284 



RECREATION. 



know where they can buy a few birds to 

 take home. 



The most important thing in quail shoot- 

 ing is a good dog. They are few. Do not 

 look for pedigree. Buy a dog that you 

 have seen work in .the field. The best 

 dog I e^er saw, and I own 3 to-day, is a 

 black setter, handsome as a picture, and 

 the result of crosses between English, Gor- 

 don and Llewellyn setters. Almost any 

 kind of a modern gun will kill quails, but 

 get one not bored to shoot too closely, as 

 most of the shots are made at short range. 

 If you use a choke bore, holding close on 

 the bird, as you have to do in order to 

 kill, often your bird will be worthless. 



One can nearly always make the best 

 bag alone, for he does not have to wait for 

 the other man to have the first and best 

 chance. Then again, when alone, there is 

 no danger of filling a friend with shot 

 while he is standing behind some shrub. 



I have always found warm, lowering days 

 best for quails. Look for them early in 

 the morning and about one hour before 

 sunset, on their feeding grounds. I have 

 killed more quails between sunset and dark 

 than at any other time of day. 



The quail's favorite feeding ground is an 

 old stubble field, grown up with bitter- 

 weeds, which furnish abundant seed for 

 food. A quail killed in the middle of the 

 day rarely if ever has any food in his crop. 

 They eat sparingly in the morning, but 

 when killed after supper their crops will 

 be found full. 



Never shoot at a covey of quails while 

 they are on the ground. That is murder in 

 the first degree. Only a game hog would 

 do it. Flush the covey, but never shoot 

 point blank into them as they rise. Make a 

 point of shooting the first bird that rises. 

 Then you will have plenty of time for your 

 second barrel. 



Every lover of grouse and quail shoot- 

 ing should kill every house cat seen on or 

 near the feeding grounds of these birds, for 

 cats have destroyed more young birds, be- 

 fore they were able to care for themselves, 

 than have ever grown to maturity. I have 

 met many an old farmer, while tramping 

 around for quails, who has told me what 

 a smart cat he had, and how every day or 

 2 she would come up to the house with a 

 young quail in her mouth. It makes a man 

 look around to get a glimpse of that lovely 

 cat, so he can recognize her when they 

 meet under more favorable circumstances. 

 J. E. Taylor, Orleans, Mass. 



A TALE OF A 'POSSUM. 

 In 1883 I was the proud owner of a 

 knowing dropper, which, I will explain 

 for the benefit of the uninitiated, is a cross 

 between a setter and a pointer. He was a 

 good all around dog, hard to beat on any 



ordinary game, and among his other ac- 

 complishments he would often nose out the 

 lair of an opossum. 



A friend, having been presented with a 

 beagle, wrote me -to secure a live 'possum 

 on my next trip to the country and bring it 

 to his place on the outskirts of Philadel- 

 phia. He agreed to pay me for it, for the 

 sake of letting his beagle run it by moon- 

 light. I was much pleased, therefore, when 

 a mile from the farm my dropper, Don, 

 gave unmistakable testimony to the pres- 

 ence of a 'possum in a hole. I stayed by 

 the tree with Don while a boy ran to the 

 farmhouse for an ax, for which service I 

 gave him a quarter, and on enlarging the 

 hole we extracted 2 fair sized opossums. 

 Placing them in a sack, I started for the 

 farm, and later in the day for Philadelphia, 

 after writing my friend that I would bring 

 them over the next night. 



Right there my troubles commenced. I 

 foolishly showed them to a Scotch terrier 

 in my boarding house, and from then on he 

 made repeated trips to the cellar door in 

 hopes of getting at them. Hardly had I 

 got to sleep before the landlady called me 

 to say that Jack was clawing at the cellar 

 door and kept her awake by his efforts to 

 get down to the box. I got up and put 

 the box out in the yard, and Jack at once 

 commenced to gnaw the back door to get 

 out. I took my captives upstairs to my 

 room, only to have Jack turn his attention 

 to my door. Determined to keep them 

 alive and get my money, I at last took both 

 Jack and the box of 'possums to my room, 

 tied him to the leg of my bed and by occa- 

 sionally admonishing him with a whip got 

 a little sleep. 



The next afternoon brought a letter say- 

 ing my friend was temporarily hard up and 

 unable to make good, but if I'd bring the 

 'possums over I might see his dog hunt 

 them. Much as I should have liked to par- 

 ticipate in a hunt, the memory of the trou- 

 ble I had taken in bringing the opossums to 

 town, all the while in anticipation of the 

 payment of $2, and remembering, too, the 

 quarter I gave the' boy, I decided to give 

 the animals to our darkey wash-woman in- 

 stead. With the feeling of doing a com- 

 mendable act, I took them to her house. 

 As soon as she saw they were alive she 

 handed back the sack, saying she could not 

 kill them. 



I took them back home, loaded my gun, 

 turned them loose in the yard and, through 

 a slightly opened door, made a quick 

 double shot. Every back window on the 

 next street flew up, but after the excite- 

 ment had died down I retrieved my game 

 and once again started for the darkey's 

 house. As I drew the victims from the 

 sack she exclaimed, "Sakes alive ! They 

 ain't cleaned, and I can't clean 'em." In des- 



