EPISODES 



503 



ived, and the trees 

 t the Opossum is 

 ed by hunger. It 

 •leased to see the 

 repast. Gradually 



the poke-berry anu the nettle shoot up, and on their ten- 

 der and juicy stems it gladly feeds. The matin calls of 

 the Wild Turkey Cock delight the ear of the cunning 

 creature, for it well knows that it will soon hear the 

 female and trace her to her nest, when it will suck the 

 eggs with delight. Travelling through the woods, per- 

 haps on the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, it 

 hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it remembers 

 the savory food on which it regaled itself last summer in 

 the neighboring farm-yard. With great care, however, it 

 advances, and at last conceals itself in the very hen-house. 

 Honest farmer ! why did you kill so many Crows last 

 winter? ay and Ravens too.? Well, you have had your 

 own way of it; but now hie to the village and procure a 

 store of ammunition, clean your rusty gun, set your traps, 

 and teach your lazy curs to watch the Opossum. There 

 it comes. The sun is scarcely down, but the appetite of 

 the prowler is keen ; hear the screams of one of your best 

 chickens that has been seized by him ! The cunning 

 beast is off with it, and nothing can now be done, unless 

 you stand there to watch the Fox or the Owl, now exulting 

 in the thought that you have killed their enemy and your 

 own friend, the poor Crow. That precious hen under 

 which you last week placed a dozen eggs or so is now 

 deprived of them. Th 3 Opossum, notwithstanding her 

 angry outcries and rufflings of feathers, has removed them 

 one by one, and now look at the poor bird as she moves 

 across your yard ; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for 

 she scratches here and there, calling to her chickens all 

 the while. All this comes from your shooting Crows. 

 Had you been more merciful or more prudent, the Opos- 

 sum might have been kept within the woods, where it 

 would have been satisfied with a Squirrel, a young Hare, 

 the eggs of a Turkey, or the grapes that so profusely 

 adorn the boughs of our forest trees. But I talk to you 

 in vain. 



