THE SKUNK 



short-spaced alternate tracks, where he 

 has sallied out for a change from the 

 subterranean darkness of his burrow, or 

 from his as rayless borrowed quarters 

 beneath the barn, to the starlight or pale 

 gloom of midnight winter landscape. 



More often are you made aware of his 

 continued survival by another sense than 

 sight, when his far-reaching odor comes 

 down the vernal breeze or waft of sum- 

 mer air, rankly overbearing all the fra- 

 grance of springing verdure, or perfume 

 of flowers and new-mown hay, and you 

 well know who has somewhere and some- 

 how been forced to take most offensively 

 the defensive. 



It may be said of him that his ac- 

 tions speak louder than his words. Yet 

 the voiceless creature sometimes makes 

 known his presence by sound, and 

 frightens the belated farm boy, whom 

 he curiously follows with a mysterious, 

 hollow beating of his feet upon the 

 ground. 



Patches of neatly inverted turf in 



a grub-infested pasture tell those who 



know his ways that the skunk has been 



doing the farmer good service here, and 



'55 



