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A RACOON HUNT IN KENTUCKY. 



The Racoon, which is a cunning and crafty animal, is found in all 

 our woods, so that its name is familiar to every child in the Union. The 

 propensity which it evinces to capture all kinds of birds accessible to it 

 in its nightly prowlings, for the purpose of feasting on their flesh, induces 

 me to endeavour to afford you some idea of the pleasure which our west- 

 ern hunters feel in procuring it. With your leave, then, Reader, I will 

 take you to a '• Coon Hunt." 



A few hours ago the sun went down far beyond the " far west." The 

 woodland choristers have disappeared, the matron has cradled her babe, 

 and betaken herself to the spinning-wheel ; the woodsman, his sons, and 

 " the stranger" are chatting before a blazing fire, making wise reflections 

 on past events, and anticipating those that are to come. Autumn, sal- 

 low and sad, prepares to bow her head to the keen blast of approaching 

 winter ; the com, though still on its stalk, has lost its blades ; the wood 

 pile is as large as the woodsman's cabin ; the nights have become chill, 

 and each new mom has effected a gradual change in the dews, which now 

 crust the withered herbage with a coat of glittering white. The sky is 

 still cloudless; a thousand twinkling stars reflect their light from the 

 tranquil waters ; all is silent and calm in the forest, save the nightly 

 prowlers that roam in its recesses. In the cheerful cabin all is happiness ; 

 its inmates generously strive to contribute to the comfort of the stranger 

 who has chanced to visit them ; and, as racoons are abundant in the 

 neighbourhood, they propose a hunt. The offer is gladly accepted. The 

 industrious woman leaves her wheel, for she has listened to her husband's 

 talk ; now she approaches the fire, takes up the board shovel, stirs the 

 embers, produces a basket fiUed with sweet potatoes, arranges its contents 

 side by side in front of the hearth, and covers them with hot ashes and 

 glowing coals. All this she does, because she " guesses" that hungry sto- 

 machs will be calling for food when the sport is over. Ah ! Reader, 

 what " homely joys" there are in such scenes, and how you would enjoy 

 them ! The rich may produce a better, or a more sumptuous meal ; but 

 his feelings can never be like those of the poor woodsman. Poor I ought 

 not to call him, for nature and industry bountifully supply all his wants ; 



