HIS FIRST AND SECOND COONS. 



W. H. NELSON. 



My boyhood was needlessly barren of 

 ordinary joys. My first proud possession 

 was a dog. I bought him, a 2-months-old 

 puppy, at a sale, paying for him every cent 

 I had, $2. It was my hard earned hoard, 

 the measure not alone of niggardly pay for 

 honest work, but of a boy's self denial. It 

 had been earned by half dimes, dimes, and 

 rare quarters. 



I carried the woolly, squirming, roly- 

 poly puppy home in my arms, afraid to 

 take him into the house because of the 

 scolding my stepmother was almost sure 

 to give me, but having no other home to 

 offer him. On the way he whined and 

 licked my face and hands in a way which 

 won all my lonely heart, and I determined 

 that if the roof could not shelter him it 

 should not cover me. 



Sure enough, the madam made scant 

 welcome for him, but for once my father, 

 bless his memory, stood by me; and the 

 woman, devoted at all times to her hus- 

 band, yielded, and became the doggie's 

 warm friend. 



Major was a Newfoundland, thorough- 

 bred. He grew rapidly and gathered wis- 

 dom even faster than stature, though that, 

 at maturity, was immense. When he was 

 full gro^ n, but still held to his sportive 

 puppy pranks, the hired man and I decided 

 to give him a lesson in coon hunting. The 

 old dog, Nero, had considerable local rep- 

 utation as a coon dog, and with him as 

 tutor we had high hopes of Major. 



It was a hazy Indian summer night in 

 i860, and a half moon hung in the heavens. 



We struck at once for a tract of wood- 

 land along the creek bottom, where, if at 

 all, coons could be found. Old Nero, 

 knowing what was expected, dashed off, 

 nose down, tail up, with Major frisking 

 alongside, watching with the greatest in- 

 terest, bent on learning the new scheme. 



John and I walked leisurely along and 

 in a few moments lost all sound of the 

 dogs. Half a mile from home we came 

 suddenly on Major all alone, sitting si- 

 lent under a sapling, gazing upward with 

 all the dignity of a deacon. He wagged 

 his tail and manifested his gratification 

 when we came on him, but did not bark. 



I was for passing on, but John shunted 

 himself back and forth among the trees so 

 as to bring the moon to bear on all parts 

 of the coon tree, and at last declared that 

 either a cat or a 'possum was up there. 

 John at once shed boots and jacket and 

 shinned it up the tree. Presently he called 

 out, "By Gemini, it's a coon, and a big 

 one. Watch out. I'll shake him down." 



A few sharp whisks, and Zip, dislodged, 

 came tumbling to the ground. Major 

 sprang to catch him, using a method which 

 he had learned in catching chickens for 

 the dinner pot, namely, holding him down 

 with his paws. This plan did not prove 

 a success, so he turned, as a puppy will do 

 with a kitten, and sat down on the coon. 

 This indignity, of course, Mr. Zip could 

 not endure, and he resented it in a way 

 which sent Major into the air like a rocket. 

 He came down with a clearer conception 

 of what he was up against, and the crack- 

 ling, crunching bones of the coon testified 

 to the fierceness of his wrath and the 

 power of his jaws. The fight was brief. 

 One or 2 sharp squalls ended the victim's 

 protest. 



Gathering up the game, we went on. 

 Nero presently gave tongue, and when we 

 reached him, not far off, we found him 

 tearing at the bark of an oak standing in a 

 corner of the worm fence. Twenty-five or 

 30 feet high the tree had been broken off, 

 leaving a stump, which still lived and bore 

 its leaves unshed. 



John fancied he could see a coon near 

 the top, and, mounting the fence, began 

 to climb. Half way up he suddenly called, 

 "Look out!" and down came a coon, strik- 

 ing the ground on Nero's side of the fence. 

 It dashed under the rails through a little 

 drain, Nero in hot pursuit. As it ran un- 

 der the fence Nero grabbed it by the rump 

 and Major by the shoulders. Major, pow- 

 erful fellow, yanked dog and coon both 

 through to his side and proceeded to crush 

 the life out of the game. While thus en- 

 gaged poor old Nero, exasperated beyond 

 measure at Major's presumption in killing 

 his game, flew at his puppy pupil to give 

 him a lesson in ethics. 



The lesson came at an unfortunate time. 

 Major's blood was uo. In far less time 

 than I could tell it he had the old dog 

 down and his jaws were at Nero's throat. 

 However, he was too magnanimous to hurt 

 the old fellow, and at once let him go, on 

 parole. 



Mounting to the top of the tree, John 

 found another coon. That fell on Major's 

 ground, and was soon dispatched. 



Three coons were enough, and we went 

 home happy. 



Gallant, faithful Major! I have had 

 many other friends, but never one so 

 generous, so self forgetful, so true. He 

 paid the price of his love for me with his 

 life. Forty years have passed since I laid 

 him down in that long, dreamless slumber 

 which closes in undistinguishing kindness 



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