Forest and Stream 
Six Months, $1.50. 
$3 a Year, 10 Cts. a Copy. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 1913. 
VOL. LXXXI.-No. 7. 
127 Franklin St., New York. 
The Coon Hunt 
By ROWLAND E. ROBINSON 
(From “ 
O NE February night, when the crusted snow 
on the ridges and drifts shone brighter 
than burnished silver in the slanting rays 
of the newly-risen moon, Lisha's friends arriv¬ 
ing in force found the old man studying his 
almanac by the light of his little candle. So ab¬ 
sorbed was he in the latest work of his favorite 
author that he barely noticed the en¬ 
trance of his visitors, and only gave one 
comprehensive nod of general recogni¬ 
tion and welcome, without averting his 
gaze from the limp little pamphlet, al¬ 
ready well worn, though not yet two 
months off the storekeeper’s shelf. 
“Be you a-studyin’ of the prognostifi- 
cations of the weather, Uncle Lisher?'’ 
Solon Briggs inquired, craning his neck 
sidewise from his seat by the stove, "or 
be you merely divertin’ the intellecks 
of your mental mind, a perugin’ of the 
antidotes? I b'lieve,’’ he continued, ad¬ 
dressing the company generally, after 
waiting in vain for an answer, “ ’at the - 
is more solider inflamation and stay- 
tistics in the V’mont Re-gisser ’an what 
the’ is in Middlebrookses’ Farmer’s 
Almynack, which Uncle Lisher is a- 
readin’ of; but Middlebrookses’ is tor- 
able hefty on weather productions, 
drawin’ aside the screenin’s o’ futur’ 
cornin’ events, as it ware, an’ the anti¬ 
dotes an’ re-cypes is amusin’ an’ in¬ 
structin'. I see ’at the’ ’s tew re-cypes 
fer curin' hams. Like ’nough Lisher ’s 
studyin’ them, bein’ ’at he killed a hawg 
last week.’’ 
But Uncle Lisha’s spectacles were 
brought to bear on the page headed with 
the gray wood-cut of two men breaking 
and swingling flax, and in the back¬ 
ground a prancing horse hitched to a 
sleigh that he never could break was 
being swingled by his driver with a 
club of a whip. Lisha’s forefinger went 
down the columns of the days of the weeks and 
months as slowly as ran the cautious weather 
prophecy: 
.Now expect 
.cold weather 
.and good 
.sleighing for 
. some 
(Sexeg. Sunday).;.time 
(o low in South.) 
. Cloudy 
Uncle Lisha’s Shop.” Copyright by Forest and, 
..cold weather and 
. likely 
.for snow, 
. rain 
. and 
. hail. 
.High winds 
. and 
(G. Washington b. 1732.) 
. cold. 
. Snow. 
till it stopped at “26, Sat.,” and underscored the 
date with a deep nail-mark. “Good airth an’ 
seas!” he shouted. “Boys, did ye know ’t this 
was the twenty-sixt’ of Febewary? This is the 
day ’t the ol’ bear comes aout! He’s seen his 
shadder, ’n’ he won't poke his nose int’ the day- 
Stream .) 
light agin fer forty days. We sh'll hev' a col’ 
March ’n’ like ’nough the wind ’ll be north when 
the sun crosses the line, ’n’ then we'll hev’ a 
back'ard spring ’n’ a poor corn year.” 
“Bah gosh! One’ Lasha, ef dat de way you 
goin’ mek wedder, Ah ant want it you mek heem 
for me more as a week! Dat way you'll ant 
rose no corn fo’ you bear, hein?” 
“Arghem!” Solon Briggs began, 
clearing his throat and sticking his 
thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, “I 
hev my daoubts consarnin' the paower 
of human mortality tu foretell the corn¬ 
in’ futur’ weather, which it bein’ the 
case, it hain't no way phillysophycable 
that beasts an’ annymills, which human 
man is sot above ’em, has that segash- 
iousness gin’ em. Haow is wild geese 
a-goin’ tu know more ’n we du when 
winter’s a-comin’, or mushrats tu per- 
pare their inhabitations—when they 
build haousen—fer a more ’n oncom- 
monly tough winter, or bears an’ woo’- 
chucks know whether the spring 'll be 
back'ard or for’a’d? Haowever, not¬ 
withstanding I du not deny there bein’ 
signs gi’n whereby an’ by which we 
can tell suthin’ more or less haow the 
weather ’s a-goin’ tu be, sech f'r in¬ 
stance as hawg’s melt an’ the hus’s o’ 
corn, the haighth o’ weeds an' et 
cetery.” 
"Wal, Solon,” said Sam, “your 
idees an' mine don’t jibe egzacklv. You 
’low ’t a man can tell if it’s goin’ tu 
be a hard or open winter by lookin’ 't 
a hawg’s melt ’n’ corn hus’s an’ so on 
—but annymills can’t tell by nothin’. 
Naow, I don’t b’lieve there’s any tellin’ 
by a hawg’s melt nor corn hus’s, fer 
you'll find diff’ent-shaped melts in diff’- 
ent hawgs killed the same day—an’ 
what awdds does ’t make tu an ear o’ 
corn whether the hus’s is thick or thin 
’s long ’s they’ll be loosened off ’fore winter, 
anyway? An’ the weeds grows tall ’cause it’s 
a-growin’ season, not ’cause the snow ’s goin’ 
tu be deep. But ’sposen a man can tell by signs 
’t he sees. Why can’t annymills, ’at can see 
things, an' hear things, an' smell things 't we 
can’t begin tu? A turkey ’ll see a hen hawk 
’fore it begins tu be a speck in the sky tu you 
an’ me, an’ by seein' or smellin’ a crow ’ll find 
carri'n milds off; a fox ’ll smell a maouse, or 
hear him squeak or rustle the grass furder ’n 
ROWLAND E. ROBINSON. 
