CIRCUIT OF THE SUMMER HILLS 



a woodchuck once when I was a boy, but never have 

 felt inclined to repeat the experiment. If one were 

 born in the woods and lived in the woods, maybe 

 he could, relish a woodchuck. Talk about being 

 autocthonous, and savoring of the soil — try a 

 woodchuck! The feeding habits of this animal are 

 as cleanly as those of a sheep or a cow; clover, 

 plantain, peas, beans, cucumbers, cabbages, apples 

 — all sweet and succulent things — go to the mak- 

 ing of his flabby body; yet he spends so much of his 

 time in pickle in the ground that his flesh is rank 

 with the earth flavor. He is not lean like a rabbit 

 or a squirrel, nor so firm of muscle as a 'coon or a 

 'possum; he is little more than a skin filled with 

 viscera. He is busy all summer storing up fat in his 

 loose pouch of a body for fuel during his long winter 

 sleep. This sleep appears to begin in late September, 

 or after the first white frost. This year I saw my last 

 specimen on the 28th of the month as he was run- 

 ning in great haste to his hole. Evidently he does 

 not like the pinch of the cold. He is a fair-weather 

 animal and is the epicure of the meadows and pas- 

 tures. While the apples are still mellow on the 

 ground, while the red thorn is still dropping its 

 fruit, and the aftermath is still fresh in the meadows, 

 my woodchucks turn their backs upon the world and 

 retreat to their underground chambers for their six 

 months' slumber. I know of no other hibernating 

 animal that retires from the light of day so early in 

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