This morning, before we started for our walk, we went to look at a hedgehog which had been brought to us the preceding day. We discovered that the animal, in the course of the night, had crept into a bag with a quantity of bran in it, and that there were four little ones with her. There they were as snug as possible, the mother and little urchins! Very curious little animals too these young hedgehogs. The spines or prickles were nearly white and soft, and were not spread over the whole body, but arranged in rows down it. The appearance was that of a plucked duckling when it is what is called "penny." They were perfectly blind, and the passage of the ear was quite closed; they uttered faint, puppy-like cries. I was desirous to try and rear them; but I had grave doubts about the old one, for those who have attempted to rear young hedgehogs have generally found that the mother ate her offspring. We removed her, young and all, to another place, giving them plenty of straw and supplying bread and milk for the old one. Buffon, amongst others, relates "that he had repeatedly placed the mother with the young in a place of confinement; but that, instead of suckling them, she invariably killed and devoured them, notwithstanding that she was provided with plenty of food."