OUTDOORS 



The woodchuck is long, large, heavy, and 

 hairy. He is neither hog, dog, nor rabbit, yet 

 having some characteristics of each. A large 

 one will measure nearly two feet in length, 

 with brownish and grayish tints on his upper 

 fur, and brown and red coloring on his belly. 

 He will eat gormandizingly like a hog, he will 

 fight viciously like a dog, and he burrows like 

 a rabbit in the hill-sides of the northern coun- 

 ties of the state. He lives almost entirely on 

 vegetables, but I have heard farmers accuse 

 him of carrying away young chickens when 

 the vegetable supply ran short. 



Fortunately for him, he hibernates in the 

 winter, and when the jay and crow are flying 

 about for something to eat, and the rabbit 

 and ruffed grouse are picking up a precarious 

 living from the drifted woodland ways, the 

 woodchuck is comfortably asleep in his warm 

 burrow. He is curled up in there like a 

 bear, and not till spring will he come out to 

 forage for an existence, save on the historical 

 2d of February, when he emerges to decide 

 the momentous question of what the weather 

 will be for the next six weeks. 



In the late summer days and early fall the 

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