494 THE OPOSSUM. 
direction to go, for the object of its pursuit has either taken a considerable leap, or has 
cut backwards before the Opossum entered its track. It raises itself up, stands for a 
while on its hind-feet, looks around, snuffs the air again, and then proceeds; but now, 
at the foot of a noble tree, it comes to a full stand. It walks round the base of the large 
trunk, over the snow-covered roots, and among them finds an aperture, which it at 
once enters. 
Several minutes elapse, when it reappears, dragging along a squirrel already deprived 
of life, with which in its mouth it begins to ascend the tree. Slowly it climbs. The first 
fork does not seem to suit it, for perhaps it thinks it might there be too openly exposed 
to the view of some wily foe, and so it proceeds, until it gains a cluster of branches, 
intertwined with grape-vines, and there composing itself, it twists its tail round one of 
the twigs, and with its sharp teeth demolishes the unlucky squirrel, which it holds all the 
while with its fore-paws. 
The pleasant days of spring have arrived, and the trees vigorously shoot forth their 
leaves ; but the Opossum is almost bare, and seems nearly exhausted by hunger. It 
visits the margin of creeks, and is pleased to see the young frogs, which afford it a 
tolerable repast. Gradually the poke-berry and the nettle shoot up, and on their tender 
and juicy stems it gladly feeds. The matin calls of the wild turkey-cock delight the ear 
of the cunning creature, for it well knows that it will soon hear the female, and trace her 
to her nest, when it will suck the eggs with delight. 
Travelling through the woods, perhaps on the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, 
it hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it remembers the savoury food on which it 
regaled itself last summer in the neighbouring farmyard. With great care, however, it 
advances, and at last conceals itself in the very henhouse. 
Honest farmer! why did you kill so many crows last winter? aye, and ravens too? 
Well, you have had your own way of it ; but now, hie to the village and procure a store 
of ammunition, clean your rusty gun, set your traps, and teach your lazy curs to watch the 
Opossum. There it comes! The sun is scarcely down, but the appetite of the prowler 
is here; hear the screams of one of your best chickens that has been seized by him! 
The cunning beast is off with it, and nothing now can be done, unless you stand there 
to watch the fox or the owl, now exulting on the thought that you have killed their 
enemy and your own friend, the poor crow. That precious hen under which you last 
week placed a dozen eggs or so, is now deprived of them. The Opossum, notwithstanding 
her angry outeries and ruffled feathers, has consumed them one by one ; and now, look at 
the poor bird as she moves across your yard; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for 
she scratches here and there, calling to her chickens all the while. 
All this comes from your shooting crows. Had you been more merciful or more 
prudent, the Opossum might have been kept within the woods, where it would have been 
satisfied with a squirrel, a young hare, the eggs of a turkey, or the grapes that so profusely 
adorn the boughs of our forest trees. But I talk to you in vain. 
But suppose the farmer has surprised an Opossum in the act of killing one of his best 
fowls. His angry feelings urge him to kick the poor beast, which, conscious of its 
inability to resist, rolls off like a ball. The more the farmer rages, the more reluctant 1s 
the animal to manifest resentment ; at last there it lies, not dead but exhausted, its jaws 
open, its tongue extended, its eyes dimmed; and there it would lie until the bottle-fly 
should come to deposit its eggs, did not its tormentor walk off. ‘Surely, says he to him- 
self, ‘the beast must be dead’ But no, reader, it is only ‘’possuming,’ and no sooner has his 
enemy withdrawn than it gradually gets on its legs, and once more makes for the woods.” 
Besides the varied animal diet in which the Opossum indulges, it also eats vegetable 
substances, committing as much havoc among plantations and fruit-trees as among rabbits 
and poultry. It is very fond of maize, procuring the coveted food by climbing the tall 
stems, or by biting them across and breaking them down. It also eats acorns, beech-nuts, 
chestnuts, and wild berries, while its fondness for the fruit of the “persimmon” tree is 
almost proverbial. While feeding on those fruits it has been seen hanging by its tail, or 
its hinder paws, gathering the “persimmons” with its fore-paws, and eating them while 
