VII 
A WOODLAND CODGER 
THE porcupine is one of the queerest, and by 
no means the prettiest, of our sylvan friends. 
His broad, lumpish body, twice the bigness of a 
woodchuck, is modelled upon the shape of an 
egg; the nose is blunt, the legs are short, and one 
wonders how this Falstaff of the woods can 
scramble over the rocks and up and down trees 
as well as he does. But for something to laugh 
at, get the queer little codger to sit up on his hams, 
with his tail planted behind, like one foot of a 
tripod. j 
He seems truly a witless, slow, unsociable beast, 
working at night for the most part, more from 
churlishness than for any practical reason, minding 
his own business, and insisting that his neighbors 
attend strictly to theirs. He may even be quarrel- 
some when interfered with, and Shakespeare hit it, 
as usual, when he characterized the porcupine as 
“fretful.” He will never take the trouble to be 
aggressive; but he knows he is well prepared, 
and resists an enemy with such vigor that he is 
rarely overcome. He is much better armed than 
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