NATURAL HISTORY. 
weather was warm. [ was surprised 
to see on one of the roosts among the 
chickens a bird, called in this country a 
partridge, but which I am quite sure is a 
ruffed grouse. I called my brother, we 
closed the door, and commenced a merry 
chase. The grouse could fly as well as any 
wild bird, and it was several minutes before 
we succeeded in catching it. Fully two- 
thirds of its tail was pulled out when we 
finally captured it, but otherwise it was 
sound, as far as we could see. We kept the 
bird in a large box till the whole family 
had seen it, probably about an hour. Then, 
as that species of game bird is scarce 
around here, I decided to let it go. I took 
the bird out in my hand and gave it a little 
toss in the air. It flew a few rods and 
alighted in the garden. I followed, expect- 
ing to see it rise again, but instead of flying 
it merely crouched down and lay still. I 
tossed it up once more. That time it flew 
only a few feet, then alighted again and 
walked sedately back to the barn. It never 
left the place all day. Sometimes it was in 
the barn, sometimes just outside; but that 
night it disappeared. I could easily have 
taken some good photographs of the bird 
if I had had a camera. 
F. T. Wood, Whitford, Alberta. 

ANOTHER FRIEND OF THE SQUIRRELS. 
During a trip to Homestead, Pa., not 
long since, I had the pleasure of a visit to 
the home of Mr. A. C. Noel, a department 
foreman in one of the Carnegie mills. 
Mr. Noel, who was born among the Alle- 
ghanies, near the town of Loretto, Pa., and 
there spent his early days, has collected 
much in and about his home that reflects 
his early environment and inborn love for 
the beautiful in nature. Huis little colony 
of 4 grey and 2 fox squirrels is especially 
worthy of mention. Mr. Noel has arranged 
for them a spacious open air enclosure, 
where they live harmoniously, healthful 
and contented as in their native woods, 
provided as they are with so much to make 
them feel at home. Their nests are in 
some selected hollow tree trunks, on a few 
remaining branches of which may be seen 
on occasions, one or more of the bright 
eyed fellows deftly nibbling his lunch. 
In one corner of this playground, the 
floor of which is carpeted with sod and 
even in midwinter is most refreshing, 
grows a compact little hemlock, and among 
its branches the squirrels play hide and 
seek. 
Mr. Noel and his brother were ardent 
squirrel hunters in the days of the muz- 
zle loading rifle, but they have long since 
ceased to find sport in hunting such lov- 
able and interesting creatures. 
N. E. M., Cresson, Pa. 
44 
In answer to H. A. Morgan’s inquiry in 
RECREATION as to bull moose getting their 
horns locked, I know nothing of moose, 
but I know of 2 buck deer found near 
Eugene, Oregon, with their horns locked 
and one buck was dead; the other was 
nearly starved, past being able to stand, 
but had eaten all the grass within reach. 
I also know of 2 bull elk with locked 
horns, and it was impossible to get them 
apart. ‘They were nearly starved, but both 
were able to stand. 
U. S. R., Salem, Ore. 
MUSHRAT ON SHEBOYGANIN’. 
I hunt mushrat when snow begin, 
She like for make big haul; 
I go close by Cheboyganin’, 
Where he make some house las’ fall. 
I walk all night, I walk all day, 
She look roun’ everywhere; 
I nevare find where mushrat stay, 
Maybe she all get scare. 
Every day was too much blow, 
All night was blow some more; 
An’ everywhere she pile some snow, 
Like I nevare see before. 
One day I stand close by bridge draw, 
Some snow, some ice was float; 
So much big flood from Saginaw, 
She lose *bout hundred boat. 
On big ice-cake from Saginaw flat, 
Somet’ing I like for see; 
"Bout fifteen, twenty big mushrat, 
She float down close by me. 
I wish I have somet’ing for spear, 
Some big, long rubber boot; 
Dem nice mushrat she come so near, 
I got no gun for shoot. 
Dem ice-cake bust, she make me swear, 
I feel so awful mad; 
Some fat mushrat jump everywhere, 
By Gee! dat was too bad. 
George A. Williams, M. D., 
Bay City, Mich. 

Mamma (teaching Dorothy the alpha- 
bet) : Now think hard, dearie, what comes 
after t? 
Dorothy: After tea, papa usually kisses 
the waitress, and she screams—Chicago 
Chronicle. 

Tailor: Do you want padded shoulders, 
my little man? 
Willie: Naw; pad de pants! Dat’s where 
I need it most.—Chicago News. 
