Sept. 3, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



188 



"Wal," the old man continued, "he put on his hat an' 

 kwut an' off he went up tu Uncle Eben's haouse where 

 the commissioners hedn't goddone a settin' an' tol' 'em 

 'at he'd made a mistake, which he'd faound aout the 

 'state didn't owe him nothin', an' his 'caount must be 

 hove aout, which the commissioners did heave aout, an' 

 he went home turribly relieved in his feelin's. 



"He sot tu duin' up some o' his chores 'fore supper, an' 

 the fust thing he done was tu feed his hawg, an' as he 

 got nigh the swill barril he heard that same kerslosh, 

 kerslosh, whack, whack, agin, on'y not so laoud as afore, 

 an' all kinder muffled as ef it come aouten the airth 

 ondeneath, an' he groaned aout laoud, 'Ebenezer Hill, 

 can't you lemme 'lone when I ben an' ondon,e what I 

 done?' An' he was so scairt he couldn't scacely take the 

 kiver off'm the s^vill barril, an' jest as soon as he did, ker- 

 slash, kerslash, kerwhack, whack, come the same ol' 

 n'ise laouder'n ever, an' right under his nose. An' what ye 

 s'pose it was?" 



Uncle Lisha swept a slow inquiring glance around his 

 audience. Only Antoine ventured an answer. 



"Ah do' know 'f he ant prob'ly dat hoi' shoemaket come 

 back for get col' off in de barril swiU, hein?" 



The old man glowered upon him a moment between his 

 bushy eyebrows and the upper rim of his spectacles before 

 he said: 



"It wan't nob'dy ner nothin' but a hen 'at had tumbled 

 int' the bai-ril an' th' not bein' swill 'nough in 't tu draound 

 her, she kept a-sloshin' an' a-floppin' the hull endvirin' 

 time." 



"Bijer h'isted her aout an' hove her away so spiteful 'at 

 he nigh abaout killed her, an' went a-mumpin' raound 

 feelin' wus 'n he did when he thought Uncle Eben's ghost 

 was a-hauntin' on him." 



"He'd withdrawed his 'caount an' the' wa'n't no help 

 for 't naow. 'Seben dollars,' says he, 'an' fifty cents in 

 money 'at I might jest 's well had 's not, gone to thunder. 

 I wisht that dumbed ol' hen had died 'fore ever she 

 tumbled int' that swill barril, con-sarn her.' An that's 

 haow thankful lie was tu hev her savin' him f 'm commit- 

 tin' a sin." 



"He had certingly ortu ha' ben thankful that it was a 

 mortal hen stid o' the apperagotion of a def uncted man 

 'at come tu save him from committin' a grevious crime," 

 Solon Briggs commented as he dropped his right leg from 

 across the left and with both hands lifted the left to the 

 uppermost place. 



"Dat mek me tink rembler," said Anboine, who had for 

 some time been impatiently awaiting an opportunity to 

 speak, " 'baout one man Canady — " 



"One man Canady," cried Uncle Lisha, "I wish't the' 

 hedn't never ben but one man in Canady, an' he ha' staid 

 there." 



"O, One' Lisha," said Antoine, in a grieved voice, 

 "spose dat was me, haow lonesick you'll was be some tam 

 an' what troublesome Ah 'U was gat for ta' care all dat beeg 

 country all of mahsef." 



"Wal, wal, go ahead an' tell yer story, Ann Twine," 

 said Uncle Lisha. "It 'U be a lie, but you '11 have tu tell 

 it." 



"It was 'baout a man dat was gat save hees laf by one 

 hoi' hen. Yas, sah, prob'ly two of it, one for be keel, 

 tudder for be hang up for keel de man. 'P you '11 ant 

 b'lieved it Ah can' tol' you hees nam, bose of it, but 'f 

 you '11 ant goin' b'lieved it. Ah '11 ant goin' tol' you." 



"I guess we c'n stan' it. Go ahead." 



"Wal, sah, boy," Antoine rapped the ashes from his 

 pipe and laid it upon the stove, ' 'dar was one hoi' man 

 Canady, nem Pieri"e Gautier, Ah guess so, an' he'll get more 

 as liondred acre Ian' an' he pooty good up. An' he leeve 

 all 'lone wid hees waf. Wal, sah, one tam he'll go on de 

 wood market to La Prairie an' sol' up hees wheat an' 

 tree, four, prob'ly sax fat hoi' peeg, an' he'll brought 

 home lots o' money for it, prob'ly more as mos' two hon- 

 derd dollar. 



"Wal, sah, dar was fellar, nem of Gabriel Sa' Michel, 

 was veree bad, do-noting feUar was be on de market an' 

 see hoi' man Gautier gat all dat money, an' he '11 mek off 

 hees min' he 'U goin' gat dat heesef 'f he '11 had to keel Bon 

 Homme Gautier." 



"Good airth an' seas, Ann Twine, you jest said his name 

 was Peair, an' neow you're a callin' on him Burnham." 



"O, bah gosh, dat ant be hees nem of it, more as One' 

 was you nem. Dat mean jes' de sem lak'Onc', honly it 

 mean good man; dey too polite for call it you, hein?" 



"Wal, wal, go on wi' yer Gaushy, er yer Burnham, er 

 yer Gauby Ciamshell," cried the old cobbler, prodding the 

 air with his awl in Antoine's direction. 



"Wal, seh, dat hugly-ant-lit-for-be-decent Gabriel, he '11 

 went dat naght for robber Bon Homme Gautier, stinkin' 

 long in de darks jes' lak skonk goia' for robber some negg 

 on a hen rouse." 



"Sneakin' 'long, you mean tu say, Ann Twine, skunks 

 don't go stinkin' 'long on sech business." 



"Sneakin' den, ef dat was please yon more better, but 

 Ah b'lieve Ah '11 was tol' dis storee, me. Wal, le' me see 

 where Ah 'II was be. 



"Gabiiel was goin' long caffly aU stoop daown close up 

 bah hoi' Pierre hees haouse, an', seh, fus' ting he know it 

 he walk almos' top of a skonk. An', seh, zhweetz, dat 

 leetly caiiss preffume heem raght on bose hees heye of it, 

 an' mek it so bline he was mos' can' see for swear, an' 

 hurt heem so for crazy heem. 



"He '11 can' tink for robber, he can' see for robber, all 

 he tink was for fan' brook for wash off hees heye, an' 

 den go home. An' den he go stinkin'. Ah bet you head. 

 One' Lasha," 



"Proberbly." 



"An' he '11 tink le Bon Dieu was sen' dat skonk, for 

 kept him from robber poor hoi' Bonhomme Gautier, an' 

 dat was de true. An' dat was de way a skonk keep one 

 man from be keel, an' one man from be hang up." 

 Antoine waited for applause in a blank silence, wherein 

 his audience waited for the conclusion of his story. 



"Why, Ann Twine," Uncle Lisha said at last, '•ef that's 

 the hull on't, I don't see 's there was no hen had nothin' 

 tu du with 't." 



"O, bah gosh," cried Antoine in vmwonted confusion, 

 clutching his head with both hands. 



"You'll mek me so bodder wid tol' me haow Ah '11 tol' 

 it, Ah '11 gat two story all twis' up. Ah b'lieve Ah 'II tol' 

 wi-ong story." 



"I haint no doubt you've tol' a wrong story, Ann Twine, 

 you're allers a-teUin' wrong stories." 



"Antwine's juUuk a haoun' pup," said Sam, "'at goes 

 oflE on the fust scent he comes tu 'at crosses the track he's 



"Ho, Sam," cried Antoine, tumingtoward him, "Ah '11 

 glad for he heard you spoke. You '11 ant say noting but 

 smoke all de evelin'. Ah, Ah '11 be 'fred you loss you 

 vowse." 



"I do' know as that was the way on't," Joseph Hill said 

 as he came to the stove to light his pipe with a splinter, 

 "but mebby the skunk eat the hen 'fore Antwine could 

 git to 't." 



"An' Zhozeff can spoke," cried Antoine in feigned sur- 

 prise, "Ah '11 aint tink he was mek off hees mine so quick." 

 "WeU, go on, Ann Twine. You promised us a story 



Fig. 3. Rltfed Grouse. 

 (Bonasa umbeUus.) 



wi' a hen in 't, an' a hen we've got tu hev. Naow patch 

 up your lie an' go ahead." 



"Ah tol' you 'f you '11 ant trouble me all up an' mek 

 me fregit for rembler de story Ah '11 was beegin," said the 

 Canadian when the laughter of his companions subsided, 

 and as they promised no further interruption, he began: 



"Wal, seh, dat Gabriel S' Michel, he '11 goin' 'long jes' 

 sem Ah 'II say, honly he '11 ant walk on top of skonk. He 

 was very fon' of cheekin hesef . An' gret many tam de 

 f olkses loss dey hen an' lay it to skonk an' wezil an' chat 

 sauvage, w'en dey '11 ant to blem. 



"Dis tam he feel inside of hesef, he was be dreffle hon- 



FiG. 4. Blackcock. 

 (Tetrao tetrixd 



gry, an' he tink haow good was tase one of hoi' Pierre fat 

 chickens, w'en he '11 gat finish hees job of robber de 

 money. 



• 'He '11 tink it was bes' way for gat hees chicken fus, so 

 he be aU. ready for go wen he do dat job. So he crept in 

 de hen rouse an' beegin felt raoun' in de darks, and de 

 firs' hen he touch hoi' of it was de beeg hoi' rouster. 



"He be hurry, so he pull de hoi' rouster oft" de rouse, an' 

 'fore he can stop off hees win' dat hoi' rouster holler lak 

 eve'yting, '■keraaw, keraaw, keraaiv, keraaw-uk, wen 

 Gabriel shut hees neck. 



' 'De nowse wakin' up de hoi' whomans of her sleep an' 

 he '11 punch hoF mans of hees rib an' holler, 'Woke up. 

 Skonk on de hen rouse.' An' hoi' mans jump off de 

 bed an' gat hees gaun an' shove de winder an' look on de 

 darks. 



"It was be darks, but no so very darks, for he can see 

 mans creep it off de hen-raouse, an' hoi' Pierre he'll shot 

 off hees gaun over hees head of it, an' Gabriel so scare 

 he t'row de rouster an' run. more as free mUe, probly 



wo, fore he '11 stop for gat hees breeze, an' den he give up 

 all hees plan for robber. 



"Den he very glad for tink he 'U ant do so weeked an' 

 every year dat sem day he take de pries' beeg fat chicken, 

 an' hoi' Pierre eve'y year dat sem day he took de pries' a 

 beeg fat chickin, so you see dat hoi' rouster he '11 do great 

 many good. He 'U save hoi' Pierre from be keel, he'll 

 save GalDriel from be hang up, prob'ly. On he '11 mek de 

 pries' more fatter as he was." 



"Why, Ann Twine," cried Uncle Lisha, while the 

 story-teller looked from one to another in expectation of 

 approval, "your hen's turned aout tu be a ruster arter 

 all. Haow be you goin' tu fix that up?" 



"O, One' Lasha," cried Antoine as a tritunphant grin 

 swept the shadow of perplexity from his face, "haowyr u 

 spose dat Gabriel was goin' tol' what he touch hoi' of in 

 de darks. Ah '11 ant to blem 'f he '11 touch hoi' of rouster 

 wen he '11 meant for git hen, ant it?" 



"Wal, Ann Twine, you got aout on't pooty well," said 

 the old man, laying aside his tools and the boot he was 

 at work upon, "an' naow it's gittin' toward 9 o'clock, an' 

 I move we close the meetin' afore the critter thinks up 

 another lie tu tell or abaout another man in Canady." 



EowLAND E. Robinson. 



MOUNTED GAME BIRDS IN THE U. S. 

 NATIONAL MUSEUM. 



BY DR. K. W. SHUFELDT. 



(Continued frovi page ISld 



Europe possesses in its avifauna a magnificent game 

 bird, which I believe has not as yet been successfully 

 introduced into the United States; I refer to the famous 

 blackcock or moorcock — Tetrao tetrix of Linnajus and 

 naturalists generally. Until very recently the museums 

 have had no first-class mounted specimen of this bird, at 

 least no male, which is a very different- appearing bird 

 from the female. This is the case no longer, however, 

 for a most beautiful example has been obtained and 

 preserved in the manner shown in Figure 4, which is a 

 photograph of the specimen itself. This gives its form 

 most perfectly, but no photograph or reproduction of the 

 same can ever convey any idea of the superb plumage of 

 this the truest of all the grouse in the world. Black to 

 be sure, but so glossy and iridescent, that the reflections 

 of the same have actually taken white in his picture. 

 There is nevertheless a pure white bar across either wing, 

 while the remarkable recurved feathers of the tail are 

 almost a dead pure black. Female blackcocks are known 

 in Great Britain as "gray hens," and the species has a 

 wide range on the continent. It is more or less nearly 

 related to that giant of the grouse family, the capercailzie, 

 a live pair of which have just for the first time been 

 successfully brought to this country for the purpose of 

 breeding and introducing them to our own avifauna. 

 The family to which it belongs is extensive enough with 

 us, for any one at all interested in our birds knows that 

 we have a great many species of the Tetraonidce, but it is 

 certainly well to introduce this desirable stranger for 

 spoi-tsmen and other purposes. 



Occasionally the taxidermist instils more or less activ- 

 ity into one of his subjects, and in large scientific 

 museums that can be done with advantage in three or 

 four per cent, of the specimens on exhibition. It should 

 be confined, however, to those birds which are given to 

 assuming peculiar attitudes, or to performing odd antics 

 in nature. Grouse during the courting season, when in 

 the presence of the hens, behave, as do othere of the same 

 family, in a most remarkable manner sometimes. They 

 have also a very animated appearance when anything 

 specially attracts their attention, which may cause them 

 more or less alarm. Wolf, the famous animal portrayer 

 and painter thus drew our ruffed grouse {Bonasa umbeUus). 

 He is made to stand upon a slightly inclined bough, 

 lateral aspect on, and from his appearance something in 

 his neighborhood has evidently startled him, and the 

 object is either being looked for or else closely surveyed 

 by the bird. The attitude of a specimen of this species in 

 the collections of the National Museum has been very 

 successfully copied after this figure of Wolf's, but in hav- 

 ing it photographed for illustration here, I had it taken 

 direct front view on, and the result has given us the 

 pleasing figure seen in Figure 3. No severer test for the 

 work of the artist than this could have been made, but it 

 meets it most successfully. 



The bird is seen to be all inquisitiveness, and yet has a 

 thorough look about him of possessing ample means in his 

 powers of flight to escape the danger, whatever it may 

 prove to be, just so soon as he makes up his mind to go. 

 His tail is widely and horizontally spread; his "ruffs" are 

 extended to their fullest extent, and stand out from his 

 neck; his body is horizontally disposed, and, finally, to 

 keep his balance, he has instinctively lowered the wing of 

 that side which, on account of the inclination of the 

 bough, requires it. 



Eepresentatives of this genus, by one species or sub- 

 species or another, are found distributed pretty much all 

 over the United States, and are great favorites with sports- 

 men everywhere. According to the Check List of the 

 American Ornithologists' Union, the type species or Bon- 

 asa umbellus proper, is found throughout eastern United 

 States, south to North Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi and 

 Arkansas. In the densely timbered portions of northern 

 Maine and the British provinces, west to eastern Oregon 

 and Washington, its place is taken by the Canadian ruffed 

 grouse (B. u. togata), but on Bendire's authority I learn 

 that in the New England States north of Massachusetts it 

 intergrades with Bonasa umbellus proper, "the majority 

 of the specimens found throughout southern Maine, New 

 Hampshire, Vermont and northern New York being 

 scarcely referable to either form, birds found in the high 

 lands approaching the Canadian ruffed grouse, while those 

 in the valleys are nearer typical Bonasa umbeUus." 



Then in the Rocky Mountain region of the United States 

 and British America north to Alaska, we meet with a 

 third form, the gray mffed grouse (B. n. umbelloides), and 

 lastly, throughout the coast mountains of Oregon, Wash- 

 ington and British Columbia, we have the Oi-egon ruffed 

 grouse or the Bonasa umbellus sabini of naturalists. This 

 is the darkest and handsomest sub-species of the entire 

 genus, while the gray laiffed grouse represents the palest 

 of them aU, and the one, in so far as coloration goes, the 



