J«!T 7,1881. 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



449 



Staunton, Va., June, 1881. 

 Editor Forest and Stream : 



In response to the 'possum problem propounded by you, 

 " how to cook and bow to eat bini," I have to say that I 

 never was a 'possum hunter; but having all my life been in 

 Che South, where the darkey abounds, and his inseparable 

 companion, the 'possum, is to be found in great numbers, I 

 have seen that classic bird cooked and eaten ninny, many 

 times. Before entering into the more minute details, let me 

 say, that the man who calls a 'possum, opossum, displays hia 

 ignorance of the whole subject in the start, and bis views are 

 not entitled to ilucIi weight. 



Now, as to cooking him. The first thing to be done is, 

 what some lady in her recipe book on cooking rabbits pre- 

 scribes, viz : to catch him. Tbis will be no difficult matter, I 

 fancy, with a "yaller" dog, and a carcass, a persimmon 

 tree, or a ch cken roost near by. After being secured ho is 

 penned up in box, barrel, or coop for a week or ten days, 

 and fed as a pig, duck or turkey is usually fed before being 

 slaughtered, in order, as I he darkeys say, to "drive all de 

 wileness and de varmint tase out-en-'ini." 



This somewhat difficult, if not impossible, point being 

 achieved, he is then killed and dressed like a pig, hung out. 

 to freeze thoroughly lor several nights, and when ready "to be 

 cooked is stuffed with stale bread crumbs seasoned with any 

 pungent herb that can be had, or with onion accorc'ing lo the 

 taste of the consumer. But, talking about wine in connec- 

 tion with 'possum is simple sacrilege, and the idea of skv-iivi 

 a 'possum is simply absurd. Such a proposition would shock 

 the moral and gastronomic sensibilities of the most callous 

 darkey in the South. There is but one way to cook a 'pos- 

 sum, and that is to roast him, just as you do a turkey or pig. 

 A cooking stove is a good place to do it in, but the old-fash- 

 ioned " spit," and the plantation big iron oven is just as good, 

 and more frequently used than anything else, because the 

 darkeys can't luxuriate in a cooking stove. 



Now, as to how to eat him. This is a matter of taste alto- 

 gether, in the sense that ibe old woman who "kissed the cow" 

 may be said to have exercised this faculty. 



I have seen people eat hot 'possum, but I never saw the 

 same man do it twice. The man whose stomach cau stand 

 hot 'possum, even with Bourbon whisky to help him through, 

 and relish it, has a way of being pleased that ought to render 

 hima supremely happy mortal. Did you ever eat hot souse ? 

 Well! when you do that you will want some hot 'possum- 

 hot before ! 



Of course everybody has he rd the story of the darkey who 

 visited a friend late at night, and findiug Joshua fast asleep, 

 Ginger commenced prowling around the cabin in the uncer- 

 tain light of an expiring chunk, in search of something to 

 eat. Suddenly he came upon the remnants of acold 'possum 

 in the cupboard. Giuger fell to work upon it, and after 

 completely demolishing it, he placed the boneB on the hearth, 

 and greased the slumbering Joshua's fingers, n outh and face 

 thoroughly with the fat, and left. About dawn Josh woke 

 up, and bethought him of his dainty 'possum. Upon going 

 to the press he discovered that it was gone. He soon saw 

 his hands greasy and found his mouth in the same fix, and 

 concluded that he must have eaten the 'possum himself while 

 asleep. But still a feeling of uncertainty remained as lo 

 whether he had done so, and placing his hand on his stomach 

 he soliloquized thus : 



" Here de bones and de grease on my bands and face, and 

 nobody's here but me, so I must er eat him ; but one thing 

 is sarlin, dat dar 'possum do set lighter on my stomach and 

 gibs me de least satisfaction ob any 'possum I eber eat." 



Perhaps Joshua had been in the habit of eating his 'possum 

 hot, but if he did, ho's the only man, white or black, that 

 ever made a habit of it. Jack. 



Next comes a racy sketch from Arkansas. Its author is 

 by profession a lawyer, by occupation a planter ; and being 

 the grandson of Col. Davy Crockett— a relationship, he ex- 

 plains, purely accidental on his part — he is by nature and 

 education a lover of the rod and gun. He owns and shoots 

 witlrlhe rifle which was pieseuted to Col. Crockett by the 

 citizens of Philadelphia in 1834; and we know not how 

 many hundred deer and lesser game have fallen before it. 

 We have the promise of other stories from his pen— but now 

 to the 'possum hunt : 



Ckookktt's Bluff, Arkansas, June, 1881. 

 Editor Forest and Stream: 



Ah, me, how the name of 'possum carries me back to the 

 days of my boyhood. I forget the gouty foot, resting upon 

 a pillow as I write. I forget the "sable silvered" locks and 

 snow-white beard which the cool prairie breeze is caressing, 

 as fancy leads me back— away back— through the "shadow 

 and sheen " of two score years to the happy, care-free days of 

 my childhood; now in the sunlight of some pleasant memory 

 that lights my worn face with a smile; — anon in the shadow 

 of some long forgotten sorrow that dims my old eyes with 

 tears. 



It is a cold wintei evening and I am helping the negroes to 

 feed the stock, when "Ike" Bays "Mars Bob, we're gwine 

 'possum huntin' ttr-ntght; s'posc you ask your Ma couldn't 

 you go long wid us." 



Supper over, the family gather around the hearth before the 

 blazing hickory Are, my mother with her sewing, my father 

 with a book; the candles are "snuffed," (no lamps in those 

 days) and just as they are settling down to their evening's 

 occupation I hear a horn blow. The sound gives me courage 

 to say, "Mother, the 'boys' are going 'possum hunting to- 

 night; please let me go wi h them." 



"No," she says, " it is too cold and you might get hurt." 



I try to argue the question, but she grows more firm in her 

 refusal, when another " toot-toot-to-o-o-t" rouses my father 

 who, his heart stirred, perhaps, by some memory of his own 

 boyhood, says, " Let him go, Mother: old Ben and the boys 

 will take care of him." 



I am soon ready, and when I reach the big gates where the 

 darkeys await me I am greeted wnth a deafening chorus of 

 yells, barks, howls, horns and " Whoop I here comes Mars 

 Kobertl" 



A. brief discussion ensues as to the route we had best take., 

 some suggesting the creek bottom "whar dere's lots ob 

 grapes ;' ' oihers contending for " de ole ' Green field ' whar 

 de 'simmODS ' is jest breakin' de trees down." " Uncle Ben" 

 cuts the matter short by shouldering his ax and leading off 

 in the direction of the creek bottom. 



Reaching the woods we step a while, as Uncle Ben says, 

 "to gib de dogs a chance ;" and we soon hear them patter- 

 ing about in the dead leaves in search of 'possum or trail. 

 Meantime the young " niggers " are loudly discussing the 

 merits of their respective dogs, when old Ben, who is stand- 

 Dg in a patch of moonlight a little ahead, whirls 'round and 



yells, "Here, you young uns, stop dat fuss I Howdcdebbi] 

 is I gwine to hear de dogs.' Ike, if I hears jour mouf agin, 

 I'll stick your bed in a siuk hole and lef you dar— you hear 

 me, 1 " That settles us. 



A few minutes pass in silent expectancy, and the stillness 

 is broken by a lo v whimper from one of the dogs. 



"Dai's 'Keuius,'" whispers Ike, "I knows his toogue ; 

 'possum or polecat shore !" 



Now, there's a quick, sharp yelp in the direction of which 

 all the dogs break with a rush ; and ibe whole pack dash off 

 in full cry. A short run of perbaDB one hundred yards; 

 and then suddenly a'l is si!eut again." 



" Have they lost it ?" I ask — and for answer the dogs open 

 again with a "standing bark." 



" Dar, dey's treed 1" and away we go, belter skelter, now 

 tripped by a trailing vine, anon falling headlong over a rotten 

 log, nruising shins, scratching faces, tearing clotheB, whoop- 

 ing and yelling wo reach the dogs, which, encouraged by our 

 presence and yells, become frantic with excitement. 



The 'possum has taken refuge in the top of a stnali oati 

 sapling, up which a grape-vine bus climbed. Old Ben shakes 

 the tree and jerks the vine, but no 'possum falls. 



"Here, you, Silas, you clim' up de saplin' ani pull him 

 out, and min' you doan lef him drap 'mong de dogs !" 



Silas, aided by a boost, from Uncle Ben, shins up the sap- 

 ling and in a moment sings out, " Whoop, I got him, but his 

 tnil done rapped roun' dis lim so tight dat I can't loose him. 

 Hello I Book out I Dar he comes!" and the 'possum comes 

 tumbling down into the very jaws of the eager dogs, and the 

 whole pack pile right on him; but Ben, with a few hearty 

 "licks" with the ax helve and vigorous kicks with his No. 11 

 brogans now makes an opening"through which he' reaches 

 down and, grasping the 'possum by the tail, lifts it high 

 above his head to keep the dogs from regaining possession 

 of it. 



The dogs are kicked and cuffed into something like quiet, 

 Silas slides down the sapling, the 'possum, which all this 

 time has been "playing dead," is dropped into a sack; a 

 young darkey throws it across his shoulder; Ben picks up his 

 ax ; and after taking a look at the "seben stars, to see what 

 time it is," aw,iy we go in search of more game. 



About midnight, with three or four more 'possums, we turn 

 our faces homeward, old Ben trudging along in front, aud 

 singing : 



" The soulrrel lias a bushy tall 

 Stumpy prows de har ; 

 De ole conn's trill am ringed alt round 

 De 'possum's tall am bar." 



The dogs seem to know that the hunt is over ; and with 

 drooping heady slouch along at heel. Now aud then a young 

 dog sees a rabbit playing in the moonlight and with a yelp or 

 two dashes after it but soon returns. The youngsters — 

 white and black— now that the excitement is over, grow 

 sleepy and silent as we drag our tired feet, along ; and are 

 glad enough when the "big house" and ibe "nigger cabins" 

 are sighted in the moonlight. 



Old Ben empties the sack on the frozen ground ; but the 

 'possums make no effort to escape — they are still "'possum- 

 inj" dead. There is but one correct, mode of killing a " 'pos- 

 sum" and that's the "Ole Furginny" style. So Ben gets a 

 light rail, places a 'possum on its belly -m the ground, lays 

 the rail across its neck close to the head, makes a young dar- 

 key stand on each end of it, then taking position in front of 

 the 'possom catches him by the tail, puts his left foot on the 

 rail — a quick jerk — "tchick" — its neck is broken. A long- 

 bladed knife is plunged into the "sticking place" and pushed 

 home to the heart and it is then hung up t ) bleed. 



Next morning a tub is half-filled with hot water (not too 

 hot) into which is dropped the 'possum and held by the tail, 

 until the hair will slip ; then taken out, laid upon a plank or 

 board, and the hair or wool pulled off with the fingers. It is 

 q c ly done and the skin ia as soft, saioolh and white as a 

 ImOjV. 



In those days we knew nothing of conking stoves— they 

 had not been introduced in the South; and so the 'possum was 

 let to freeze two or three nights, then placed in a five-gallon 

 kettle of water, into which was thrown two pods of red pep- 

 per. After boiling one hour in the pepper water, that was 

 poured out and the kettle refilled with plain water. After 

 boiling in this for one hour it was taken out, placed in a large 

 oven, sweet potatoes cut in half put around it, black pepper, 

 salt and a pinch or two of sage sprinkled over it, a pint of 

 water poured in, tho lid put on ; and with a slow fire baked 

 until done. Eat all you can at dinner while it is warm, and 

 if by chance there be a remainder over, eat it cold for eup- 

 por, and swear by Diana, the chaste, that hot or cold there is 

 nothing more toothsome than " baked 'possum." — Bob H. C, 



Does the 'possum "play dead?" Or is his simulation of 

 death, like that of the humming bird, the effect of fright, 

 and something over which he has no control ? We believe 

 that there is good authority for this theory. At any rate, a 

 'possum in this helpless condition, whether cunningly sham- 

 ming dead or not, is a more desirable beast to meddle with 

 than a wide-awake one up a tree, as the following story from 

 the ever-entertaining pen of St. Clair goeB to prove: 



LiWTONVirxB, Ga., June, 1881. 

 Editor Forest and Stream : 



Many long years agone, when this writer was a gay and 

 festive lad, delighting in all kinds of sport by land and water, 

 it was once his good fortune to witness the actual cooking of 

 a 'possum. He had often eaten them, cooked to a turn and 

 richly brown in all their glory ; but it was reserved for one 

 golden night for him to know how they are cooked. 



Mrs. Class says: "First catch your hare," then, in a Sairy 

 Ganipian spirit, she tells you how to cook him. Wishing to 

 avoid the paih of this estimable lady, I'll tell how our 'pos- 

 sum was caught, and then tell the manner of cooking. 



"Hole back dar, you little niggers, an' doan run sofas' 

 arter dat 'possum," was the warning cry of Uncle LevcB, 

 the best coon hunter in Kentucky, one still, frosty, moon- 

 light night, as " Ole Bose" waB* heard barking furiously 

 about a mile away. The powers that ruled in the big house 

 had granted me leave to go on a 'possum hunt, and" I, too, 

 with a mob of little darkeys, Uncle Leven panting at our 

 heels, Hew rather than ran to the spot where Bose was giv- 

 ing loud-tongued evidence that he had a 'possum treed. Up 

 in a scrubby hickory covered with a thick matting of grape- 

 vines we could see glistening in the moonlight the white fur 

 of an enormous opossum. He had been feeding on grapes, 

 of which these animals are very fond. 



Jake, the impulsive, had already commenced climbing the 

 tree to shake the animal down, when he was stopped by the 

 au'horitative voice of Uncle Leven : " Doan shake dat 'pos- 

 sum, Bose '11 bruise urn ; here, take dis bag and put una in." 



Dubiously did Jake venture up to the old patriarch 'pos- 



sum, whose low growling convinced him that he meant mis- 

 chief. Getting above the animal, he let the. bag down on his 

 foot until the he id of his game was parallel with the bag. 

 He was rewarded with a sudden bite through his tow linen 

 pants, deep into the flesh. Loud applause from the pit, in- 

 termingled with yells from the principal a~tor. Presently 

 down came Jake, headforemost, with the 'possum still cling- 

 ing to him, and in an instant Ole Bose, in his eagerness to 

 get at his game, fastened his teeth in the seat of Jake's tow 

 linen pants. 



Uncle Leven now took part in the fray, and seizing tha 

 game in his arms, soon had him bagged Jake examined his 

 wounds, anteriorly and posteriorly, and was consoled by 

 bemg promised an extra share of the 'possum next night. 



A merry party were we — five "niggers " all my own ago 

 aud myself — who had gathered at Uncle Laven'B cabin the 

 next night afer the hunt to eat 'possum. With the solemn 

 impoitance of a Druid priest about to perform some mysteri- 

 ous rite, Uncle Leven first laid the 'possum tenderly in a 

 large oven. He then covered him with cold water. Around 

 him, and over him, and about him he packed sweet potatoes 

 until not another one could be put into that oven. He then 

 put fire under the oven until all the water was boiled out, 

 then putting fire on the lid he went forth to bake him. For 

 two mortal hours, indeed, what time all the Utile darkeys 

 slep^, and this writer was only kept awake by the folk lore 

 of 1 nele Leven, did that 'possum cook. 



At length the important announcement was made that the 

 supper was done. What a fragrant smell rose up to the 

 rafters of the old cabin, and how brown and glorious lay the 

 "boss" 'possum of "Ole Kaintuck!" Eat him? Ah : 

 What good eating a baked 'possum is no one can kuow who 

 has never lasted one. So large and fat that Bose came in 

 for his share. Fheu ! jam satis ( 



If you have not plenty of sweet potatces, then use Irish. 



Baked 'possum is superb ; in any other way he ia not bo 

 good, for there is an abundance of oil in his composition. 



Hoping that I have made the approved Southern method 

 of cooking 'possum — when caught — perfectly clear to the 

 minds of the innumerable readers of Fohest aud Stream, 

 whom I greet right fraternally, I am, as ever, 



St. Clads. 

 ' * kentucklan " w kites feelingly. 



Mill Springs, Ky., June, 1881. 

 Fditor Forest and Stream: 



While quizzing a class of medical students a facetious pro- 

 fessor called on a member for the proper process of prepar- 

 ing chicken broth, which was promptly detailed, when the 

 professor, with mock gravity, inquired, "Would it sot be ex- 

 pedient, Mr. Smith, to first procure a chicken ?" 



Presuming the "possum procured ; dress it as you would a 

 pig. We discard the head. 



After it is dressed "Aunt Dinah " thinks an opossum un- 

 fit for the cook-stove till it has lain out on the smoke-house 

 or back porch roof at least one frosty night. When the ani- 

 mal beat has been removed salt the 'possum as other fresh 

 meats are treated. Any cook knows the time that fresh 

 meats should "talk salt" before they are cooked. 



When ready to cook wash thoroughly ; place in a vessel ; 

 cover with cold water; throw in a small pod of redpeper; 

 boil vigorously, say an hour ; pour off the liquor ; cover with 

 fresh boiliDg water, and boil till tender, when it is ready for 

 the bake-pan. Sprinkle with flour and black pepper, pour in- 

 to the pan enough, of the liquor from which it has just been 

 removed with which to baste it frequently. 



When sufficiently browned serve hot, but not floating in 

 gravy, as is too often the manner of bringing on the table a 

 roast which would defy the digestive superiorities of a Dig- 

 ger Indian's stomach, and severely tax the assimilative ap : 

 paratus of an ostrich. Garnish with relishes to tickle tastes. 



Sweet potatoes are an almost indispensable Southern ac- 

 companiment. Pared and sliced they are basted and baked 

 with 'possum. 



In ante-bellum times a fresh oyster was but a heard-of lux- 

 ury to us boys for whom the mail carrier's horn sounded but 

 thrice a week, but 'possum, pig fries and burgoo were as ap- 

 petizing winter night-mare propagators as the choicest inven- 

 tions of the most versatile Ictbyophagoua, 



The distinctive effluvium peculiar to many popular meats 

 preserved in cooking is by no means the relish that is a 

 woodcock's trail, aud in preparing a 'possum for the table the 

 prime desielcratum of an experienced cook is to dispense with 

 the 'possum odor and superfluous fat. 



Did you never eat of a well served 'possum ? If not come 

 out this fall and, Deo volente, you'll confess that there's an 

 uufillable hiatus in your gastronomic enjoyments from so late 

 an introduction to a Southern delicacy. The 'possum is not 

 ripe till persimmons begin to fall. He has an especial weak- 

 ness for that fruit, and the location of all th« bearing trees 

 are known to the 'possum hunter, be assured. 



My wife is skilled in cooking game after our approved 

 styles, and except served by her teacher and self I rarely ate 

 of 'possum that wasn't murdered in the pot, and would dis- 

 gust a semi-civilized stomach. 



" Kentuckians generally are plain cooks and little given to 

 relishes. I never saw olive oil on a farmer's table, unless 

 there for effect, not for use. 



A fat 'possum is almost deliquescent, and served floating in 

 its gravy could be digested by a lard oil manufacturer only 

 with aid of a handful of gravel. Kentt;ck:ia.n. 



SENATOK GAELAND IS " ON THE FENCE." 



Little Rook, Arkansas, June, 1881. 

 Editor Forest and Strea?n : 



Yours of 9th instant relative to the cooking and eating of 

 a 'possum is received, and the subject has been as fully con- 

 sidered by me as its gravity and importance require, bearing 

 in mind the thermometer is at 98 degrees in the shade and 

 still " a coming." 



I am not much on the cooking of a 'possum, or any other 

 animal as for that ; but the bent of my mind is that if you 

 would boil the 'possum in salt and red-pepper water until he 

 is quite tender, and then brown him well in an old-fashioned 

 oven, or skillet, wherein around his body a goodly number 

 of potatoes are baked and browned, you would have a dish 

 unrivalled and more than oriental, and a person who could 

 not relish it, whether he took the 'possum hot or cold, would 

 have no celestial fire in his soul, nor music either. 

 . Whether the 'possum should be eaten hot or cold is a ques- 

 tion that has bothered me for many years, and even now I 

 am not prepared to say directly how it is.' Bather than 

 miss entirely, I would try to eat him in either way I could 

 find him, and really I am of opinion that he is better hot or 

 cold, according to the state he is in when I last partake of 

 htm. 



1 was oueo chosen by two professed artists in making mint- 

 juleps to settle the question which excelled. I approached 



