HAVING FUN WITH A WOODCHUCK.

BY ALLAN FORMAN.

Jack and I made up our minds to catch a woodchuck. We were spending the summer down on the east end of Long Island, and judging from the number of cauliflowers eaten by them, the woodchucks were abundant; so we determined to catch one.

Farmer Brown, to whom we applied for advice, told us to "grab him by the tail as he went into his hole." This sounded so easy that we decided to try it at once. We found, however, after two or three days of patient waiting, that the woodchuck absolutely refused to go into his hole while we were within grabbing distance.

We then set steel-traps in the burrows, but with no effect. We wandered around the fields armed with an old musket, and succeeded only in wasting a large quantity of powder and lead. We tried to drown one out, and after blistering our hands by carrying pails of water, were told that "a woodchuck hasn't lived in that burrer for two years." We were disappointed, but not discouraged.

"Let's set the rabbit trap," said Jack one morning as we were planning for the day's campaign.

So we carried the rabbit trap, which was a great box with a swinging door, up to the hedge back of the barn, and set it. Farmer Brown laughed at us, and said,

"Ef you see a 'chuck, put for the nearest hole; ef you git thar before him you can stop him from goin' in."

This plan seemed so much more exciting than any other, that we spent that afternoon and the next day looking for a stray woodchuck. Toward evening our patience was rewarded by the sight of a woodchuck in the middle of a field. Jack and I had by that time learned the location of the holes as well as the owners themselves, and we both started for a burrow in the hedge.

The woodchuck saw us, and made for the same burrow. He hadn't so far to go, and was evidently in a great hurry. Jack managed to arrive just in time to throw his hat in the mouth of the hole, thinking to bar the progress of the woodchuck. Vain hope! On came the woodchuck, and dived into the burrow, carrying Jack's hat with him. I just reached the spot in time to see the brown stump of a tail vanish, and hear Jack exclaim,

"I wonder what he is going to do with my hat?"

The loss of Jack's hat cast a damper upon our hunting for the afternoon, and it was not until after supper that we thought of the rabbit trap. When we reached it, it was sprung, and there was a sound of scratching inside that showed plainly something was trying to escape. We carried the trap carefully down to the barn, and opened it, so as to let our prize into a large barrel.

Our happiness was complete: it was a large woodchuck. What had tempted him to go into the trap I am sure I can't tell. Probably he was a victim of his own curiosity. At any rate, we had him safe and sound in the barrel, and after we had covered it with a board we went to our beds very much elated over our success.

The next morning we rose early, and went to the barn to see our prize. There he was in the barrel, his little eyes gleaming with rage, and signifying his disapproval of our proceedings by a series of short, sharp barks. Suddenly a brilliant idea struck me.

"Let's shut the doors; then let him out on the floor, and have some fun with him," I said.

Jack agreed, and we soon had every door and window but one securely fastened. This window was, fortunately for me, overlooked in our haste to have our fun.

We turned the barrel over, and out sprang a very angry woodchuck. He started directly for Jack, and that youth, with an agility which I had never given him credit for, scrambled into the oats bin. The animal then turned his undivided attention to me, and I dashed around the barn, the woodchuck in pursuit.

Every nail in the barn seemed to stand out and take a hold upon some portion of my clothing, and it was rapidly being reduced to fragments. Jack jumped out of the bin to assist me, but only succeeded in making the confusion worse. With a jump, the woodchuck fastened his teeth on Jack's arm. Luckily he only bit through the sleeve of his loose blue flannel shirt. Thoroughly frightened, Jack grasped a rope which hung from one of the rafters, and swung himself out of reach.

At that moment I spied the open window, and in a second more I was out. Jack was hanging on the rope with a tenacious grip, and the woodchuck was trotting around trying to find an avenue of escape. I ran to the door and threw it open. A dark form whizzed past me, and Jack dropped from the rope. We had had enough woodchuck for one summer.

"What on airth hev you boys been a-doin'?" inquired Farmer Brown as we entered the house.

"Been having some fun with a woodchuck," replied Jack, a little sheepishly.

Farmer Brown laughed, and remarked, as he took a second look at our torn clothes and flushed faces,

"Wa'al, I don' know, but it kinder looks as ef the woodchuck had been a-hevin' fun with you."

And when I think the matter over, I am rather inclined to be of the same opinion.