AND AMERICAN RURAL SPORTS. 
195 
the above instance, the animal was killed nearly three- 
fourths of a mile from our destined home, and ere we 
reached it, the inmates of the house had experienced the 
scent, and asked us on our arrival, if we had not killed a 
Skunk. 
This animal in some parts is called the Polecat, and in 
England the Phillemark or Fitchet. Its form somewhat 
resembles the ferret, but much larger; its motion is grace- 
ful, but not rapid, and when running, moves in zigzag di- 
rections. A full grown Skunk is about eighteen inches 
long, and the tail seven, one half of which is caused by 
the long hair at its extremity. It generally is of a dark 
brown or chocolate colour; this is caused by the arrange- 
ment of its pelage, which is of two kinds; the long hair 
which is blackish, and the fur which is of a dirty yellow, 
and the mixture of the two causes the brownish appear- 
ance of the animal. On the forehead is a white spot; the 
head is small, broad at the top, and tapers considerably 
to the nose; the ears are small, rounded, and sometimes 
tipped with white — the end of the tail is purely white; 
two white stripes extend along the sides of the back, com- 
mencing from the back part of the neck, and terminating 
near the hips — the throat, legs, and lower part of the tail, 
are the darkest. This is the general appearance of the ani- 
mal — but they vary so much, that no individual can be 
depended on as a representative in description of the race; 
as some are lighter, and others darker in colour; some 
are without the regular stripes on the back and spots on 
the head, and have patches of white over different parts of 
their bodies. 
The female brings forth her young in the spring, to the 
number of four or six. 
MANNERS AND HABITS OF THE DOMESTIC 
CAT. 
I have in my family a Cat, a castrated male, which I 
brought up from a kitten. He is a fine, well-shaped ani- 
mal, and has a coat of hair of the most perfect, glossy 
black, which, with the true characteristic of his species, he 
keeps very clean and beautiful. Fie is one of a litter of five, 
the offspring of an old grey Cat, an excellent mouser, who 
is since dead. Being the stoutest and handsomest kitten 
of his family, he was preserved from the general destruc- 
tion, and left in the charge of his old mother, with whom, 
in his early days, he had many a rare romp, and from 
whom he received many a prudent castigation. 
Quin, (as he is called,) is now four years old, and though 
he has lost some of his youthful vivacity, is still at times 
exceedingly playful and amusing. He will sometimes fly 
about the house as if he had lost his senses, tear up and 
down stairs, and throw himself into the air with the most 
antic capers. His general deportment, however, is one 
of much greater gravity; indeed, a considerable portion of 
his day-time is passed in sleep, to which, like a true Cat, 
he is deeply addicted. His disposition in the main is 
very sociable; and if strangers come into the house, he is 
not satisfied until he has walked round them, and made 
his examination. Any object, indeed, to which he is un- 
accustomed, undergoes his scrutiny; a new article of fur- 
niture or clothing immediately attracts his attention, and 
he enters at once into a close investigation. He takes 
particular delight in inspecting the market basket, and 
although he does not venture to meddle too closely with 
its contents, he exhibits more or less pleasure according 
as they happen to agree with his taste. He is somewhat 
of an epicure, and has his fancies in eating as well as other 
things. Salt meats he rejects; but fresh fish and oysters, 
especially the latter, afford him peculiar pleasure. Almost 
any kind of fresh meat will satisfy him, but he prefers 
poultry, which he will devour either raw or cooked. Fie 
has also a strange pai’tiality for the batter of buckwheat 
cakes; but in the gratification of his palate exhibits an in- 
structive lesson of moderation, never eating after his ap- 
appetite is satisfied, however dainty may be the food. 
Like most of his species, Quin has a great fondness for 
heat. In winter his delight is to toast himself on the rug 
before the grate, where he will endure its effects to a great 
degree; and in summer he will bask in the sun, (frequent- 
ly lying on the back of his head, with his nose upward,) 
until his black coat has imbibed what appears to me a 
most uncomfortable quantum of warmth. The hot days 
of this August, however, have driven him to the shade 
of certain bushes in the garden, under which he seeks shel- 
ter from the noonday sun. Flere he receives frequent 
visits from divers wasps and humble bees, with which he 
sometimes maintains a determined warfare. I do not 
know how he manages to prevent them from stinging him; 
but when they do not voluntarily abandon the field, he 
mostly comes off victorious, and ends the combat by 
making a meal, (a light one to be sure,) of the vanquished 
enemy. 
He has a remarkable aversion to persons of colour; and 
if any such are employed about the house, be will gene- 
rally betake himself to the garret, and keep in seclusion 
as long as they remain. He sometimes requires to be 
won from his retreat by the voice of some one to whom 
he is attached, calling him by name, to which, in general, 
he readily answers. I do not recollect to have noticed 
any other example of this peculiar dislike in the Cat, or 
