Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, February 10, 1877
The Montreal Witness contains the following: Yesterday evening a reporter for a morning contemporary was engaged writing up his items, when he suddenly and quite unintentionally furnished an item himself. He was so engrossed in describing the mysteries of the Police court, that he did not notice an ancient and wise-looking rat who was out on a prospecting tour, and was examining minutely the mud about the bottom of the reporter’s pantaloons. The mud seemed of good quality, and the rat began to nibble it; the reporter became conscious of something unusual going on about his pedal extremities, and gave a kick, when the trouble began. The rat made a spring and commenced a voyage up the leg of the reporter’s pantaloons; the reporter gave a jump and a howl of astonishment, upset his chair, nearly overturning the table, and yelling thieves, while the rat squealed murder as plainly as a rat can. The rat continued his explorations until the pantaloons got too tight for him to go higher. Then he took a good hold of the reporter’s thigh, and the reporter took a good grip on him and began to dance. The reporter is an exemplary young man, and is not given to Terpsichorean exercises; but when the compositors and clerks from the business office, attracted by his cries, entered the room, they found him cutting such fantastic capers that they thought he was either crazy, or was practicing a new fling for the St. Andrew’s Society ball. Still the rat held on, and still the reporter kept his grip. The situation was becoming serious. How was the rat to be got out? At last a brilliant idea struck the reporter. He began to take off his pantaloons, still holding the rat, and, when he had removed them, a general onslaught was made on the unfortunate rodent, and he was quickly dispatched, a compositor almost decapitating him with a column ruler.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, April 28, 1877
It is not often that we hear any credit rendered to the cat for either intelligence or affection, and it is therefore pleasing to be able to record an instance in which one if not both of these qualities is shown in a remarkable manner in this animal. A gentleman writing from India recently to a friend in England, says of a pet Persian cat; “I was lolling on the sofa, drowsily reading the newspaper, a few mornings ago, when Tom came and stood near me meowing in a plaintive way, as if to attract attention. Not wishing to be disturbed, I waved him off. He, however, returned in a minute or so, and this time jumped on the sofa, and, looking me in the face, renewed his noise more vigorously. Losing patience, I roughly drove him away. He then went to the door of an adjoining room, and stood there meowing most piteously. Fully aroused, I got up and went towards him. As I approached he made for the farther corner of the room, and began to show fight, bristling up and flourishing his tail. It at once struck me that an unwelcome visitor was in the room which Tom wished to get ride of; and sure enough, in looking toward the corner, I discovered a cobra coiled up behind a boot-shelf under a dressing table. The noise made by our approach aroused the snake, and he attempted to make off, but I dispatched him with my gun, which was ready loaded close by. You should have seen Tom’s satisfaction. He ran between my legs, rubbing himself against them caressingly, as to say, “Well done, master!” The snake measured five feet seven inches in length.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, June 9, 1877
While at the residence of Almon Webb in the township of Antioch the other day, we witnessed a somewhat novel spectacle, it being nothing less than the caressing of a pair of young coons by a cat which had adopted them. Some two or three weeks since someone in the neighborhood killed an old coon and, on looking around, found its nest of four young ones, apparently but a day or two old. Two of these he took to the house and attempted to raise “by hand,” but both died. The other two were given to Mr. Webb. As they looked very much like young kittens it occurred to him that possibly he might impose them upon the house cat, just then rejoicing in a newly born litter of kittens. Accordingly he disposed of all the kittens but one and placed the coons in the nest with the most satisfactory results, the old cat apparently never mistrusting but what they were a part of her family and giving them every possible attention. The adopted children are growing finely, being nearly half the size of their stepmother and as tame and docile as though they were by nature designed as domestic animals.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, August 4, 1877
At Volo, the other day,we saw Mr. Carpenter, the village blacksmith, fitting wooden shoes to a pair of horses to enable them to work upon swampy land. Each shoe consists of a block of wood about 8 inches square, the calks fitting into the wood and a bail passing over the foot and fastening it to the shoe. A horse will travel a little awkwardly at first, but very soon becomes accustomed to them. By their use many of the swamps and sloughs formerly cut with scythes are now mowed with machines. it is the custom to remove the shoes at night.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, July 7, 1877
Yesterday afternoon the writer witnessed a strange sight in the record office. Our attention was attracted by several lusty squeaks from the inside of a pail, almost full of water into which a half-grown mouse had fallen. The alarm had hardly died away before four or five more mice appeared on the scene, and began clambering to the top edge of the pail. For several moments after gaining the top of the pail and catching sight of the mouse in the water a squeaking conference was held.
First one mouse and then another would cling to the rim of the bucket with his hind legs, and while almost touching the water with his nose, squeak out either consolating or advice to the immersed; but while all this was going on the swimming powers of the unfortunate mouse in the pail were rapidly giving out. At last a happy thought seemed to strike the biggest mouse in the crowd, and almost without a squak he firmly fastened his fore feet to the edge of the pail and let his body and tail hang down. The drowning mouse saw it, and making a last desperate effort for life, swam to the spot, seized the tail of his brother mouse, and amid squeaks of delight from all the mice present, was hauled high and dry out of the water and over the edge of the bucket.-Corinne Record.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, July 14, 1877
Last week a man named Selden Hanscom, who lives in Chatham, Carroll county, rode to a neighbors to get two small pigs, carrying them home in a basket in his wagon. On the way home, at about 10 o’clock in the evening, he saw an animal beside the road which he at first thought was a very large dog. It turned out to be a black bear, which attempted to spring into the wagon between the forward wheels and the horse. Hanscom, finding that he had got to fight, seized hold of the bear’s head, and by chance happened to clutch into her nostrils. Being a very muscular man, he held his grip, the hind feet of the bear dragging on the ground, and thus they were dragged by the horse over twenty rods. Hanscom shouted for help but no one heard him. His strength failed him, and the bear making another spring, freed herself and fell outside the wagon, and Hanscom got away. The bear was accompanied by her cubs.-Manchester [N. H.} Mirror.
Published in the Chicago Tribune, Chicago, Illinois on Sunday, August 4, 1878
Unless the Brazilians are guilty of very large story-telling, the snake they call the surucucu is braver far more than the buffalo, for it is averred that, if a fire be kindled in the woods, these creatures glide out of their hiding-places, dash straight at the obnoxious thing, and scatter its embers with their tails; persisting, even through half roasted, until the fire is utterly extinguished. If a man carries a torch near their haunts, they pass and repass him, lashing his legs until he drops it, when a surucucu immediately coils itself about it and puts out the flame. A diminutive terrier of our acquaintance used to act on the same principle, although his hatred of fire was a limited one. He had no objection to it in its proper place, and would complacently contemplate the parlor fire, let it blaze never so merrily, without so much as a wink; but the sight of a lighted piece of paper roused Tiny’s ire and set him to barking grievously and if the paper was thrown on the floor, he went for it at once, deftly contriving to stamp out the flame without burning his toes.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, September 8, 1877
During the recent severe fire on the big meadow below Plover, the water in Buena Vista creek became so heated that large numbers of its fish died. One account says that barrels of them were picked out by the people, who went there for that purpose. This is probably the first instance on record where people have been permitted to gather cooked fish directly from the stream, in which but a few moments before they were swimming in the full enjoyment of robust health.-Stevens Point Journal.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, September 1, 1877
The fox which Mr. Fairgrieves now has occupies a yard back of the store, to which Mr. Fairgrieves’ dog has free access. The dog and fox are great friends. They frolic together, play “no end” of jokes on each other, and live in the most perfect harmony, save at ‘meal time.” The discussion that a choice bit will call forth is sometimes most interesting. Mr. Fairgrieves gave the fox a bone the other day. The dog had been taught by experience that it was no use for him to try to capture it, so he retired into the store to watch the proceedings, doubtless hoping something would turn up in his favor. The fox ate what he wanted of the bone and preferred to lay it away for future use. The dog pricked up his ears, but yawned and betrayed no especial interest.
The fox dug a deep hole, placed the juicy bone in the bottom, and covering it over with earth, “patted” it down. He then went into his kennel, brought out an old bone that he had kept away from the dog for several days “out of pure cussedness,” placed it in the hole over the sweet one, covered it up with apparent care and returned to his kennel to watch operations. The dog saw the fox safely housed, and, as he had done before, stealthily approached the treasure, resurrected the dry bone and trotted off.-Somerest [Me.] Reporter.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, February 1, 1879
    Capt. Kennedy, a resident of Nucees county, Texas, owns a tract of land containing 350 square miles, on which are pastured 45,000 cattle, 15,000 horses and mules, and 7,000 hogs.