Beatrice is having so many visitors that we are thinking of having a guest book and requesting all callers to register. Certainly her family is worth looking at, and up to the present there have been no casualties. The whole nine are feeding and frisking and laying on fat. It is really amazing how fast they are growing. They are not only plumper, but more certain on their feet. Most of them can now stand on three legs and scratch an ear with a hind foot without losing their balance. And fight!—I am really ashamed of them. If a couple of the little rascals meet when wandering around the pen they promptly rush at each other with open mouths. Of course they are not able to do any damage, and they may really be playing, but their actions look bloodthirsty and they manage to raise weals and welts on each other's skins with their little teeth. All of them have red marks along their sides, faintly visible, that were caused by embryo tusks in these little battles that are probably due to an instinct inherited from fierce old tuskers of the jungle. When not fighting, most of their waking hours are spent in efforts to root, though their big, floppy ears seem to overbalance them and they fall on their noses when they try to put steam in their work. But most of their time is devoted to sleep, which also has its activities. They huddle together side by side and on top of one another, and look like a pile of plump sausages. Every few seconds one of them gives a convulsive little jump as if suffering from nightmare, and the pile is never still. While watching them yesterday I had a chance to verify an observation made by a friend. He told me that in cold weather the little fellows at the end of the pile get chilled and at once get up and root their way into the middle of the pile, where they will be warm. At present the air is mild and they were not troubled much in that way, but once when a draft from an open door struck them the fellow on the outside felt a chill along his spine. He promptly got up and pushed his way into the centre by lying on top of the others and gradually wriggling down. Presently the one that was left exposed felt a similar chill and followed the example of the first. One after another went through the performance, and while I was watching them the sleeping pile moved across the pen, as the changes were all being made from one end. If it were really cold, so that the fellows on both ends would be getting chilled and constantly pushing into the centre, their sleeping hours would be almost as active as the waking hours. Beatrice has quieted down since the first day and does not seem so much alarmed when any one approaches. In fact, if one of the family is picked up and makes a protesting squeal she merely grunts inquiringly. She is very proud of her family, and already it is evident that she has her favourites. One little fellow with a cow-lick on his back gets Benjamin's portion at feeding time, and whenever he comes poking around her head she seems to caress him with her nose instead of rooting him out of the way. But in a few weeks she will bite their heads off if they come around her when she is feeding. As soon as they are able to root for themselves her affection for them will disappear.