C2 SPOKT IN NORTH AMERICA. 



can I pass over, without lionourable mention, a 

 stew of raccoon, wliicli Old Tom (an excellent cook) 

 had set to work to prepare. My friends applauded 

 it loudly, and, out of sheer politeness, I felt myself 

 bound to take a mouthful of the raccoon's back. It 

 required a strong effort to withhold myself from 

 rejecting the morsel ; but I can affirm, with all 

 humility, that a slice of beef is far preferable to a 

 fillet of raccoon ; and that I had rather see the crea- 

 ture perched upon a branch, than served up upon a 

 carving- dish. 



Next day, Tom combined pleasure with dut}-, by 

 skinning all the raccoons ; and as he proceeded with 

 his operations, I learnt from his lips the following 

 account of these creatm'es : — " Yes, massa ; the 

 'coon is as cunning as a monkey, and he's easily 

 tamed. I reared one about three years ago, and he 

 played with me like a little dog. I had to shut the 

 door of the poultry yard very close, for fear the 

 little rascal stole my eggs ; for, sa, see you, it was 

 the instinct of the animal to steal the eggs of the 

 quails, the partridges, and every kind of bird. No 

 critter knows better how to find the trees on which 

 the nests are than this. One time, when my 'coon 

 had left home, I found him in a big poplar, which 

 was there at the bottom of the meadoAv. The 

 rascal, by his claws, was dragging out, one by one, 

 a family of red-breasts out of the hole in a tree, 

 and was tearing them to pieces, whilst the poor 



