side lines, and ran after him; I picked him up in my naked hand, whereupon he bit me, and I then took him in my handkerchief. After we had all looked at him I put him down, and he scuttled off among the grass and went down a little hole. We resumed our game, but after a few minutes the shrew reappeared, and this time crossed the tennis court near the net, while we gathered about him. He was an absurd little creature and his motion in running was precisely like that of one of those mechanical toys in the shape of mice or little bears which are wound up and run around on wheels. When we put our rackets before him he uttered little, shrill, long-continued squeals of irritation. We let him go off in the grass, and this time he did not reappear for the day; but next afternoon he repeated the feat.