day School book style, the circumstances of an
excursion after woodcock, the other day, indulged in by W.C. Root, the
Wisconsin amateur Bogardus, Jennings McDonald, Captain of a breech-loading
steamboat, and the subscriber. In the first place, it may be well to state
that the woodcock, or "Timber Doodle," as Prof. Agassiz calls it, is a
game bird. We know it is a game bird, because they charge a dollar apiece
for them in New York. The meat is about as sweet as deceased cow's liver,
but they are worth a dollar apiece. The "Timber Doodle" is a patriotic
bird, because he gets ripe on the 4th of July. He is about the size of a
doughnut, with a long bill, like a lawyer.

We took passage per skiff at twelve o'clock. If there was one drawback, it
was the fact that the oar-locks of the boat had been mislaid. After
consuming an hour in not finding them, Frank Hatch became discouraged at
seeing us lay around the levee, so he tied the oars on with tarred rope
and we got off, three of us besides the other dogs. The water was so high
that we crossed Barron's island, only having to get out and pull the boat
over two or three sand-bars and a raft or two. Every time we got out to
pull the boat, the dogs would get out to look for woodcock, around the
stumps, and when they got in the boat would be full of water and mud, and
of course we had our best clothes on. Did it ever occur to you how much
water a dog could carry in his hair? A dog is worse than a sponge. An
ordinary dog, with luck, can fill a skiff with water at two jumps. Not,
however, with us in the boat to bail out the water. The woodcock's tail
sticks up like a sore thumb. We are thus particular to describe
the woodcock, so if you ever see one you can go right away from him.
Woodcock and mosquitoes are in "cahoots." While the woodcock bores in the
ground for snakes and other feed that makes him fat and worth a dollar in
New York, the mosquito stands on the ramparts and talks to the boys.

Well, speaking about woodcock, after riding five miles, through bushes,
brambles and things, we got out of the boat and only had to walk a couple
of miles to get where the birds were. Right here we wish to state that we
shouldn't have gone after the woodcock at all, only everybody said it was
such fun. Root showed us a picture of a woodcock in a book, and if that
didn't convince us, the fact that a small boy came in town and sold three
dozen, did. Then we wanted to go. There never has been a ye