[7] The wild-cat is now almost, if not quite extinct in England, except in the northern parts. It is still, however, to be met with in Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. But the numbers of these animals that have been killed in different parts of the country have no doubt been much over-rated, as it is well known that the domestic cat will sometimes stray into the woods, bringing forth its young there, living on birds and small quadrupeds, and becoming a terrible destroyer of game. When, therefore, one of these half-wild cats happens to resemble the true wild-cat in colour, (which is an indistinct tabby,) it is at once pronounced to be a specimen of that animal. But Mr. Bell, (who, however, differs from almost all other naturalists on this point,) considers that the native wild-cat of Britain is quite a distinct species from the domestic cat, and that the latter does not owe its origin to the wild animal at all, though from what country the breed has been derived he is at a loss to determine. Such dreadful tales did Leatherwing relate of the extraordinary cunning and fierceness of this hideous animal! When he had finished, the squirrels became so terrified that they ran and hid themselves in their snug retreat, declaring to each other that they never should be happy till they were sure that the monster had been killed. They were particularly uneasy too about their young ones, who were now grown so strong that they were able to leave the nest; but their parents never allowed them to go out of their sight, or to ramble beyond the branches of the oak. One day Brush said to his partner, "Well, this is miserable work! I declare I have no peace night or day, but am always thinking or dreaming about this horrid wild-cat; I almost wish I had never been born, or at least, that I had been a water-rat, or, better still, that curious fellow called a mole, that Leatherwing talked to me about once." "And where does this mole live?" said Mrs. Brush. "Why, he spends almost all his life under the ground, and though it must be very dark and damp there, he is at least safe from being eaten up by wild beasts. He makes famous long caverns, branching out from each other and in one place he has a very comfortable nest, lined with dry grass and leaves, and among the roots of some tree he makes what Leatherwing called his fortress, because he always goes there when he is frightened. And all these nice places are safe under the ground. Oh! I really wish I was a mole! The wild-cat might come as soon as she pleased, then." "I think she would scratch the earth up with her great claws, and pull you out of your fortress, as you call it."