Everything must be thoroughly washed before he will eat it. Nothing suits him better than a good fat chicken, and in a chicken coop he will kill a number of them and then hunt a place to sleep off the effect of his too great feast. He enjoys muskrats, and I believe that when you find him along the open ditches he is watching for them. His teeth fit him for a flesh diet altogether, and these, if he only thought so, would enable him to put up a stiff fight, as indeed he does at times. But he usually "plays possum" by feigning death, and he is a crafty fellow at this.

His hind feet are webbed, which adapts him for swimming, but he does not like it very well, and will avoid it if he can. His track in the snow resembles a muskrat's so closely that it is hard to distinguish from the latter. The young, numbering from two to seven "cute" little fellows, are carried about with the mother in a pouch in her abdomen.

He has a relish for onions that would tickle a chef. And what an appetite! And he likes bird eggs and bumblebee honey, and with flesh that is putrid he is a classy epicurean.

THE MINK.

The mink is universally hated by every poultry raiser and farmer. No more destructive animal, unless it be the weasel, lives on the farm, and once the taste of fresh blood touches his palate his thirst knows no bounds. Often in the poultry house, twentyfive to thirty nice chickens are the sacrifice of his love for blood. And many are the clever ruses he will use to get into a poultry house.

He is one of the most inquisitive of animals. A noise will draw him from his safest retreat. But keep back and have your finger on the trigger. He will poke his head out to see what is the matter, but you must keep quiet. His inquisitiveness has caused his undoing many times.

He is a regular "cannibal” for fish and at times, where he can procure them easily, he will live exclusively on a fish diet. He is also a lover of crayfish and frogs when he desires a change of diet. As a fisherman he is an expert. A friend told me of seeing a dozen

fair-sized bull-heads piled up in a muskrat house under the ice, the store of a mink.

The mink is fastidious, and keeps his silky brown black fur looking fine, always carefully and well brushed. His lithe body allows him to stroke the hair and keep it in perfect shape.

He will stand on lookout for an hour at a time for a muskrat, and he is generally rewarded for his vigil. It seems the mink knows about the time the muskrat leaves his home, and he sits near the entrance. A short fight and it is over, and the rat is dragged to a good location, or to his own home.

Many times a mink will walk on a rail fence. Several years ago I tracked one for over thirty rods on a board fence which ran through a swamp. Why he desired to walk on the fence was a mystery to me, unless it was because there had been a heavy fall of damp snow which made traveling difficult. The big-footed mink are generally small fellows and their fur is not as good as that of the others.

THE WEASEL.

I have often wondered whether the weasel ever got tired. You can track one for miles and his tracks will seem to have no end. It is under a stump here, in a hollow log there, now in a woodchuck hole. Always it comes out either at the entrance or some other place, and goes on. A weasel scems never to rest except when he is thoroughly satiated with blood. He is then too lazy to move.

A page from my notebook for June 22, 1902: Saw an old weasel with three young; they were of a velvety dark brown color, with eyes of blue black that seemed to stick from their heads like the eyes of mice. They were out hunting, the young leading with the mother following. They were marching down an old rail fence much overgrown with brush, an ideal place for mice, birds and squirrels. The young were making a purring noise, much like a bunch of young kittens at play; in fact I thought it came from kittens at first. The notes were somewhat musical and sounded like "wick-chee-chee, wick-chee." This no doubt was their first lesson in the science of catching their food. As I watched them one of the young scented a mouse, and such a time as they had! The