i66 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



stand. She has n't a particle of play in her any- 

 how; but Pups cannot get that through his 

 head. He runs rapidly round her, drops flat on 

 all fours, swings his tail, cocks his ears, looks 

 appealingly and barks a few little cackle-barks, 

 as nearly hen-like as he can make them, then 

 dashes off and whirls back — while the hen picks 

 up another bug. She never sees Pups. The old 

 white coon cat is better; but she is usually up 

 the miff-tree. Pups steps on her, knocks her 

 over, or otherwise offends, especially when he 

 tags her out into the fields and spoils her hunt- 

 ing. Won't the Society for the Prevention of 

 Cruelty to Animals send out some child or 

 puppy to play with Pups of a Saturday *? — lest 

 Pups follow his predecessor Rex to an early 

 grave from gout, induced by all food and no 

 play. 



I doubt if among the lower animals play 

 holds any such prominent place as with the dog 

 and the keen-witted, intelligent otter. To catch 

 any of them at play is a rare experience, and to 

 have a chance to play with them is infinitely 

 rarer. The other day I was told by a friend of a 

 fox on one of the golf-links of Boston that tried 



