MY PET FOX. once succeeded, she seemed determined not to be baffled in her subsequent attempts. As long as I was watching her she would be quiet enough, coiled up in her bed or her tub of snow; but the moment my eyes were off her, or she thought me asleep, she worked hard to effect her liberation. First she would draw herself back as far as she could get, and then suddenly darting forward, would bring up at the end of her chain with a jerk which sent her reeling on the floor; then she would pick herself up, panting as if her little heart would break, shake out her disarranged coat, and try again. But this she would do with much deliberation. For a moment she would sit quietly down, cock her head cunningly on one side, follow the chain with her eye along its whole length to its fastening in the floor, and then she would walk leisurely to that point, hesitate a moment, and then make another plunge. All this time she would eye me sharply, and if I made any movement, she would fall down at once on the floor and pretend sleep.
She is a very neat and cleanly creature. She is everlastingly brushing her clothes, and she bathes very regularly in her bath of snow. This last is her great delight. She roots up the clean white flakes with her diminutive nose, rolls and rubs and half buries herself in them, wipes her face with her soft paws, and when all is over she mounts with her delicate fingers to the side of the tub, looks around her very knowingly, and barks the prettiest little bark that ever was heard. This is her way of enforcing admiration; and, being now satisfied with her performance, she gives a goodly number of shakes to her sparkling coat, and then, happy and refreshed, she crawls to her airy bed in the "bull's-eye" and sleeps.
