WHAT I KNOW ABOUT SKUNKS 



141 



half dozen such would not do a fair day's 

 work of one man, yet the farmer felt that lie 

 .must have a big gang at haying time, he must 

 draft into the service every one able to carry 

 a rake or a fork, even if he did little with it. 

 Those familiar with the hayliclds of fifty 

 years ago will see that the pictures are not 

 true of the fields of the present day, but 

 are literally true of the hayfield as the boy 

 rememhers it when he heard the whip-poor- 

 will, and dropped into the oblivion of sleep. 



* * * * 



The Town Farm at Stamford, Con- 

 necticut, is under the excellent man- 

 agement of Mr. George W. Lockwood. 

 We gratefully acknowledge many fa- 

 vors from him and Airs. Lockwood in 

 portraying "The Epoch Making Age 

 ,of Haying." 



What I Know about Skunks. 



Like the old-time parson I can di- 

 vide my subject into two parts each 

 with three divisions, and the text is : 

 ■"A Series of Six Surprises with 

 Skunks." Three of the surprises are in 

 the division of "Boyhood Days" and 

 three in "Some Recent Experiences." 



I shall never forget my first experi- 

 ence. I had set a steel trap in the en- 

 trance to a woodchuck's burrow over 

 ■in "the Usher lot" near the old home- 

 stead. I had become expert in catch- 

 ing woodchucks in the steel trap and 

 perhaps that fact had engendered over- 

 confidence. At any rate I felt sure that, 

 ,as before, all I needed to do was to set 

 the trap and to go the next day and 

 whack a woodchuck on the head. With 

 delightful anticipations of another con- 

 quest, and club in hand, I hurriedly ap- 

 proached the entrance to the burrow 

 on the morning of the second day. I 

 raised the club, seized the chain and 

 gave it a pull to bring the woodchuck 

 into full view. Whish-h-h ! Something 

 'had happened and % that whish-h-h 

 sound was just over my shoulder by 

 -my right ear, but its chief effect was 

 upon my nose though it really did not 

 "hit it, for which to this day I am de- 

 voutly grateful. The dog came to the 

 rescue but I have forgotten what hap- 

 pened to the skunk. My chief and 

 most vivid recollection is the sickness 

 of the dog and myself. 



In the second surprise Daisy and I 

 -were again partners. Some one told 

 •me that it is easy to dig a woodchuck 

 out of his burrow in winter. All that 

 is needed is a pickaxe and shovel to 

 t>reak through the frozen ground and 



to dig to the burrow in a series of 

 holes. The dog will tell you which 

 way the burrow runs after each hole 

 is made and then the thing is to dig an- 

 other hole and so continue until the hi- 

 bernating mass of fur and fat is found. 

 I dug a hole; the dog inspected; 1 took 

 the cue and dug another. It was get- 

 ting to be hard work because the frost 

 was about a foot deep, and required 

 considerable diligent swinging of the 

 pickaxe. But then I consoled myself 

 that the fun of finding a fat woodchuck 

 in winter and catching him fast asleep 

 would be worth all the trouble. At the 

 sixth hole the dog's enthusiasm began 

 to increase. I was encouraged. I de- 

 cided that one more hole would finish. 

 It did. The dog now in an eagerness 

 amounting to craziness plunged into that 

 hole and pulled out not a woodchuck 

 but a skunk. Again the dog and I were 

 on the sick list. She recovered in an hour. 

 I have not yet fully recovered. The 

 memory is still unpleasant. I wonder 

 if it is true that burying a coat will 

 take out the smell of skunk. Some- 

 time when I go back to the old home- 

 stead I think I can find the exact spot 

 in the garden and dig it up and see, 

 but after all perhaps the coat has 

 changed since then, though memory 

 makes it very realistic. That coat is 

 distinct from all others I ever had. 



My third experience was with an un- 

 countable number of specimens. Mem- 

 ory is tricky, but it places the figures 

 all the way from sixty to ninety. Per- 

 haps this variation is due to a discrep- 

 ancy in the stories of Dutch W T illie, 

 Uncle Gib and The Dane of the old 

 farm. I mention The Dane last but 

 really he should lead off the line. We 

 were to move the old barn. The jack- 

 screws had been under it for over a 

 day and the rollers were almost in po- 

 sition. Early in the morning The Dane 

 arrived in the kitchen with a bag filled 

 with a mysterious something. He had 

 not "been over" very long, and only a 

 few weeks before arrived at Castle 

 Garden. His knowledge of the Eng- 

 lish language was limited. In explain- 

 ing to my grandmother what he had 

 found under the barn, he resorted to ob- 

 ject teaching, in connection with one 

 English word constantly repeated as he 

 poured out the contents of that bag 

 by the kitchen stove: "Kitty, kitty, 

 kitty, kitty." 



