y fox and poach the eggs of my
pheasants.

Besides, I am rather ignorant of the care of game, and I would like to
be able to instruct my game-keeper when I go away as to his duties.

The game-keeper at Slipperyelmhurst is what might be called a self-made
game-keeper. He never had any instruction in his profession, aside from
a slight amount of training in high-low-jack. Therefore he has won his
way unassisted to the position he now occupies.

What I wish most of all is to understand the methods of preserving game
during the winter so that when it is scarce in the spring I can take a
can-opener and astonish people with my own preserves.

My fox succeeded in getting through the summer in fine form. I got him
from Long Island where the sportsmen from New York had tried to hunt him
for several seasons, but with indifferent success. He was not well
broken in the first place, I presume, and the noise of the hounds and
domesticated Englishmen in full cry no doubt frightened him. He is still
timid and more or less afraid of the cars. He shies, too, when I lead
him past an imitation Englishman. He is in good health, this fall,
however, and as I got him at a low price I am greatly pleased. Very
likely the reason he did not give good satisfaction in New York was that
those who used him did not employ a good earth-stopper. Much depends on
this man. Of what use is an active, robust and well-broken fox, well
started, if he be permitted to get back into his hole? I have employed
as an earth-stopper a gentleman who saws my wood during the winter and
who assists us in fox-hunting in the hunting season.

Born in a quiet little rural village called Martelle, in Pierce county,
Wisconsin, he early evinced a strong love for sport. Day after day he
would abstain from going to school that he might go forth into the woods
and study the habits of the chipmunk. For five years his health was
impaired to such a degree that he was not well enough to safely attend
school, but just barely robust enough to drag himself away to a distance
of fourteen miles, where he could snare suckers and try to regain his
health. To climb a lightning-rod and skin off the copper wire for
snaring purposes with him was but the work of a moment. To go joyously
afield day after day and drown out the gopher, while other boys were
compelled to gopher an education, was his chief delight.

As a result of this course he is not a close student of books, but he
can skin a s