VIII THE SKUNK, CALMLY CONSlDEJiED 22^ 



stand on his hind legs with his paws resting on 

 the edge of the box, and beg to be carried up 

 stairs. If I passed by without appearing to notice 

 him, he invariably became much enraged and chip- 

 pered and scolded away at a great rate, stamping, 

 meanwhile, most vehemently. . . . He was very 

 sprightly and frolicsome, and used to hop about 

 the floor and run from room to room in search of 

 something to play with. . . . During the evening 

 he occasionally assumed a cunning mood, and 

 would steal softly up to my chair, and standing 

 erect would claw at my pants once or twice, and 

 then scamper off as fast as his little legs could 

 carry him, evidently anxious to have me give 

 chase. If I refused to follow, he was soon back, 

 ready to try some new scheme to attract my 

 attention." 



The food of the skunks is wholly of animal ori- 

 gin, and I have never known or heard of one eat- 

 ing anything vegetable. The staple of their fare 

 in summer is insects of every sort, mainly beetles, 

 grasshoppers, and the like, for they do not seem 

 to care to unearth worms and grubs to any great 

 extent. Thoreau remarks (" Early Spring in Mas- 

 sachusetts," p. 105): "It has a remarkably long, 

 narrow, pointed head and [flesh-colored] snout, 

 which enable it to make those deep narrow holes 

 in the earth by which it probes for insects." This 

 is news. The snout is exceedingly pig-like — a 

 fact especially noticeable when a carcass has been 



