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I am a reader of your magazine. I am interested in dog stories.

Those who say, train your own, I sure agree with them. Now boys, don't think I am trying 10 run down your hounds, because I am not.I am only giving some of the farmer boys a lip. I donít claim to be an expert trapper, but I manage to make a good living in the winter.

I only tend about three dozen traps, for muskrats. About three years ago along about the time paw paws were getting ripe, I got my steel rod down out of the wood shed, and I thought I would see if the cat fish was biting. I filled the lantern up and took my rifle and fish pole and started back to the creek. I heard something behind me, turning I saw my stub-tailed beast, or in other words, my fox-terrier. I spoke to him and he began to jump up and down at my side. I was getting into the woods and I began to look around for something to shoot for bait. I heard a lot of crows making an awful fuss, and when I turned the hill 1 saw three of them fighting an owl. I saw Mr. Owl go in a hole in a dead stub and one crow lit on it making an ideal target. I took a rest on a beech tree and pulled the trigger there was a dull thud and Mr. Crow left his perch. I hurried to the spot but the dog beat me and pulled about all the feathers out of him. I found I had hit him in the breast.

On arriving at the creek, I fixed a good bait, but at the end of about two hours, I found out that the bait didn't suit them. I did manage to catch one, but it happened to be a sunfish.

So disgusted, I started for home, it was getting dark so I lit the lantern. On entering the woods, I saw the dog was tracking something. He was sure cutting some shines around there. I sort of hushed him up a little and he looked up a tree and sat down and looked at me in a puzzled way. Looking I saw an opossum looking down at me. I got a stick and tried to punch him out, but he hung on that much tighter and only grinned. I tried to show it to the dog, but he couldn't see it, so I pulled my coat and up I went. I bent the limb over and the dog spied him. That was the first time he ever barked treed and he sure did his bit. Mr. Opossum sort of got nervous and started back the limb where I was standing. I kicked him but lost my balance and the result was a couple of skinned shins. When I looked around I was sitting on the ground the dog had the opossum shaking it. I took it away from him for I didn't want him to kill it and I decided I would have some fun. After the dog disappeared I dropped the opossum and went away a few feet. He acted like he was dead at first, but after seeing he was free went in the thicket and disappeared. I sat and waited on a stump until I thought he had gotten a good start, and called the dog, but no dog came. I let out a war squeal that made the woods ring, and the English I used would have made a preacher turn green with envy.

Just then I heard something that made me hush, for over the hill I heard the dog fighting something and the next minute I heard his keen sharp barks, and smelled something that convinced me what he had found. On arriving I found him circling a skunk. I managed to get him by the collar and lead him away, but he sure hated to go.

As soon as the season opened, this little dog just added fifty dollars to my catch of furs that season. He has been improving a lot in the last two years. I am going to ask for a partner in October to trap the Kankakec swamps.

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