THE POTTER JOURNAL
JLI STD
HE"WS ITEM.
Jno. S. Mann,
Proprietor,
VOLUME XXV, NO. 4.
The POTTER JOURNAL
I
AND
M:WS ITEM.
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY AT
(- (> U1 >ER SP O RT, PA J
v
]
l office Cor. Main anil Third.)
TFRMS, X 1.75 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE.
J„o. *. Mann, S. F. Hamilton,
Pmp RTV! R. PMMer.
C. J. CURTIS,
Attorney at TON and Rbfriet Attorney,
, >{;; "on MA IS St.. (ovr if:' I'"*t OjfiClt, j
(.'< iI'DEIISI'OKT, PA., |!
Solicits all business pret.ilnin? to Ms profession. ' i
Special attention pivoii to collections.
J MASS. AKTITPK H. MSSS ,
JOHN S. MANN A SON,
tttorners at Law and < oiireyaneers, ,
ropI:I:SI'ITT, I*A.,
ColtoctioM promptly attended TE. | T
AHhnrß.Mann,
General Insurance Agritt A Notary Public. I
S. S. GREENMAN,
<
ATTOBXEY R A.T LAW, I
OFFKF OVEN FORSTER'S STORE,) I ,
O trUKUSPOKT, PA
. |
I: CT> N. r. LAItRABKF.
OLMSTED & LARRABEE,
ATT< : II V KY- \Nl> RORXSKLOKS AT LAW <
\ n'' St. opposite Court House.) : .
torDKP.SPOKT, PKNX'A.
SETH LEWIS. | t
Attemey at law and Insurance Agent. ,
J.KWisVILLE, PA. j
A.M.REYNOLDS, <
"O E IST T I S T , ]
RRICFI :s OT.MSrr.K BLOCK.)
COUDERSPORT, PA.
I Briker House, j
I'.KOWN ,Y KEI.LT. l'ropr's.
Urner of SE(IIM) and EAST Streets, >
l'< >NLHSPOIIT. PENN A. t
r> atiention jwiU t • lite eonv.'itience ami i
com tort of ("OESTS.
W<WI statWng attMibm. |T
Lewi svi lie Hotel,
forncr of MAP and NORTH Streets, |
LEWISYILLE, PA.
8-Good Stabling attached. !]
PEARSALL & WEBSTER,
PAINTERS,
1,1 *.IN S'l. ABOVE sECON 1), (over French's store,) !
COLPERSPURT, PA. A
• I . iti ■■■_. Glazing, Graining, Calelminltig, a
-htii-'. Papcr-hanjfiug, etc., done j ,
neatness promptness and ''
dispatch in all cases, and ! .
<a:isfaetlon jruar- j t
lutled. I .
1 (ED ?AI.V!- fcr sale. 2425-1 i
1 9
t'. T MI "ON J. s. MANN D
THOMPSON & MANN, 1
DEALERS IN j
Druirs Medicines, Books, Stationery,
: '-SJ GODiiS. PtINTS. OILS. W#LL PAPER. SC.. 1
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S. F. HAMILTON.
IOOK SND JOB PRINTER ji
•irair Main and Third.) i *
' <H DEUSPORT, PA. s
| i!
C. M. ALLEN. 1
s nrcioal and Mechanical Dentist, '
LEWISVILLE, PA. t
.ranteed to give satisfaction. j t
D J. CROWELL, c
:: •H. Ball J sister i # B siting Machine, a
NN EM \ HONING, Cameron co.. Pa. ,
t ' EC I 'TSIIIXG IJK MA CIIISK to
a
L. L' Machines and General Custom Work *
2422-tf j
_ John 3rcm, ,
!| <Mise, Sirn „
Omental, decorative & rrsro
r PA INTER,
OUDERSPORT, PA. ;
ißa l\<; and PAFER HANGING done 1
' 'L neatness and dispatch. t
•n guaranteed.
, W ith
I AK i :i{ HOUSE
• Tnptlv attended to. S
J B. NEEFE,
RRl AGE FACTORY,
LDEHSPORT, PENX'A. %
I . ' ' Wagon-making, Blacksmlthing, 1
: J AT'E Trimming and Repairing done ,
T. -<, I neatness and duralitlitv. charges '
242.". lv J
c. BREUNLE.
IVLTII EK WOHK,
PA.
. ■ Hea Utones, etc., tlnlshe<l to order,
I " tJJ'N- * UU " :I
' • t
receive prompt aUentlon-
RESPOXSE to the name of MARY L.
•TONES at the roll-call in the "Chapter
of Sorrows" held at Oswayo. June 20th.
1873.—Read by Rachel T. Lviuan.
"Death loves a shining mark."
Oft-times the young, the fair, the gift
ed, the dearly loved and fondly clier
i (shed must bow to the stern mandate
that severs "the golden chain," loos
ens "the Silver cord" and breaks the
"pitcher at the fountain," as in the
ease of our dear departed sister.
.MARY L. JONES.
She was born in Poultney, Yt,
Dec. 14th, 1859; removed with her
parents to this County in the fall of
1 ' s ss, where she resided till her death
March 25th, 1873; endearing her
self to a large circle of friends bv her
many noble qualities of mind and
heart. None knew but to love her
none named her but to praise. Her
untiring energy and zeal in every
undertaking and earnest desire to
excel, united with an amiable dispo
sition, rendered her an acceptable
and successful teacher; everywhere
winning the hearts of her pupils, en
couraging them to set cfcheir mark
higher and live for a noble purpose.
She possessed the kind and generous j
heart of an Electa. The poorest of
her flock always found in her a!
sympathetic friend. For such she
ever had kind words and pleasant
smiles that left impressions on their
young hearts never to be effaced.
Though warned by failing health
that she needed rest she taught until !
the spring of 1872, when she left
school duties to assume new respon
sibilities; left early associations and
childhood's friends to gladden the
heart and home of him she had chos-:
en from all the woild beside to be !
her life companion. Alas! how soon !
to meet her last great change. "Robed
for the bridal and robed for the grave" j
with only a few fleeting months be
tween. Last year June's clustering j
roses crowned her a queenly bride—
to-day they blossom above an early
grave; wiiile in the realms above,
her freed spirit is wreathed with
heaven 1 y immortel 1 es.
"How passingly sweet the transition !
From In r Earth-home to Heme in the
sky.
Surely "death was robbed of its terror!
To our sister 'twas Heaven to die."
A8 she faded, day by day, all that
art could devise, or love suggest was
adduced to arrest the fell disease; but j
Jesus' love ami claim was more po
tent than any earthly tie- While
triends fondly sought to prolong her
stay lie beckoned her away, and
angels sung a 'welcome home.'
Though we think of her now as wear
ing a starry crown, a shining, and
tuning a golden harp with the angel
ic choir above, we sadly miss her j
earthly presence. When told by her
sister "Life would be nothing with
out her" she said "0, live noble
lives and sometimes think of rao."
In the social circle, which she was
so eminently fitted to adorn, the loss
is deeply felt. The Sabbath-school has
lost an earnest and faithful teacher.
It was a dying wish that she might
be remembered by the different socie
ties of which she was a member, j
These, too, miss her genial sntile,
cheerful voice and energetic mind,
and mourn the loss of one of their
brightest ornaments. O, how the
parents,brothers and sister miss their
loved and precious one.
"Sadly, so sadly, our bosoms are swell
ink',
l*p from our lone hearts the tear drops
are welling,
She was our "sunshine," the light of
our dwelling.
Mary, our darling."
They can hardly realize that she
is gone to return no more, and al
most listen for the light foot-step, 1
expecting to meet the warm presence
of her life and see the sunny smile—
yet are mocked by the remembrance
that they have laid her away in the
silent tomb. There is another, a
stricken mourner, whose aching heart
so sadly misses the fond, confiding
spirit who. for a few brief months,
was the ligltA of his home and with
whom he trustingly hoped to spend
a long and happy life. Alas! how
seldom are life's brightest fancies re
i.lized. To-day, sad and alone, he
treads life's weary way. The strong
est tie that bound her to earth was
her love for husband and dear friends.
When she realized that these ties
were verv soon to be broken she said
"'twas not hard to die; the severing
COUDERSPORT, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 13. 1873.
of earthly ties Was all that made it
bitter." She thought this world
"very beautiful," and to be happy
one need only look through nature up
, to nature's (rod. Her last words
were, "God! O, I love Him so much."
Let us emulate her example to pcr
, severe in every good work; remem
ber her dying words and live pure
and noble lives; ever keeping in view
the "Star" that points to the
"Land far away, 'mid the stars we are
| told,
Where they know not the sorrows of
time;
Where the pure waters wander through
vallies of gold
And life is a treasure sublime;
Tis the land of our God ; 'tis the home
of the soul;
AVhere ages of splendor eternally roll;
j Where the way-weary traveler reaches
his goal
Ou the evergreen mountains of life."
[Front the Alta California.]
Dundreary on his Muscle.
We have already informed our
readers that Mr. Sothern, during his
trip from New York, had got into
some little trouble on the cars. Our
reporter called on Mr. Sothern, but
was unable to see him. Our reporter
then interviewed the conductor.
It appears that Mr. Towne had the
thoughtful courtesy to telegraph to
Ogden to the effect that Mr. Sothern
w as to have the sole Use of the direc
tors' car. Mr. Sothern appreciated
the kind compliment, and telegraphed
his thanks, Ac. The following morn- 1
ing, however, he discovered a six- J
foot-twoer calmly stretched on his
sofa, coolly smoking his cigars and
sipping his iced claret. Mr. Sothern
suggested in gentle terms that
the big stranger had made a slight
mistake, as the car was a private
j one.
"Private be d—d," exclaimed the
| stalwart stranger. "It's big enough
for a dozen thin devils like you."
"Possibly," replied Mr. S., "but
as you have not even the politeness
to apologize for the intrusion I re
quest you leave it."
"Not if I know it," ejaculated the
brawny stranger.
Enter the conductor,
j Conductor■ — Now then. sir. please
remove to your own seat.
Mysterious stranger —lf either of
you bother me 3113- longer I'll knock
your heads together and pitch you
out of the car. It's only going
twenty five miles an hour and it
won't hurt you much.
Sothern (coolly taking his coat
off) —Come, this is getting interest
ing. Conductor, sit down and do a
gentle smoke while I endeavor to j
bring our large friend to his senses.
Conductor sits and smokes. Gloomy
stranger rises, glares and makes a ;
rush at Sothern, hitting him a heavy
blow 011 the mouth.
"There, that settles the matter,"
say 9 the stranger. "Not quite," re
plies Sothern, and playfully giving
him one, two, three on e3 - es, nose
and mouth, closes with him, and
with one wrestling "cross buttock"
sends him spinning over the rail at
the end of the car. The alarm is
given and the train stops. The ut3's
terious stranger is picked up insen
sible, bleeding at the nose, ears and
mouth, Sothern relinquished the pri
vate car to him. A doctor on tlie
train attends to him and sa}-s, "A
compound fracture." He still lies in 1
I extreme danger; but the verdict of
every one is, "served him right."
The stranger's name is James Law
son, of Peoria.
[From the New York Tribune.]
G'LANG.
Gen. Horace Porter drives a good
stepping team of small bays to a
Victoria, an attractive family team,
i Gen. Babcock, Private Secretary to
the President, drives two longtailed
sorrel mares, good steppers, to an i
ordinary top buggy. He also has a
famil}- carriage.
Mr. and Mrs. H. T. Paddock (Mag
gie Mitchell) are often seen with j
their handsome little daughter tak
ing the air behind a pair of strong,
heavy, high-headed sorrels to a high
box. low seated, roomy family carri
age—a verv noticeable turn-out.
Mrs. Paddock also drives a large,
valuable black horse to a low-bodied
driving wagon, with top.
Ja\' Gould has probabl}- the most
costh- turn-out, but one of the most
modest, to be seen on the road. His
team is a pair of powerful thoroughly
' matched bays, fine long tails, straight
legs, high heads, and whose action is
at once easy and strong. They are
| driven to a beautiful landau, very
large and deep, and exceedingly
graceful. His harness, although not
showy, is in excellent keeping and
very rich. The livery of the driver
is very subdued, and the whole equi
page would not attract as much at
tention as a single horse to a two
wheeled dog cart that parades with
a footman up and down the avenue
every evening.
John Hooy has probably the best
stables at the Branch. Mrs. llocv's
! carriage is a heavy English landau,
drawn by a black and a bay, banged,
white driver and footman in knee
breeches. The team is a good one,
and the carriage new and heavy. He
has a brown and chestnut trotting
team, which it is said has been driven
in less than 2: 50 to pole. It is pro
bably the best team at the Branch.
Miss Josey Hoey, his daughter,
drives by all odds the most stvlish
and valuable turnout of any lady on
the road. Her horses are of blight
sorrel, perfectly matched, fast travel
ers and mettlesome. Her wagon is
a very elaborate, long-geared basket
phaeton, with high rumble. She
manages her team with much grace
and judgment. Mr. John Hoey, jr.,
drives to alight wagon his bay trotter
Tom Thumb. This horse, it is said,
can beat young Murphy's on the
track hut not on the road. A young
er son of Mr. Hoey's has a team of
Shetland ponies about three feet
high, which he drives and rides.
Some of the accounts from Long
Branch portraying the extent and
value of the President's horses and
carriages have been very much exag
gerated. There are probably twenty
stables worth more than his (I here
use stable in the horseman's sense,
meaning the horses) now at the
Branch. He has four bays and a
pair of colts. One team of bays,
driven to Mrs. Grant's landau, is
composed of Cincinnati and Egypt,
ene of which was Gen. Grant's war
horse, and the other he lias owned
ever since he lias been in Washing
ton. Both horses are getting quite
old, although they are yet good step
pers. The other pair of bays are
also driven to Mrs. Grant's carriage,
and also to a high-seated phaeton.
Sometimes they are driven four in
hand to the heavy landau. The only
thing that would attract attention to
this team is the white lines and
check-straps, which seem to be gen
erally tabooed by persons of refine
ment. The carriages of the Piesi
dent are four in number, and are as
unostentatious as any gentleman
could wish. The family carriage
has been driven ever since Gen. Grant
became President. It is substantial
but not showy. The high phaeton
or drag is the same in which the
owner drove from his 1 street resi
dence in Washington to the Capitol
when he first took the oath of office.
It is, therefore, well worn, but is jet
a verv respectable carriage and that
is all. He has also a good piano-box
buggy, no better than a hundred
farmers have within twenty miles of
New York. To this the President
drives his pair of colts. which are of
excellent action and speed. This is
the best team he owns. In addition
to these carriages, Miss Grant has a
modest one-horse basket phaeton to
which she sometimes drives Cincin
nati and sometimes a pair of black
ponies. Gen. Grant never drives out
in the family carriage, but instead
prefers bis phaeton or light buggy.
This statement is in simple fairness
due to correct an unjust prejudice
on the part of a portion of the pub
lic.
The turn-out of all others at the
Branch, which most reminds the be
holder of the days of Fisk and Helm
bold, is that of "Col." Charles 11.
Delevan, of New Y'ork, who says he
is descended from one of the oldest
and most aristocratic families in the
land. The colonel is reputed to be
worth several millions of dollars,
and is a bachelor of eccentric habits
and disposition. He is of gigantic
proportions and must at one time
have been an attractive figure. He
is harmlessly prosy in conversation,
dwelling rather too much .at length
on his horses. His height is so great
that it was necessary to construct a
bed for his accommodation before he
became a patron of the hotel. The
C olonel s team consists of four wcll
i matched, spirited blacks, which are
well groomed and richly caparisoned.
: His carriage is an immense high
Berlin phaeton—an exact copy, as
; the Colonel says, of the one the Em
peror William drives in. The Colo
nel says lie saw the Emperoi in his
carriage and he liked the style so
, much that he ordered a Berlin coach
maker to duplicate it, which he did
at a cost of $3,000. For a driver and
footman the Colonel has two negroes
of nearly his own size, black as Ere
bus, and as ostentatious as possible.
Their livery is brilliant, if it is not
in good taste. A broad gold band
encircles their hats, and gilt buttons
are as thick on their coats as crying
babies and scolding nurses are in
front of my room at this minute,
which is going as far as the truth
can. The neck-cloths are brilliant,
and an artificial Bouquet of crimson
tlowers is secured to the lappel of
each coat. The driver is the same
who drove for Fisk, and he manages
his blacks, four-in-hand, with a great
flourish—the Colonel sitting in the
back seat as serenely as though lie
were, indeed, the Emperor of all
Germany, and the owner of all the
Jerseys. The Colonel says he has
also four bays and four grays, all
perfectly matched.
ABOUT WEASELS.
"Spry as a weasel" is a very com
mon phrase; and yet I know of no
family of animals concerning which
it is so nearly impossible to got any
thing like accurate information from
our natural histories.
The genus 3lustela , or in straight
English, the weasels, includes—as
every one knows—besides the com
mon weasel and the fisher, the er
mine, the marten and the sable.
But if anybody can distinguish these
last three apart, from the printed de
scriptions, they w ill do better than
the writer of this sketch, who has
often tried and as often got mud
dled. What one naturalist affirms
another disputes, till a mere amateur
might well lose confidence in them
all.
During the last four or five years,
I have had personal dealings, byway
of traps, with five members of this
family ; and I hope our boj- readers
w ill pardon w hat seems to me a very
natural desire to say a few words
about them, which 1 shall try to ren
der plain and reliable.
The five to which I allude are the
m.nk, the fisher, the stoat (ermine),
the marten and the common weasel.
These five are common in this state
(Maine) and in northern America
generally. They may be termed the
American branch of the family,
though found in the Old World as
well. But the sable, property speak
ing, is never found in America. Old
hunters sometimes speak of trapping
"sable," but they mean the pine mar
ten, which they by mistake confound
with the Siberian sable, an animal
which differs from our marten con
siderably in its looks and very much
in the quality of its fur, the ears and
nose of the sable being much the
longer. And its costly fur, which 1
may briefly describe, consists of a
downy wool next to the hide, through
which grows a thick coat of short
hair. Then, above both of these,
there rises a third coat of longer
hair. This last will lie in any direc
tion you may stroke it, backward or
forward. The value of the skin de
pends on this outside coat, accord
ing as it is abundant, black and
glossy.
I find the American MuMdidve, as
taken in our traps, to range in size
as follows: first and smallest, the
brown weasel; next and about twice
as large, the ermine; then the mink;
then the pine marten; and, largest
of all, the fisher or fisher-cat; this
last often growing from three to four
feet in length and being withal a
very fierce, not to 6av dangerous,'
animal, more than a match for a
hound. These have long, slender
bodies, leap when they run and are
alike wonderful for their courage,
agility and grit. Indeed, I have of
ten wondered that "sportsmen" have
never pitted them in matched fights,
since they are the most obstinate
fighters in nature.
I The little brown weasel is the
| smallest and perhaps the most war
i like, of them all. Go out to where
some noisy, fishy-smelling brook
tumbles among great, mossy stones,
shaded by dense hemlocks and you
will very likely see one darting and
peeping aliout. Don't be afraid of
scaring him; he won't run for yon;
he will stay about those stones as
long as he pleases in spite of yon.
Do your best to knock him over, and
how easily he will dodge your blows.
But look out; the little fellow may
get mad after a While. If he does,
he will begin to scold, a sharp in
tense sound qnickly repeated/ And
the more you strike at him the closer
he will contrive to get to you, dart
ing and daring up nearer and nearer*
till, if you exasperate him too much,
lie may make a leap for your wind
pipe, quick as a wink.
The body of the brown weasel will
be found to measure about eight
inches in length. The legs are quite
short, the neck long, the ears large
and open, the eyes small but bright,
and set in the head nearer the nose
than the cars. In summer, the color
is brown along the back and white
under tne limbs- In winter, it is
white over every part of the body
and limbs, with the exception of the
tip of the tail, which is always black
for half or three-fourths of an inch.
Draw out the tail and one of the hind
legs straight; they will be found to
be of exactly the same length.
From what I have observed, I do
not think the weasel an animal that
ranges very much, not more than
the striped squirrel, at least. It has
its home or nest in piles of loose,
dry stones, ricks of wood and chips,
particularly in heaps of dry rubbish
near streams, brought by freshets
and lodged against stumps or in hol
lows, sometimes ill hollow trees and
prostrate limbs. It makes a very
cosy little nest for its young, of
which it sometimes produces as mam
as fifteen in a single season, —three
litters of five each. I never found
less than four in a nest; generally,
there are five. Circumstances may
restrict the number of litters to two.
or even one. Thref, however, seems
to be the usual number.
No bear or cougar ever defends its
whelps with one half the courage
shown bv this little creature when
ant- one comes upon its nest. I have
often been obliged to back hastily
off to avoid a bite on the leg, or a
smart chance of being throttled. A
person not acquainted with weasel
grit would laugli at thist but, really,
I had far rather take my chance in n
fair fight with a bear than with three
weasels, little as they are.
Some years ago, while fishing in
company with a boy friend i-long
the bank of a large wc acci- j
dentally stumbled on the burrows of
several weasels. The first we saw
of them, they were dodging and dart-!
ing about us, making their low, scold
ing noise. There were four of them,
but whether two pairs had their nest
in the same place or not, I cannot
state. We began to strike at them
with our fish-poles to drive them off;
but the more we struck the more
thej* wouldn't go away; till, the con-;
flict waxing hot, they would actual
ly jump up three or four feet against
our jackets in their attempts to get
to our throats. We were obliged to
run; and the resolute little warriors,
chased us some rods.
A neighbor also tells me, that go
ing along beside one of his "double
walls" one morning, he happened to
espy three weasels coming toward
him on the wall (returning to their
burrow from some nocturnal foray,
perhaps). He knew- their temper
and thinking to have some fun, ran
back to where the double wall nar
rowed into a "single wall" and as
they came along tried to stop them
with his goad-stick. He succeeded
in keeping them back for a number
of minutes. But erelong "they got
so mad," as he said and came at him
so hot, that he was glad to stand
back and let them pass.
And I have heard the story of a
little girl, who, in going to 6chool,
had to cross a pasture. One night
she failed to come home at the usual
time and after waiting awhile, her
mother started out to meet her.
Half-way across the pasture she came
upon her child—dead; gnawed and
8. P. Hamilton.
J'ubUstf-r
$f.7S A YEAR
lacerated in the most shocking man
ner, while about her swarmed more
than a score of weasels. l>o vou
suppose they had observed the child
passing day by day and deliberately
banded together to attack her?
Weasels live principally upon
mice; the red-backed mouse, tlie
hamster mouse and the common
house mouse—also the brown rat.
They w ill eat bird's-eggs and often
rob the nests of those building in
the highest trees. Not unfrequentl v
they surprise the birds themselves.
Unless pressed by hunger they rare-
It* eat the flesh of their victims, but
content themselves with the blood,
which they suck instantly upon kill
ing, and the brain, which they gnaw
through the skull to get.
The enemies of the weasel are
chiefly the hawk ami the owl, that
stoop and clutching them in their
talons squeeze the life out of them
without giving them an opportunity
of using their sharp teeth. Unless
seized iirmly, they will soon bring
down their captor by tearing and
biting into its vitals from under its
wing. Now and then one is snappid
up by some passing fox; Reynard
lays all tribes under contribution.
Occasionally, too, a raccoon may
pick otf one; which recalls to mind
a little rencontre I once saw between
a raccoon and a weasel.
It was a dark and cloudy da}* in
September. A raccoon would scarce
ly be traveling 011 a bright day. 1
had gone out into the woods to shoot
gray squirrels and was standing r.t
the root of a tall rock maple, look
ing up into the top after one that
was hiding there, when a great rust
ling ot the fallen leaves and a snap
ping of twigs caught my ear. It
seemed to be in the undergrowth
which skirted the stream below and
as 1 looked, a large raccoon burst
into sight, running almost directly
toward me. As he ran, he kept
pouncing and grappling at something
which I soon perceived to be a wea
sel.
A great beech-stub was standing
near. The weasel, dodging and doul>
UIAUC lUi lift; lITT ihl'i iTUiJI iilL*
to the stub, whipped into a hole out
of sight. 1 cautiously raised my gun
to secure tire raccoon, which, wholly
unconscious of my presence, was
clawing at the hole; but ere 1 could
raise the hammer tne weasel popped
its head out of another hole three or
four l'eet higher up. then dropped
upon tlie nape of the raccoon's neck.
1 heard its sharp teeth grit as with
a low snarl the raccoon darted back,
snapping in vain at his wily little
adversary that bit at tlie loots of his
skull. Their evolutions had placed
the trunk of another tree between u-.
I stepped out, when the raccoon
catching sight of me, <cuttb-d away
among the bushes, the weasel still
clinging to him. 1 went to the stub
and tearing away the punky wood
at the butt uncovered, as ] expected,
a nest of young weasels. But before
1 had fairly looked them over, a
slight rustle from behind warned me
to step aside. The brave little moth
er had returned unscathed, to her ti
ny family, ready to do battle again
in their defence.
In the spring, when changing from
white to brown, or late in the fail
when again turning white, the color
of the weasel is often very prettily
mottled; and a very apt way of
showing these changes is to stutl
three specimens—a white one, a
brown and a variegated. Ranged
side by side, they illustrate the sub
ject better than any description can.
Now and then a weasel will volun
tarily leave the woods and conic to
the outstanding barns after the mice.
Sometimes it will even enter the
farm-house. It is a wonderful mong
er, far more expert than a cat, it will
rid a house of rats and mice in an
incredibly short time—also of the
chickens, ducklings, pet canary, etc.
No chink or knot-hole seems too
small for it to penetrate and it will
go up a smoothly plastered w all ilke
a fly. It used to be a common thing
when a farm-house was overrun with
mice, to catch a weasel and turn hint
loose in the chambers. For the next
day or two there would lea dreamul
massacre of the vermin. Sometime*
where there were rats, it would be
impossible to sleep, for their dying
squeals.
if any of the INIVS desire to wit
ness some of these encounters, they
can catch a weasel and turn him in
to a tight, unused room; then en
trap mice and rats and turn them in.
The writer, with several other boys,
tried some experiments of this kind
a few years ago. We found that a
chipmunk or red squirrel was no
match for our weasel. With a large
rat there was sure to be a pretty
sharp fight. Rut our best match
was with a large gray squiuel. The
affray lasted some minutes. In eve
ry case, though, tbe weasel was the
victor and only yielded up is life
at last to a big Thomas-oat that was
let in to clear the arena < jur Young
Folk?.