POXES AND OTHER .NEIGHBORS 



OUR game warden was in reminiscent mood. 

 It was Sunday, nobody had reported any set 

 lines requiring a trip to a distant pond and a 

 search for the offending line and the culprits; the 

 shooting season had not opened. He could sit on 

 the porch in front of his house, with its treasures 

 of stuffed horned owls, pheasants of every breed, 

 partridges, woodcock, deer horns and heads, even 

 the shed antlers of a Berkshire moose (there are 

 now at least thirteen moose living wild in the woods 

 of Berkshire County, Massachusetts, and there are 

 two elk, so called, or Wapiti deer — all, of course, 

 escaped from the old William C. Whitney preserve 

 on October Mountain), and talk at his ease. 



" There are more foxes in western Massachusetts 

 to-day than there have been in many, many years," 

 he said. " There isn't the shadow of a doubt but 

 they are on the increase. They are not hunted 

 nearly so much as they used to be, and while they 

 are trapped, probably, a bit more, they are such 

 crafty creatures that it doesn't serve to diminish 

 their numbers. Did you ever have a fox laugh at 

 you?" 



We confessed that we had never enjoyed that 

 experience. 



" Well, I have," said he. " It was a Long Island 

 fox, years ago. My dad and I were hunting him, 



