tricate his foot from the grasp of
the naughty jaws. Do not by any means take pity on him, and lend a
helping hand!

How pretty his face and head! How fine and delicate his teeth, like
a weasel's or a cat's! When about a third grown, he looks so well
that one covets him for a pet. He is quite precocious, however and
capable, even at this tender age, of making a very strong appeal to
your sense of smell.

No animal is more cleanly in his habits than he. He is not an
awkward boy who cuts his own face with his whip; and neither his
flesh nor his fur hints the weapon with which he is armed. The most
silent creature known to me, he makes no sound, so far as I have
observed, save a diffuse, impatient noise, like that produced by
beating your hand with a whisk-broom, when the farm-dog has
discovered his retreat in the stone fence. He renders himself
obnoxious to the farmer by his partiality for hens' eggs and young
poultry. He is a confirmed epicure, and at plundering hen-roosts an
expert. Not the full-grown fowls are his victims, but the youngest
and most tender. At night Mother Hen receives under her maternal
wings a dozen newly hatched chickens, and with much pride and
satisfaction feels them all safely tucked away in her feathers. In
the morning she is walking about disconsolately, attended by only
two or three of all that pretty brood. What has happened? Where are
they gone? That pickpocket, Sir Mephitis, could solve the mystery.
Quietly has he approached, under cover of darkness, and one by one
relieved her of her precious charge. Look closely and you will see
their little yellow legs and beaks, or part of a mangled form, lying
about on the ground. Or, before the hen has hatched, he may find her
out, and, by the same sleight of hand, remove every egg, leaving
only the empty blood-stained shells to witness against him. The
birds, especially the ground-builders, suffer in like manner from
his plundering propensities.

The secretion upon which he relies for defense, and which is the
chief source of his unpopularity, while it affords good reasons
against cultivating him as a pet, and mars his attractiveness as
game, is by no means the greatest indignity that can be offered to a
nose. It is a rank, living smell, and has none of the sickening
qualities of disease or putrefaction. Indeed, I think a good smeller
will enjoy its most refined intensity. It approaches the sublime,
and makes the nose tingle. It is tonic and brac