Thursday, January 10, 2013
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, May 12, 1906
Despite the verdict of farmers generally that the crow is a blackleg and a thief, the farmers’ bulletin of the U. S. department of agriculture rather takes the part of Mr. Crow. Nevertheless, without the dash and brilliancy of the jay, or the bold savagery of the hawk, the crow is accused of doing more mischief than either.
That he does pull up sprouting corn, destroy chickens, and rob the nests of small birds, has been repeatedly proved, says a farmers’ bulletin. “Nor are these all of his sins. He is known to eat frogs, toads, salamanders and some snakes, all harmless creatures that do some good by eating insects. With so many charges against him it may be well to show why he should not be utterly condemned.
Crow a Sort of Kleptomaniac!
The examination of a large number of stomachs shows that the bird’s nesting habit, as in the case of the jay, is not so universal as has been supposed; and that, so far from being a habitual nest robber, the crow only occasionally indulges in that reprehensible practice. The same is true in regard to destroying chickens, for he is able to carry off none but very young ones.
“In his insect food, however,” continues the bulletin, “the crow makes amends for his sins in the rest of his dietary, although even here the first item is against him. Predacious beetles are eaten in some numbers throughout the season, but the number is not great. Of the insect diet Mr. E. A. Schartz says: “The facts, on the whole, speak overwhelmingly in favor of the crow.
Calls Bird Obnoxious.
“Probably the most important item in his vegetable food is corn, and by pulling up the newly sprouted seeds the bird renders himself extremely obnoxious. Observation and experiments with the tame crows show that hard, dry corn is never eaten if anything else is to be had and if fed to nestlings it is soon disgorged. The reason crows resort to newly planted fields is that the kernels of corn are softened by the moisture of the earth and probably are much more palatable in the process of germination. The fact, however, remains that crows eat extensively only, when it has been softened by germination or partial decay or before it is ripe and still in the milk.”
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Friday, April 27, 1906
Knocked down by a dog, Waldemar Bjork, of Tenth street, had the tip of his nose and one finger bitten off by the raging and frothing animal and both wounds were cauterized by Dr. Bellows late yesterday afternoon to prevent hydrophobia.
The dog is noted as an ugly one, and young Bjork, with other boys, claims that it had been in the habit of following them on their way home from school, snapping at their heels and threatening to bite.
Yesterday they determined to make a stand against the animal and with whips and clubs stopped when it made for them. As it came on they attacked it. Young Bjork was in the van. The beast, not a large but a fierce one, made a lunge at his throat and sent him reeling. Then it tore at his nose and sank its teeth into the white and quivering flesh. Before this it had bitten the boy’s finger. He screamed for aid, but his two boy chums were powerless and older people had the rescue him. He was then taken to Dr. Bellows’ office and the wounds were burned out. The dog will be shot.
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Thursday, April 26, 1906
For swinging a monkey round his head by its tail, George Brown, a showman, was sentenced to twenty-eight days imprisonment in Liverpool.
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Monday, September 10, 1906
Mr. Cain of Galiano Island, British Columbia, had an exciting experience with some deer. While out in his boat for a row he noticed three deer swimming across Whaler’s bay. He gave chase and headed them up a narrow inlet, at the head of which was a steep bluff of rocks with a flat mud beach at the base. The deer made several attempts to jump to the top of the bluff, but were unable to do so. Mr. Cain watched his chance, and when the largest buck made a jump and fell back and rolled over he seized him by the hind leg and tried to hold him on his back until he could kill him with a pocketknife, which was the only weapon he had. He was not able, however, to open his knife, as it was a desperate struggle, which finally ended in the deer regaining his feet, when the whole three bolted off and scampered down the beach. Mr. Cain was left lying prostrate on the beach.
Published in the Sangamo Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Saturday, August 18, 1832
A friend from West Hartford informs us that a drove of nearly two thousand rats, were seen early one morning last week, on their way from this city. They had been driven away, doubtless, by chloride of lime, the smell of which these long tailed individuals seem particularly to abominate. The gardens and roads about the city were “tracked up’ with these four-legged pedestrians, which have fled from before the face of a cholera preventive. Similar facts are recorded in a Providence paper. Rats and mice have vacated barns, cellars, stables and houses, where chloride of lime has been sprinkled. Hartford Mirror.
Published in the Sangamon Journal, Springfield, Illinois on Wednesday, September 6, 1848
If this too much abused and derided hybrid could speak, as did one of his far back ancestors, we should claim from them a vote of thanks, for what we have said, and caused to be said, in favor of their claim to kind consideration and treatment. Many years ago, at our suggestion, for he needed no persuasion, the then remaining survivor of the signers of our Declaration of Independence, the venerable Charles Carroll of Carrolton, offered a piece of plate, with appropriate inscriptions, for the best essay on the mule, in comparison with horses and oxen for farm labor.
An admirable essay, on which the prize was worthily bestowed, was written by that inquisitive and active minded observer and gentleman of various knowledge, Willis Pomeroy of Massachusetts. Since then, we have on various occasions embraced opportunities to vindicate the useful qualities of the mule, even for the saddle, over rough and mountainous roads; and in an essay on “the natural history of the ass and the mule,” written while in the office of assistant P. M. G. we took further occasion to assert the excellence and economy of this underrated animal, as a labor-saving operative on a farm. The reader will see that he occupies the front ground in the design, which illustrates the title and purposes of “the plough, the loom, and the anvil,” but we would not know, if we did not choose to tell him, that the place there now occupied by the mules had been assigned by the artists to a pair of sleek horses; on seeing which, we requested him to stick on a longer pair of ears, and a smaller tail, and to otherwise modify the picture, in such manner as should indicate our preference for them over horses, for farm work. In the fox chase, it might be otherwise. They might not under the saddle, be so ready to go at timber; but when worked hard all day and turned out at night in a bare pasture to starve, as they sometimes are, it is admitted they are not slow to get over or through a fence, by hook or by crook-and who can blame them in such case? As to the longevity of mules, we find in a new work on the culture and manufacture of sugar-cane, describing and comparing the East and West India systems, being the result of the author’s sixteen years’ experience as a sugar planter in these regions, the following: “We know that the average working period of a steer, in Jamaica, [West Indies] under favorable circumstances, is ten years; but when a little care has been taken of them, we may safely reckon on fifteen years, [is not that extraordinary?] whilst a mule, with common care, will work for twenty, thirty, and even forty years. I have had four mules, ranging of an age from forty-five to forty-eight years each, as proved by the most undoubted evidence, and all of them at that age taking their regular spells in turn.-[The Plough, the Loom, and the Anvil.]
Published in the Sangamo Journal-, Springfield,Illinois on Saturday, December 14, 1833
A poor woman who lives in Water street, Philadelphia, was awakened in the course of the night by the faint cry of her infant; but supposing it to be merely the fretfulness of infancy, and wearied with the fatigues of the day, she fell asleep, but again awakened, when getting up and obtaining a light, she beheld a most frightful sight-her child bathed in blood, surrounded by a number of large rats, who were greedily devouring the infant’s flesh. Its face and limbs were horribly mangled, and though amputation of the arm is necessary, the life of the little sufferer may be saved.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Wednesday, April 17, 1907
Trout Killed with a Hammer Masked Lake Fishermen.
“I wore a woolen mask when I caught that fish,” said the angler, pointing to a mounted specimen above the sideboard, “and the thermometer registered 12 degrees below zero at the time. It was lake Michigan. On the lakes the summer fishing will aggregate 130,000,000 pounds a season. There is a winter fishing, too, when men in windmasks sit over little holes in the thick ice and, at a polar temperature watch their tieups. They don’t catch much, but what they do catch they get seven or eight cents a pound for, and thus it is possible for the winter fishermen to earn $12 a day. I’d have earned $17 the day I went out if I sold my fish. The little carp over the mantel was caught with a mirror. My line had a mirror behind the bait. When a fish approached his own reflection made him thick that another fish was about to snatch the bait from him, and he bit greedily. The fine trout above the hole in the carpet I caught with a hammer. What? Yes, a hammer. That is the Georgia way. They wade up and down a stream and whack with a stout sledge every big stone they pass. Then they turn over the stone and find as like as not, a stunned trout underneath.”-New Orleans Times-Democrat.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Published in the Sangamo Journal-, Springfield,Illinois on Thursday, October 21, 1847
A gentleman of our acquaintance a week or two since remarked an unusual collection of brown thrushes in a thicket contiguous to his residence. His attention have been drawn towards them for several successive days, by their loud cries and eccentric movements, he was at length induced to investigate more closely the course of the unwonted congress of his feathered tenants, and ascertain if possible the cause of their excitement. Upon examining the thicket, he discovered a female thrush suspended by one wing to a limb. Near by was her nest, containing several half-grown birds. From the attendant circumstances he concluded that the maternal bird must have become entangled before the process of incubation was completed, and that some kindly hearted neighbor had supplied her place in hatching and brooding her callow offspring. He withdrew a few rods, and the committee of relief immediately resumed the self-imposed duty of administering “aid and comfort” in the form of worms and other insects, alternating between the mother and her young-she, meanwhile cheering them on their labor of love with the peculiar note which first led to the discovery of her situation.
Having watched this exhibition of charity for some half hour our informant relieved the mother bird. She immediately flew to her nest, expressing her gratitude by the sweetest notes. Her charitable friends, their “occupation now being gone,” [as the police reporter says] dispersed to their respective places of abode, singing as they went a song of joy.
The above statement may be relied on in every particular. The many pleasing reflections which it suggests we leave to be recorded by some of our friends abroad.-New Haven herald.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Published in the Waukegan Daily Sun, Waukegan, Illinois on Monday, June 24, 1907
Alton, Ill., June 24. A horde of locusts has settled among the trees of “Hop Hollow,” a popular picnic grounds near here, and driven every songbird out of the woods. The hollow has been marked for its songbird, but all have disappeared under the onslaught of the insects. Crows were the first victims. The locusts are of the variety known as “seventeen-year,” and more are coming every day.