Deo. 11 1897.1 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Sallie and Maudie. 
Chicago, 111., Dec. 4. — Sallie and Maudie request me to 
thank several readers of Forest axd Stream who have 
come forward with the purpose of the alleviation of Maudie 's 
distress from fleas and Sallie's distress over Maudie's troubles. 
]VIr. .J. F. Sharp, of New York city, writes me thus : 
"Tell Sallie to make a paste of lard and snuff, equal por- 
tions, and rub well into the hair on Maudie, providing, of 
course, the skin has healed from previous heroic treatment. 
Tliis will remove the fleas, is 'not good to eat,' and is easily 
removable with soap and warm water." 
Parke Davis & Co., of Detroit, sent me a cake of flea 
soap, a sort which they think is good and with which they 
are anxious to experiment further. Since they have known 
it well mentioned, I will try it on the dog._ 
The Theo. Eicksecker Co , of New York city, also sent 
me a cake of flea soap for Sallie and Maudie, which they say 
will eradicate the fleas and not eradicate the dog. All ihese 
different things are receiving thorough trial, and I hope to 
he able to report on the subject by next spring if Maudie 
doesn't wear out before then. I never did see anybody 
fonder of a dog than Sallie is of Maudie, nor have I often 
seen a more unselfish devotion to scientific research than that 
displayed in this matter by Sallie in her effort to cure 
Maudie's fleas. The latter, 1 regret to say, does not appear 
to enter into the spirit of this thing as enthusiastically as the 
rest of us. If you show her a cake of soap she puts her tail 
between her legs — the best she can, as she is fashionable and 
wears it short — and runs out of the room in search of sanc- 
tuary. I trust, however, that this personal reluctance on 
Maudie's part will not divert any other friends from their 
purpose of sending on anything they may have for Maudie's 
fleas. We are pretty well fixed, but you can use a lot of 
soap during a winter if you are as industrious with a dog as 
Bailie is with Maudie. I'Jl bet she is the best laundried dog 
in Chicago. E. Hough. 
1306 BoYCE Bdilding, Chicago. 
Brunswick Fur Club. 
RoxBtTRY, Mass. — The ninth anrual winter meet of the 
Brunswick Fur Club will be held at Barre, Mass., during 
the week of Jan. 17. The club will make its headquarters 
at Hotel Barre. 
The annual meeting for the election of officers for '98 
and the transaction of other business will be held on Monday 
evening, Jan, 17. 
All sportsmen are cordially invited to be present with 
their hounds and aid in making this hunt the best in the 
history of the club, Bradford S. Turpin, Sec'y. 
POINTS AND FLUSHES. 
"A privatb carriage in which were two women was driven 
over the north roadway of the Brooklyn Bridge, and frolick- 
ing along with it part of the way was a big Newfoundland 
dog. Near the Brooklyn anchorage the railroad tracks 
slope down until almost even with the roadway. The 
third or power rail is nearest to the roadway, and is heav- 
ily charged with electricity. Onto this, in one of his pranks, 
the dog jumped. Then he bounded into the air and fell dead. 
The carriage rolled on, the occupants unaware of what had 
happened." So reads an item in the daily press. It seems to 
have escaped the attention of those who have charge of the 
matter that a man would have met the same fate as the dog, 
if he had touched the rail as the dog did, 
Port Jervis, Dec. 2. — James Spicer, a New Jersey farmer, 
was in Port Jervis this morning and traded with Joseph 
Thayer for an old-fashioned bicycle, giving in exchange a 
horse, tw^enty-two heads of cabbage, and a rabbit dog- Such 
is a piece of "news" which graced the front page of one of 
New York's greatest dailies. Tbe public will rest easier 
now that it knows that James owns a wheel. But the dog! 
A rabbit dog being bunched up and traded with cabbage- 
heads for a wheel. The world is surely degenerating. 
Central Park, according to press reports, is infested with an 
unusual number of homeless dogs this winter. One day last 
week "a big yellow dog" attacked the sheep, and' was shot 
by Keeper Peter Shannon, to whom is assigned the shooting 
privileges of the preserve. A day or two previous, "a big 
black dog" attacked a French waiter who was carrying a 
tray containing food, presumably sausages Shannon potted 
this marauder also. The dogs all seem to be "big," but they 
in color differ, being either yellow or black, thus putting the 
ferocity in proper press setting . 
Field Sports mentions the purchase of the setter dog Luke 
(Toledo Blade — Cambriana) by Mrs. C;«3ar Young, of San 
Francisco, from Mr. W. B. Wells, and it further states that 
"This makes nine choicely bred English setters that have 
been imported into the State during the last year, four of 
which are field trial winners, and still there are two or three 
more that we know of, over which nrgotiations are pend- 
ing, which will also come. Verily the English setter is hav- 
ing a boom on the coast." 
At a meeting of the executive committee of the Collie Club 
of America, it wa,s decided to perpetuate the memory of the 
many years' faithful services of the club's late treasurer, 
John Dobson Shotwell, by opening a subscription among 
the members for the purpose of providing a suiiable me- 
inento as a perpetual challenge cup, to be known as the 
Bhotwell memorial cup, to be competed for by American- 
bred collies, to be shown in braces and owned by club mem- 
bers. The committee headed the subscription with the sum 
of $50. Those who wish to subscribe to the memorial cup 
should send their subscription to the club's secretary-treas- 
urer, Mr. James Watson, 203 Broadway, New York. 
In our business columns this week A. H Norton, Win- 
sted, Conn., offers fox terriers; B., P. 0. Box 2899 New 
York, offers Gordon setter; J. 0 Vail, Warwick, N. Y., 
offers Chesapeake bitch; Fieles & Bro., Christiana, Pa, 
offers hunting dogs of ditt'erent breeds; E. A. Spooner, New 
York, offers pointers; J, Feulner, Cherry Valley, N. Y., 
offers setters: W. P. Austin, Mansfield, Pa., offers pointers; 
R. E. Smith, Afton, N. Y., offers partridge dog; W. Howell, 
Islip, L. 1 , will board and train dogs; C. C. Beveridge, 
Newark, N. J., offers broken t!kiglish setter. 
The Forest and Stream Publishing Co. are the largest 
publishers and importers in America of Books on Out= 
door Sports. Their illustrated descriptive cat.alogue 
will be sent free on request. 
Communications for this department are requested. Anything on 
the bicycle in its relation to the sportsman is p articularly desirabl 
WHEEL AND GAME. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
At Philadelphia, N- Y., there is a boy between thirteen 
and fourteen yeai-s old. His letters, besides bearing on 
school matters, often contain tales of hunting, and as most 
of the hunting is done with the aid of a bicycle, thev may 
be of interest to hunters who like odd styles of sport with 
guns. He knows hunting better than most boys of his age,, 
and as well as some men, and when, he says, "I don't need 
so much game to the square mile when I go on my bicycle," 
it is worth listening to liira. He writes in one letter; 
"I used to take my 12-gauge." a single-barrel shotgun, 
"but I don't any more Too much bother to unfasten it. 
The target pistol is a lot better. Cousin George has fixed a 
stock to it and says it's a dandy, and I can plug a cent about 
every time. 
"i go to school five days a week and get out at 4 o'clock 
in the afternoon — not much time to hunt before supper, but 
sometimes I go down the road past the graveyard to a bit of 
hardwood there. It's about two mites, and sometimes I see 
something— squirrel or partridge. One day I got a big hen- 
hawk. It sat nn that butternut just above the bass rock 
where you and Gus Richardson and George fished one time. 
I rested on the rail fence— what's left of it — and pulled on 
him at ten rods. Say. he jumped a rod and came down 
ker slump in the mud and sawdust. I tied him to the 
handle bars and rode up through town lickety-split. My ! 
she had nice black eyes, though — I mean the girl who 
wanted the wings. She got them too, you bet. The boys 
here would like to hunt too, but mostly their mas won't let 
them. I jits! 
"I don't need so much game to the square mile when I go 
on my bicycle. It don't take only a minute to go from one 
patch of woods to another, and every farm has one off in 
some corner or other where it's rough or swampy, or any- 
thing. I get through one of these clumps in about three 
minutes, up one side and down t'other. The partridges 
here fly a milfe when they are put up, and it don't pay to try 
to tree them. Never had such fun as hunting gray squir- 
rels. I never saw only those you got. One day I was rid- 
ing up the road toward Antwerp, past Roy Ashley's, and 1 
saw something go up a hickory tree there. 'Cat,' I thought, 
and then I see him again up in the forks of the tree, 'bout 
three reds up and six rods off. T slid off the wheel and 
drops on one knee, go's I could rest on the saddle— didn't 
have any stock then — and I let fly. The bark just over the 
beast jumped. I shot again and some more times, and he 
began to get excited (maybe I didn't). He ripped up one 
side and around t'other, then all of a sudden he leaped clear 
from the top of the tree and landed about four rods off. He 
besran to run before he hit the ground, and I after 
him, hollering. He up into another tree 'bout ten rods off, 
or so, and I broke both bis hindlegs high up and then 
plugged him in the neck. I took hini home right up Main 
street, and I cut the tail oft' to hang up in my room." 
That isn't quite the way Von W. would have done, but no 
squirrel ever pleased Von W. more. In another letter he 
writes : 
"Oh, say, ycu remember that swamp up at the Plains, on 
the road to Carthage, near where the sand blows so and 
looks like yellow snow? Well, I went off for a ride to day, 
and not having any place to go to just went. Course I took 
my pistol — wouldn't ride without it — and pretty soon I was 
near that swamp, and i went into it, and left my wheel in a 
brier patch, where they gets some blueberries. I went around 
them; and there was runways — rabbit runways--in the moss 
just like in Worden's swamp, or up to Pete Smith's, or any- 
where. I followed around in there, and pretty soon there 
was a rabbit sitting up, Crack! went the gun. My, how 
he did run! He was the worst scared rabbit you ever saw. 
Didn't have no cause to be, though. I couldn't have bit a 
house. I seen another one, but "never touched him. One 
place where it was sandy I see a fox track, and found some 
bluejay feathers under a low, thick pine. A hawk didn't 
get that bird. 
"Well, after a while I thought 1 was hungry, so I started 
back to my wheel, where I had my lunch on the carrier. I went 
and went, and kept going, and every time I'd see any briers 
I'd think that was the place, and by and by I got scared. 
Couldn't find my wheel. Then I went to the road and 
found my track — the only one, because nobody but a darned 
ijit would ride where it was sand; and when I came to the 
place where I left the road I found the brier patch and forty 
hundred stumps that looked exactly like the one I had left 
the wheel at. I looked very careful, and pretty soon, by 
walking around, I caught a glimpse of something shiny, and 
there it was. Betcher life, I'll tie a handkerchief to a slick 
when I leave my wheel again. Aunt Ann don't want me to 
go there again. 1 told her I see some signs just like what 
Bill Pardy called bear tracks, and 1 wouldn't be surprised if 
I'd get a wildcat some day. I had to tell her I lied before 
she'd let me go again. I'm going next chance I get." 
'The next chance came two weeks later, Then he writes: 
"Yesterday I went up to the Plains. I had a puncture be- 
fore I got to Slirhngville, some horse had left his shoe with 
some nails in it. Finding horseshoes ain't good luck; I 
know, I've found them. Tfixed my tire, though, and went 
ahead. Had to pump up about three times a mile. I left 
my wheel by a fence and stood a new tomato can on the 
post so it would shine, and circled back abcut half a mile. 
It's awful lonesome. Nothing but moss and sand and little 
bushes between the woods, and the woods are all dark and 
down in the gullies, i didn't see anything at all, only a 
hawk and some crows, which I couldn't steer my bullets 
into. An old pine tree had laid across that little white 
water brook with the nice, clean bottom— you know where I 
mean, below that shanty what's going to be buried with the 
sand some time — and I sat down on that. A little clump of 
brush was about three rods off and trees all around, little, 
crooked, second-growth trees, with branches every which 
way. Then I see 'something: a dirty, creeping, little tuft 
of yellow hair sneaking through that little clump of brush; 
slow, just like a snake shaking the swale grass a little. It 
made me shiver, I couldn't see what the thing was at first, 
then I knowed. It was somebody's cat, and anyhow it 
wouldn't be missed. I aimed and pulled. 'Yeow !' The 
cat jumped, and say, I was froze stiff. Goah, I never saw 
anything like it— such tearing, spitting, clawing the ah and 
reaching for things as that cat did. I was scared ; I pushed 
three cartridges under the barrel and jammed the pistol so I 
couldn't shoot. 
"By-and by the beggar just kicked and slewed around in 
tbe grass and laid still. He was the biggest cat I ever see. 
All gray and yellow-like, and a tail as big as your arm, and 
about 7m. or so long, I skinned him when I got out to the 
bicycle and took the hide to the house, and put some salt- 
peter, salt and alum into a pail. I'll work it dry to morrow 
night, I guess; I ain't going up there again— not with the 
little popgun again, I tell you." 
He did though and got a good bit of sport: 
"You know I told you about getting a cat up to the Plains' 
the other day. Well, I was up there again to-day, and haoS 
quite a time. I was going along on the moss which grows* 
there instead of grass, and all to once I see bird right beside'' 
a bush crouched down close to the sand there. I rode right' 
past about three rods away from it, and when I was about 
twelve rods beyond I got off the wheel and sneaked back: 
with the pistol. I kept an old stump brtween me and it, and. 
pretty quick I looked over, and there was Mr. Bird. I aimed' 
at his back, and knocked him into the dirt. It was a wood- 
cock. Now I always thought they stayed down in swamps 
and swales, but here he was in the sand, and where he could^' 
see a mile in any direction. On the way to the wheel I killed- 
a little green snake. Oh, I forgoti On the way up I saw a- 
big flock of wild ducks. Going to the St. Lawrence I guess, 
because it was a warm day. 
"I found some bird tracks in some sand across that field a. 
ways, and tried to put them up, but couldn't; so I went on' 
till I came to a wire fence. I hung a pine branch on it and 
left my wheel while I went up through a little gully I could 
just see beyond. There were a couple of cows there, and 
while I was going around one I fell over a log in the briers, 
and when I got up I heard something run. 1 looked, but 
couldn't see anything 'cept some bushes waving. Rabbit, I 
guess. I followed after a while, but couldn't see anything. 
When there are woods there on the Plains they are awful 
thick. Ynu have to go through edgeways all the while. I'll 
bet a fellow with a good dog would get a lot of them. I've 
heard some fly, but couldn't see them for the briers digging 
in my eyes 
"They say there are lots of foxes here. I never saw but 
one, and a dog was after him. It was up to the Plains the 
day I got the cat I was going along across a mile or so of 
marsh when I heard a dog beller out. I looked back, and 
there, about 30 rods off, was a fox Too far to shoot and the 
riding wasn't so bad, only all hummocks. I lit out after 
him and went as fast as I could. He ran too, ran like light- 
ning, with his tail out behind him. I got about eight or ten 
rods of him before he saw me. I guess he was scart. I'd 
'a' caught him if I hadn't run into deep hole and raised om 
the far side of it clear out of the saddle. The ground up) 
there is soft all over, and even the logs are rotten andl 
crumbly and dry. You can't ride over one, though. Ifc 
ain't safe to ride fast, either, because you go through grass,', 
and that hides holes. Sometimes you can ride a long ways' 
right off across country, then you fetch up in briers or a' 
gully." 
Another time he writes: "I went down toward Coon's 
mills yesterday, and turned up toward Theresa, and went'' 
'way oft" toward— I don't know where, to the west, though. 
I went through all the woods I could see, and took my 
wheel with me most of the time. It was a hard job in» 
places. I had to carrjr it right up a steep rock with trees on 
it, and went till I got lost. I saw a few partridges, and one 
sat still too long. He sat up, with his black feathers show- 
ing, and I shot his head off. I lost my lunch somewhere off 
my wheel, and was most starved; so I took and skinned the 
bird and dressed him. Some farmer had salted his sheep im 
the pasture there, and I made a fire and ete roast partridge — 
yum, yum, but it was good, I ete him bones and all almost.. 
I cracked some butternuts and had some apples, and saved 
the wings so I could prove I had the bird. I got the wish- 
bone yet. I had to ride seventeen miles before I could get 
home again, and I was pretty tired too. 
Once in a while he writes of going with some one to hunt. 
One of these is as follows, so far as the hunting went : 
"You know that little girl who 1 give the hawk wings 
to one time. Well, I took a rabbit over there one day for 
her ma to c.cok 'cause George had enough for us, and 1 said 
that down where I come from the girls allknow how to shoot 
them. Then I asked if Millie knew how to shoot. Of course 
she didn't. 1 knowed that, but after a while her ma said she 
might go if she wanted to; so last Wednesday there wasn't 
no school and so we went in the afternoon. You just ought 
to see her ride; she is a flyer. Well, we went down to the 
graveyard woods, and I put up a mark and showed her 
which way not to shoot and where trigger and hammer 
weren't alike, and by-and-by she could hit a stump as big as 
a barrel 'bout every time. Considering she's a girl, that's 
pretty good, isn't it, for the first time? Next night we shot 
another box up, and Saturday afternoon we weni down to 
the graveyard woods again. While we were riding over the 
bridge a flock of ducks went over the hill, and sailed in back 
of the woods and circled back, and then out of sight again. 
I knowed what that meant, so I hustled down to the woods 
and hid the bicycles behind the fence, and down below the 
woods was seven black ducks. 
"They weren't six rods from where we were behind those 
alders, right where George got that big pickerel that summer 
you was here. Well, I put in a .23 short smokeless and got 
the pistol into the fork of a bush and the twigs all out of 
the way and told her to squint through the sights. She did 
and wanted to know what she should do then. Well, after 
all that monkeying she pulled the trigger. I don't know 
which one she aimed at, but I guess it was at a log fourteen 
rods down stream. Anyhow she plugged a duck right in 
the breast and -he rolled over. She started to squeal, but I 
shut her up and shot two more before the darn fools knew 
what was up. Then ihe'd been wiggling around so much 
that the ducks was 'iracted to where we were and they 
jumped up 'bout 6ft. and flew off- never see anything like 
that before. Well, I went and waded out at the rit'ts just 
below, and when the birds came down I got all of them, an^ 
we went home after we'd shot some at a target. She was^ 
tickled, I tell you, when she found she'd killed a duck. She 
wouldn't know a bluejay from a hen hawk. 
"Sometimes," he writes on another occasion, "I shoot at 
fence-posts as I ride past them. It ain'c hard to shoot, but 
it is to hit. Once I snot at a fool crow what let me get close 
to him on my bike— missed him 'bout a rod, and he jumped 
right up straight and went as though to break his neck. 
Ravmond S. Speers. 
New York. 
The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Twesraj/, 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach ws at the 
latest ly Monday, and as mwcft earlier as practiable. 
