THE EARTH'S BOUNTY 



for the first young pheasants we ever reared 

 was such a revoltingly nasty proceeding that, 

 if the natural supply is scant, or difficult to 

 find, the game babies, one and all, have to put 

 up with home-manufactured substitutes. 



Mr. Fred's youngest boy announced, when 

 quite little, that he was going to be a 

 " buggist " when he grew big; and, as he 

 really did like hunting bugs and caterpillars, 

 he entered into an agreement to collect plant 

 insects and sell them to me for two cents a 

 pint. It was truly surprising the number and 

 variety of goods the " buggist " could collect, 

 by means of a long cheese-cloth bag and a 

 whisk broom. The bill, which was presented 

 every Saturday evening during the season, 

 often amounted to twenty-five cents. After 

 bringing the catch to some of us grown folks 

 to estimate the quantity, the " buggist " went 

 the rounds of the little cannibals' inclosures, 

 liberating a few of the dainties amongst each 

 clutch. According to his report, the minute 

 creatures collected from the wild blackberry 



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