AND AMERICAN RURAL SPORTS. 
91 
pecks of the smallest beans, and ten quarts of seeds. The 
above old stock, without any young, consumed about half 
the quantity. 
From the same. Fantails or Shakers, the head al- 
ways in motion, are a beautiful stock, and good breeders, 
but so stupid and silly, as scarcely to be capable of taking 
care of themselves, or finding their home. Runts, 
although so much larger, breed as fast and equally forward 
as Tumblers. The duration of life in the pigeon is said 
to extend to about twenty years, and it is deemed full 
aged when the wings are full of the quill feathers. 
The chief objects of the fancy have hitherto been those 
varieties styled almond (probably ermine ) tumblers, car- 
riers, and the birds with great eft-ops, the most fashionable 
variety of which is the pouting horseman. The specific 
merits of these breeds are indicated by their names. The 
tumbler exercises that faculty in the air, but is chiefly 
valued for his peculiar form and variegated plumage. The 
carrier, as a messenger, cuts the air with almost incon- 
ceivable swiftness. This is the Columba tabellaria, the 
famous carrier or messenger, between Aleppo, and Alex- 
andria in Egypt. The pouter distends his crop to a 
size attractive to curiosity, and by his grotesque attitudes 
and familiarity with man, engages his attention. 
“The common dove house pigeon is the best to keep. 
They breed oftenest, and feed their young ones best. 
They begin to breed at about nine months old, and, if well 
kept, will give you eight or nine pair in a year. Any. 
little place, a shelf in the cowshed; a board or two under 
the eaves of the house; or in short, in any place under 
cover, they will sit and hatch and breed up their young 
ones. 
“It is not to be supposed that there could be much 
profit attached to them; but they are of this use; they are 
very pretty creatures, very interesting in their manners; 
they are objects of delight to children and to give them 
the early habit of fondness for animals, and of setting a 
value on them, which, as I have often had to observe, is 
a great thing.” — Moubray on Poultry. 
For the Cabinet of Natural History. 
THE YANKEE PEDLAR, AND THE HUNTERS. 
“Why is that you, all alive yet, Seth ?” said a stout 
woodsman to a slender, modest looking youth. “Have 
you had any more painter scrapes since I saw you ? I 
guess those tarnal fellows will make a meal of you some 
day, if you come to such close grips.” “ Let them, if 
they can,” replied the lad, “I a’nt much fear’d on em.” 
“ Have you killed any panthers lately ?” asked I. “ Yes, 
some.” “ Some ! how many does that mean in this part 
of the world.” “ I killed five or six — six it was.” “ Yes,” 
said the woodsman, “and that last one had a nation mind 
to kill you.” Why, I suppose, may be, it would have 
tried, if I had been mindfed to let it.” “Tell me how it 
was, master Seth; for I should like to hear it.” 
“ Why, sir, I wanted to have a hunt, and so I went 
over to one of the branches of the Sinnemahoning. It 
is a mighty wild place, and jist fit for bears and pain- 
ters — up one hill and down another, all the way. I had 
shot a deer, and wounded it badly, and was following 
its track, when a she painter, with two young ones, 
came across the track, just before me. 1 suppose she 
smelt the blood, and wanted the deer for her young 
ones, and wished to drive me off : but that was not 
fair ; for the deer, according to hunters’ law, always 
belongs to him who first draws blood; and when I saw 
her coming right at me, I up with my rifle, and the blamed 
thing missed fire. The painter sprung right at me, and I 
made with my rifle a motion to strike her, which, I sup- 
pose, startled her; for she stopt all at once, and so near 
that I could have reached her with my gun — and such a 
grin as she gave, you never seed ! I heard a fellow once 
sing a song how Davy Crockett grinned a coon off of a 
•tree; but I’ll be blamed if he could grin like that painter. 
I have thought since, that I wonder I was not skeered a lit- 
tle; but I wasn’t skeered a bit; and as she kept grinning at 
me, I jist said to myself, why now, I’ll be shot if this var- 
mint’s teeth are not longer than that old one’s that I killed 
last; and then, 1 jist thought, if she’d only keep grinning for 
half a minit longer, I could put a prime in my gun ; and so I 
took my powder horn, but I kept all the time staring her in 
the face, for it vyouldn’t do to take my eyes off of her, and 
so I primed all by guess; but I was quick about it, I tell you; 
and as soon as I had my rifle primed, I had a ball through 
her in a wink. You never seed sich a jump as she made! 
And then I cracked away at one of the young ones, and 
over it tumbled ; but it was almost dark, and so I let them 
both lay, and went back to my camp. The next morning, 
bright and early, I went back again, and found the two that 
I had killed lying where I left them, and the other young 
one was lying by its mother. When it was lying down, 
it didn’t seem much bigger than a fox, and it seem’d to be 
asleep; and so I thought if I could get round a tree jist by 
it, I could jump right on it, and catch it alive; and so I did. 
I believe it was asleep, for it never stirred till I fell right 
a top of it ; and then if we hadn’t a tight scuffle, I never 
had one! It wasn’t big, but it scratched like all natur; and 
when I mastered him, it cost me a powerful site of trouble 
to tie his feet, so that he couldn’t scratch; and at last, when 
