TRAPPING TORUPS.

BY ALLAN FORMAN.

"Say, boys, I have an idea," Charlie Swan announced one morning as he was sitting on the porch of the farm-house where he and his cousins were spending the summer.

"Let's have it," said Jack, one of the cousins.

"Well, it's just this. You know the pond is full of torups. I believe we boys can have some fun catching them."

"Pooh!" interrupted Jack, "we've had that idea for a long time. How are you going to do it?"

"With a trap," answered Charlie, looking very wise.

"Who ever heard of trapping terrapin?"

"I don't see why it can't be done."

"What kind of a trap would you use?"

"Come out to the shop, and I'll show you," replied Charlie.

While the boys are in the shop I will explain, for the benefit of my readers who do not live near the water, what a torup is. It is a member of the turtle family, and closely resembles the far-famed terrapin of Chesapeake Bay, but it differs from the terrapin in that it lives in either fresh or salt water, rather preferring the fresh, and burying itself in the mud for a greater part of the time. Consequently its flesh acquires a muddy flavor that many people do not like. The torup has all the ferocity of the snapping-turtle, and when aroused will display wonderful agility in jumping at its enemies. In common with the rest of the turtle family, it has the peculiarity, as the Irishman expressed it, of "living a long time after it's dead." I have seen one bite through a lead-pencil six hours after the head had been separated from the body. Another trait of the torup, which Charlie meant to take advantage of in making his trap, is that he will crawl into anything or under any log beneath which he can possibly force himself, resistance only seeming to make him more obstinate in the accomplishment of his purpose.

Before long Charlie and his cousins came out of the shop, carrying with them the trap. It was only a box about three feet long, two feet high, and eighteen inches wide. He had taken out one end, and fastened it to the top by two strong hinges, so that it opened inward. About half-way down each side he had driven two pegs, so that the door could be pushed in, but not out. On the bottom were nailed several strips of old iron.

"I don't see how you are going to work it," said Walter, as he followed Charlie toward the pond.

"Well, I'll explain," replied Charlie. "You see that this door is so hung that the torup can push it in and go in, but can't push it out after he gets in."

"Yes."

"Now I shall put a few old bones, with some meat on them, in the box for bait. The torup will smell them, will push up the door, and crawl into the box; then when he tries to get out again, he finds that he can't."

"All right," replied the boys, and in a few minutes Charlie was with them at the edge of the pond, putting the bones in the further end of the box. They sunk it carefully, and Charlie drove a stick on each side, so that it could not be tipped over or dislodged from its place. Nothing now remained to be done but to wait until the next morning.

When the morning came they rushed to the pond, Charlie full of confidence, and his cousins rather disposed to make fun of his trap. When they tried to lift it into the boat they found it quite heavy, and Charlie exclaimed, joyfully, "Its full!"

"Yes, full of water," replied Jack, scornfully.

"We will see," replied Charlie, as he lifted the box into the boat. In a moment more he pulled out the two pegs, and the door swung outward. Out tumbled four large torups.

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. The torups manifested their dissatisfaction by snapping viciously as the boys came near them.

After that the box was set several times with varying results, and the boys did a good work in destroying a large number of torups; for not only do they make it almost impossible for fish to live in a pond, but they will also destroy young ducks by catching them by the feet and dragging them beneath the water, where they devour them alive.