1884.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



443 



Vkt $$orfan\nn %ouri§L 



UNCLE LISHA'S SHOP. 



AT the next gathering in Lisha's shop, Antoine was pres- 

 ent , and when the old cobbler became aware of him, 

 he gave him a hearty welcome, for though he was always 

 cracking rough jokes upon the Frenchman, he had a real 

 liking lor him for his good nature and the kindness he had 

 Shown at the time of the memorable bear fight. 



"Hello, Ann Twine! Buzzhoo musheerl Cummassy vau! 

 How dy do? Glad f see ye agin. Ohl you've missed it 

 't ye hain't ben lur<:' l.' aour meetin's, Sech stories as the 

 boys has bolg, an' Solon Briggs has tole us lots o' things 'twe 

 didn't know— nor he nuther," 



"Wal naow, one' Lasha," asked Antoine in a low .voice, 

 as he edged onto the rorncr of the shoe bench, "Wat kano' 

 "langwizii dat wus, M'sieu Brigg he spik it, hein? 'F dat 

 wus Auglish ah can't nevah larn 'em. He broke ma jaw 

 off. Guess he Sous Merican, don't it?" 



"Nev : miud, Arm Twine, you c'n onderstand it jes' 's well 

 's any on us— 'n jes' 's well 's he ken. I guess. It don't hurt 

 us none, 'u it, does him lots o' good to Jet off them 'ere book- 

 tionary words. Wal, Ann Twine, it's your turn naow. You 

 got to tell a story er sing a song. Le's hev Pappy no, come. 

 'Pappee no sa bum pay-raow,' " Lisha sang with a roaring 

 voice the first line of that once popular Canadian revolution- 

 ary song. "Tune 'er up!" 



'"Ba. CtosIi, one' Lasha," Antoine said with a sorrowful 

 voice and face, "Ah can' sing, nor tell storec, ah feel so 

 bad!" 



"What's the motter, man? Ye inyuns froze, er terbacker 

 gin aout?" 



"No sah, one' Lasha, ah got plenty onion, plenty tabac, 

 plenty, plenty. But ah have sush bad dream las' nat! Oh, ah 

 feel so sorry, me!" 



"Tell it, Ann Twine, tell it," Lisha shouted, and all the 

 others joined m the request or demand. 



"Ah don' lak tole it, mekyouall feel so so bad jes like me, 

 ah fred. Wal. dou' you cry. Las' nat w'en ah go bed ah 

 freegit pray. W'en ah git on bed eh tink ov it. Den fus' 

 ting ah say ah shet ma heye, den ah'll beegin. As' de bon 

 Dieu mek me mo' better as ah was — ef he can — an tek care 

 hole hwoman an' all the chillens, 'n' mek it heat not quat so 

 much meat, an more patac* and zhonnerkek dat was cheap. 

 Den ah go sleep. Bambye ah dream ah go to 1'enfer, what 

 you rail it, heli?" 



"Guess 't was 'baout mornin' when you dremp that dream, 

 Ann Twine. Moruin' dreams comes true, they say," Lisha 

 pm in, 



"Wen ah got dab," continued Antoine, only noticing the 

 interruption by a shrugand a wave of the hand, "de Dev' he 

 come as' me what so good man ah be come dah faw? Ah 

 say ah honly come faw fun, see what goin's on, me. Den 

 he say, 'Se' dawn, se' dawn, M'sieu Bissette, mek it you- 

 se'f to borne,' So ah'll sit in vei' warm place an' look all 

 'raoun'. Bambye one hole man come, he don't got any clo's 

 on it, honly jes shoe mek it tool ond' hees arm. Dev' he say, 

 'What you want it?' Hold man say, 'Dey a'nt have it me on 

 (udder place, so ah'll come heear, see 'f ah can git it jawb 

 mek it you some boot.' Dev' he stick it aout bose hees foots, 

 one of it lak man's., one of it lak caow's,den he say, 'You can 

 mezzhy only but one of it for mek bose boot; tek it you 

 choose.' Hole man he say, 'Guess ah tek it de bes' foot,' so 

 he mezzhy de man foot an' go work rat off. Pooty soon rat 

 off, bambye, he have it de boot all do, an' Dev' he try it on, 

 an', by Gosh, de boot fit de caow foot bes', an' he won't go 

 on tudder oh 't all, no sah! Den Dev' he mad, an' keek dat 

 poo' hole man aou' door in col'; an' ah feel so sorree for it ah 

 run rat back here an' git it some clo's, an' fus' one ah git hole 

 of 'it was one' Lasha clo's, an' bah Gosh ! you b'lieve it me, 

 dat clo's fit dat hole man jes' if dey been mek it for 

 him, yes sah!" 



The laugh, which the relation of this dream aroused was 

 made louder by Lisha's roaring "haw, haw, ho, "at the end of 

 which he said, glowering at the narrator through his specta- 

 cles. "You dremp that wide awake in the daytime, Ann 

 Twine. You hen studyin' on it up ever sin' you was here?" 

 'ISTo sab, one' Lasha, ah dream dat in amawnin'; an'hecome 

 true, you say? Wha' you s'pose dat hole man go? Dey 

 won't have it in de good place, dey won't have it in de bad 

 place — wha' }'ou s'pose he goin' go, hein?" 



"Guess he'll baiter go t' the 'Hio," Lisha answered, with 

 a laugh that ended in a sigh; "to the 'Hio, where his on'y 

 chick an' child is. Canucks," he continued, "don't never 

 die, 's fur's heard on, 'eeptin' the one 'at I spoke on, When 

 they git old 'oough to die they go to Colchester Pint. 

 Forty, filly years t'om naow you'll go there, Ann Twine." 



"Wal, da's pooty good place to feesh, don't it? Ah rudder 

 go dah as come dead." 



"Fish! Yes; fish 'n' inyuns 'n' terbacker J s baout alia 

 Canuck ketrs for. Ann Twine, you're the furderest Canuck 

 fom where ye c'n ketch bull-paouts an' eels 't I ever see. 

 Give 'em them an' inyuns an' terbacker, an' an ole hoss, V 

 a wuthless dog, 'n' they're happy." 



"You call it ma dog don't good for somet'ing, one' Lasha? 

 You tole him dat he bit you, den he show he good. He fus' 

 rate doe-, sah. He lay in haouse all a time honly w'en he 

 barkin' at folks go 'long on road, 'n' he jes' fat as burrer." 



"Good qualities, all on 'em," said Lisha, "p'tic'ly in a 

 Canuck dog, bein' as fat 's butter." 



"Those Y ere French," Solon Briggs remarked to Pelatiah, 

 who sat beside him, "is a joe-vial an' a fry-volous race." 



"Yus," said Pelatiah, sadly regarding the palms of his 

 mittens, much soiled with handling cord wood since sledding 

 had come, "1 s'pose they be pooty smart to run." 



Solon, disgusted with lus unappreciative listener, raised 

 his voice and addressed the Frenchman. "Antwine, didn't 

 your antsisters come from France?" 



"No, M'sieu Brigg, ma aunt seesters an' brudder too, all 

 bawn in Canada, Ma mudder one of it, seester to ma aunt, 

 prob'ly." 



"You misconstrowed my inquirement, Antwine," said 

 Solon. "I meant to ast you, wu'nt their prosperity 'at was 

 horned before 'em natyves of of France — reg'lar polly voo 

 Franceys, so to speak?" 



"Ah do' know — yas, ah guess so, ah guess yes." Antoine 

 replied at random, having uo idea of Solon's meaning. 



"Shah ! Fur's any conjoogle saUsfactualness is consarned, 

 if a man hain't a lingoist he might 's well talk to a sawmill 

 as one o' these furrin Canucks," said Solon, and added, "I 

 b'lieve I'll take my depart an' go hum." 



"Ah do J know 'f ah got it rat, zhontemans," said Antoine, 



*Canuck for potatoes, 



as the wooden latch clattered behind the departing wise man, 

 "but ah ('ink wat you call Solum in Anglian was dam hole 

 foolish, ain't it?" There was not a dissenting voice, but 

 Lisha said apologetically, "Oh, wal Solon means well." 



"I'll be darned if I know what he does mean," Sam Lovel 

 said. 



"Wal," said Lisha, "I s'pose he 's a well-read man, an' — " 



"Dum the wellred men!" Sam broke in, 'T wish 't they 

 was all sick V dead, consarn 'em! See haow they'se cuttin' 

 up aout West'n' in Floridyl" 



"Oh, wall," Lisha continued, "we're well red o' him an' 

 them, so le's don't bother." 



"Ef I was a Ninjun as I be a white man," cried Pelatiah, 

 rising and smacking his mittens together, "while 't there was 

 a pale face on the face of the U-nited States of Ameriky, I 

 wouldn't never lay daown my bow-arrers, my tommyhock 

 an' my wampum; never, no, never!" 



"Guess ye'd hev to lay daown yer wampum 'f T mended 

 yer boots, Peltier," said Lisha, and Sam Lovel advised the 

 budding orator to "save that 'ere fur the spellin' school 

 ex'cises next week." 



There was not much further discourse, for Lisha was 

 yawning and his guests took the hint, as broad as his jaws 

 could compass, and went their ways homeward, Antoine 

 singing "Papineau" at the top of his sonorous voice, and all 

 joining in the ringing refrain, "Hurrah, pour Papineau!" 

 till the owls on the further steep of Hog's Back weie fright- 

 ened from their propriety. 



turpi ]§i$toTg. 



"BIRDS IN THEIR HAUNTS." 



WE are promised about the end of this month a new 

 book on birds, from the pen of the Rev. J. H. 

 Langille. It is to consist of brief descriptions and full life 

 histories of all the species commonly found east of the 

 Mississippi River, and will give special attention, to the 

 songs and nesting habits. The work will contain about 570 

 pages and will be illustrated by 25 cuts. 



The following sketch of the Cooper's and sharp-shinned 

 hawks are from advance sheets of the book: 

 cooper's hawk. 

 In the top of a tall beech tree, I discover a hawk's nest, 

 and while I am querying whether it be new or old, the 

 female of Cooper's hawk {Acdpiter cooped) alights on a limb 

 near the nest, and presently drops into it. At the same time 

 I see a friend passing along the winter road near by, carrying 

 a fine rifle. He is a good marksman, so I beckon him to my 

 assistance. As 1 strike on the trunk of the tree the bird 

 leaves her nest, and my friend takes her on the wing. Down 

 she comes, so gradually that she almost appears as if alight- 

 ing, and skimming along the ground for some distance, 

 finally drops, squealing loudly enough to alarm the whole 

 feathered tribe in the neighborhood. As I approach her, 

 she defends herself with the heroism of a true hawk. The 

 bullet has passed through her thigh, shattering the hone 

 thoroughly, and the two outer pinions of one wing are cut 

 away. But why should this simple shattering of the thigh 

 bring down so strong a bird so readily? The explanation is 

 to be found in the peculiar anatomy of the biru\ In 1761, 

 Peter Camper, a distinguished Dutch anatomist, discovered 

 that the cavities in the hones of birds, which Gabbe had 

 already observed to contain no marrow, were in direct com- 

 munication with the lungs, and so participated in respiration. 

 In 1774, John Hunter, the great English comparative 

 anatomist, verified the same in his marvelous researches into 

 the anatomy of birds. Extending their investigations in the 

 most able manner throughout the entire class of birds, they 

 discovered that "the air-cells and lungs can be inflated from 

 the bones, and Hunter injected the medullary cavities of 

 the bones from the trachea. If the femur"— the thigh bone 

 —"into which the air is admitted be broken, the bird is 

 unable to raise itself in flight. If the trachea be tied and an 

 opening be made into the humerus"— the upper wing-bone 

 — "the bird will respire by that opening for a short period, 

 and may be killed by inhaling noxious gases through it. If 

 an air-bone of a living bird, similarly perforated, be held in 

 water, bubbles will rise from it, and a motion of the con- 

 tained air will be exhibited, synchronous with the motions 

 of inspiration and expiration. 



My specimen of Cooper's hawk is one of the largest, some 

 20 inches long. She is sometimes scarcely more than 18 

 inches long, while the male is never more than 18, and may 

 not exceed 16 inches in length. This species, which in 

 structure and color is almost precisly like that of the sharp- 

 shinned hawk, being, however, unmistakably larger, makes 

 with it, and it only in this country, a strongly marked 

 genus, the Acdpiter — the distinctive generic points being: 

 first, that the feathers extend but Islightly down the tarsus; 

 second, that the toes are long and very slender, much 

 webbed at the base, and thickly padded; third, that the 

 fourth primary is longest, the ""second shorter than the 

 sixth," and the first noticeably short; fourth, the soft and 

 finely blended character of the colors above, in maturity — 

 being a fine ashy-brown, blackish on the head. The under 

 parts of both birds are white, with fine cross streaks of light 

 reddish. They bear about the same relation to each other 

 as that of the hairy to the downy woodpecker. Cooper's 

 hawk is especially a bird of the United States, most common 

 in the Northern States, and extending but slightly into the 

 British Provinces. The sharp-shinned hawk is sometimes 

 fouud here in winter, but Cooper's hawk goes further south. 

 Early in May is the time for the nidification of the latter in 

 this locality. The nest, in the crotch of a small tree, or 

 where several limbs join the trunk, always very high, is 

 built of sticks and lined with dry grass, or strips of bark, 

 sometimes containing feathers, the depression being but 

 slight. The eggs, three or four, sometimes five, about 

 1.9(»xl.50, are white, greenish or grayish tinged, often clear, 

 sometimes slightly blotched with dark drab or brown. Mr. 

 Samuels mentions a pair robbed of their eggs four times in 

 the same season. "They built different nests in the same 

 grove, and laid in the four litters, four, five, and three eggs, 

 respectively. The eggs of the last litter were very small, 

 but little larger than those of the sharp-shinned hawk." 



The ordinary flight of this bird is rapid and straight- 

 forward, the regular strokes of the wings being frequently 

 relieved by sailing. In the mating season, when it is very 

 noisy, having a note which sounds like chee-e-eah, I have 

 seen it, high in air, above the tops of the tallest trees, shoot- 

 ing toward one of its kind whose voice it heard in the 

 distance, with half-closed and perfectly motionless wings, 

 and with a rocket-like speed and a gracefulness which no 



language could describe. In pursuit of its prey, which may 

 consist of small quadrupeds, the smaller clucks and waders, 

 grouse, and the larger kinds of the common land birds, it 

 moves with great spirit and adroitness, and seldom misses 

 its quarry. So well known is it in the poultry yard that it 

 is called the "chicken hawk." When reared from the nest it 

 becomes so thorougly domesticated as to need no confine- 

 ment. 



THE SHARP-SHINNED nAWK. 



The sharp-shinned-hawk {Acdpiter fuscus), in every way 

 so similar to Cooper's hawk, is some twelve inches long; 

 brown or slate-colored above, with a few white spots on the 

 back of the head and on the scapulars; tail also brown or 

 ashy, but considerably lighter, with fine dark bands across 

 it, sometimes tipped with whitish; the white under parts 

 closely and narrowly barred with reddish; tin oat, narrowly 

 streaked lengthwise with brown. Its nest is similarly placed 

 to that of the former species, only not so high up in the tree, 

 but is occasionally placed on a rock. The eggs, some four, 

 are about 1.40x1.20, roundish, clear white, or perhaps 

 slightly tinged with blue or green, heavily and distinctly 

 marked— patched — with brown. 



This hawk reaches Western New York the latter part of 

 April, and its eggs are laid early in May. It is readily dis- 

 tinguished by its short, broad wings, and rather nervous 

 and irregular flight; but it moves rapidly, and sometimes 

 with great impetuosity, so that it has been known to pass 

 through several glass partitions of a green house. Seizing 

 its prey on the wing, in the manner of a true hawk, it dashes 

 after it with the utmost directness, moving high or low, to 

 the right or left, as if by some continuous attraction. With 

 an unerring stroke, it wounds fatally in the very act of 

 capture, and then bears its prey to a tree, to be devoured at 

 leisure. In addition to the small birds thus taken on the 

 wing, it may pounce on one larger and heavier than itself, 

 or it may swoop down upon the small quadrupeds, or, after 

 the manner of the smaller hawks in general, make its repast 

 even on insects. As with birds of prey in general, the surest 

 way of escaping its clutches is by soaring; the thickets, into 

 which the smaller birds generally dive when pursued, 

 affording but little protection to its penetrating flight. Its 

 note, which is but seldom heard, issharp andshrill. Ranging 

 over all North America, it may be found in New York and 

 Massachusetts during mild winters. 



THE USE OF FIELD GLASSES. 



REFERRING to the use of field glasses for inspecting 

 and determining the various species of our feathered 

 songsters, let me add, that during nearly three years' study 

 of birds, the field glass has given me more insight into their 

 wpys and habits than the close examination of inanimate 

 specimens. 



The yellow-breasted chat, one of the birds most solicitous 

 of concealment and difficult of apprehension when pursued, 

 may be brought close to and examined satisfactorily with a 

 pair of glasses, for as soon as this eccentric individual finds 

 that it is not sought, it leaves cover, and may then he seen 

 scratching about in the leaves and brush in company with 

 brown and wood thrushes, fox-sparrows and chewincks, the 

 latter, although not being what may be termed shy birds, 

 still prefer their thickets and groves to the near presence of 

 man. Some of the warblers, Blackburnian, blue yellowback, 

 Nashville and a few others, seek their food among the higher 

 terminal blossoms and twigs of our large shade trees, but the 

 majority may be found lower down, in company with the 

 vireos, thrushes and sparrows. A tub, shallow trough, 

 or better, a small wooden tank, may be used to 

 advantage, as the birds can then be encouraged to bathe 

 and at the same time be brought closer for inspection. In a 

 tank four feet by four and one foot deep, with a platform 

 in middle; during the warm days of July and August, on an 

 average sixty -five birds of different kinds bathed and plumed 

 within one and one half hours. Birds were the wood, brown 

 and tawny thrushes, catbirds, chipping and song sparrows, 

 blackpoll, [??— Ed.] summer, yellowrump, black-throated 

 green and Nashville warblers. Baltimore and garden orioles, 

 kingbird, great crested flycatcher, phcebe bird, American 

 gold and pine finches [??— Ed.] (the latter not often), red- 

 eyed, warbling and yel low-throated vireos ; and robins, cat- 

 birds and red-eyed vireos most numerous. The "parasite" 

 (P. domeMmis) also frequents the tank and much annoys the 

 smaller birds, but as 1 have a smoothbore Flobert, with a 

 dust shot cartridge, near by (especially for these pests), the 

 rascals rarely escape to tell a tale. This tank is not more 

 than twenty-five feet from the house porch, and if removed 

 further away the number of visitants would undoubtedly 

 enlarge. 



Much might be said about the manner of bathing of the 

 birds; how the red-eyed vireo plunges unhesitatingly into 

 deep water, and the others step daintily down the incline, 

 first, dipping the bill, presumably to drink, but seemingly to 

 test the temperature of the water. Any one who has seen 

 their peculiar fuzzy appearance, as they stand all wet and 

 dripping, shaking themselves and then go off with a chirp 

 of delight to some bush to plume and arrange their dress, 

 cannot but feel satisfaction in knowing that he has but 

 taken his specimens with a field glass. Three of your readers 

 practice this plan, let more try it. Bittersweet. 



Bay Ridge, Long Island. 



AN ELECTRIC AMPHIBIAN. 



BY GEO. T. ATKXNS. 

 [From a letter to the U. S. Fish Commissioner.] 



I GOT in to-day quite a curiosity. An old fisherman on 

 Elm Fork of Trinity caught what seemed to be an eel. 

 He caught hold of it to take it off his hook, and it gave him 

 an electric discharge, powerful enough to affect the muscles 

 of side, shoulder and arm, and cramp the hand sufficient to 

 make him halloo for a companion to come aid him in getting 

 loose, 



I have the eel living in my store; it is a queer looking fish, 

 has two feet or legs where the pectoral fins should be, each 

 foot has four fingers to it, about one-eight to three-sixteenths 

 of an inch in length. The mouth is broad, an eel's mouth is 

 pointed. This fellow's head shapes down, more like the cat- 

 fish; mouth rounder and broader than the ordinary eel. He 

 has the regular opening for gills behind the head, hut the 

 lungs sit out on each side, and range off upward from the 

 head a perfect set of bracbiaeted fern leaves— blood red to 

 the center and pale dirty-tinged at the tips. He is about 

 fifteen to sixteen inches long, one inch iu diameter, and 

 about three inches from tip of tail has a natural cut in it on 

 top separating it from the body. 



I do not know what it is, nor whether it will live or not. 



