Time passed rapidly on, and the autumn drew near. The young squirrels were now become so strong and active, and so fond of scampering about, that their parents could hardly prevent them from rambling away by themselves much further than was safe for them. One morning Brush was almost certain that he had seen their terrible enemy in a distant tree, and as his children happened to be unusually frolicsome just then, and determined to have their own way, he thought he would try to keep them at home, by relating a little story which he had heard at different times, from Leatherwing. The old fellow said, that, one evening, as he was flying about in a garden, he observed a very young lady sitting in a summer-house, holding in her hand the smallest mouse he had ever seen, fastened by a string and a leather collar round its neck. So, as the bat was of a very inquisitive, prying disposition, he hung himself up to the ceiling of the summer-house, determined to overhear the conversation that was going on below. It appeared that the mouse was relating his adventures to his mistress. Now to tell you the truth, this little history has no connexion with the other parts of my tale; so if you are in a very great hurry to get to the end of the book, you can skip it altogether, but I hope you will not behave so rudely to a poor author, who has really done his best to entertain his readers. Leatherwing's tale was called-- SOME PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE SMALLEST QUADRUPED IN THE WORLD.[9] [9] When this was written, I was not aware that there existed in other countries a quadruped still more diminutive than our little harvest-mouse. However, as "Minimus" declares that he was much smaller than others of his species, the title of his history may still be correct. "Don't push and squeeze so Tiney! you take up more room than three or four of us." "What a story! It is you Softsides, that want to have half the nest for yourself." "Yes," squeaked sister Sleek, "and he has almost scratched my poor eye out,--the cross creature! only because I asked him to let me suck when he had had enough, and he knew how dreadfully thirsty I was." "Be quiet children, will you?" said mamma; "and let me go to sleep. You forget what a terrible headache I have, and how tired I am with running away from that frightful weasel that chased me almost to death this morning. I should like to know what you would have done if he had caught me! Now mind! if I hear any more quarrelling, as surely as a grain of wheat has a husk, I will kick some of you out of the nest, and let the weasel or the owl make a meal of you."