BY ELEANOR TYRRELL AUTHOR OF “HOW I TAMED THE WILD SQUIRRELS,” ETC. THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, Ltd. LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK...

Amongst the many satisfactions of writing is that of receiving letters of appreciation from unknown friends. From all parts of the United Kingdom, from Canada and from South Africa, animal lovers have written to me expressing their pleasure in reading “How I Tamed the Wild Squirrels,” published in the autumn of 1914 by Messrs. Nelson and Sons, Ltd. The note most frequently struck is that of gratitude for something to think about that had lessened for a while the sadness and depression caused by

St Katherine’s. Hook Heath. MORE ABOUT THE SQUIRRELS. As I am often asked about the little beasts whose adventures were set forth in “How I Tamed the Wild Squirrels,” perhaps a further account of my furry friends will not come amiss. I no longer keep any of them confined. After the death of three in the winter of 1914, I resolved that, dear and fascinating as they were as little companions in my room, I would never have them caged and in artificial conditions again. There are two pairs of German

THE TRAGEDY. We had a very cold snap the last fortnight in January. Morning after morning the water, and also the milk, in the squirrel-house were frozen into solid blocks of ice. I did not worry. I thought squirrels were such hardy little animals. The year before, Bunty and Fritz had lived happily through the same conditions, and been healthy and well all the time. I did not take into account that both these squirrels, being so tame and confiding, were never afraid to come inside the room, and

FREEDOM AND HAPPINESS. It will be remembered that I had obtained another squirrel as a mate for Laurence when he should leave London and come to Hook Heath and freedom. This little creature had arrived on the thirteenth of January; had been kept in the conservatory while the bitter weather lasted; and had been put into the garden squirrel-house on the twenty-eighth of the month. I called her Sulky at first, for she remained so implacably invisible; and, though food disappeared, I never caught a