News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1885-06-11

The New York Travelling Man Gets Its
Record and Comes Home Amazed
from the New York SUM-
81 was making trip through Sullivan
county last week." said John Gilbert,
the travelling man, sand, driving by a
barn on farm near Sackett Pond, I saw
a lot of big rat skins nailed on the side
of it. I stopped and counted EN-. There
were 81.
"sHalIo T I shouted to the farmer, who
was at work near the barn. what do
you do with these rat skinsY
'Nothin', said he. 'Them's Snorter's
scalps.' =,
"'Oh + I said. 'Snorter's your dogF
"'No, he ain't,' replied the farmer.
'Snorter's my boss rooster
"'You don't mean to say you've got
chicken that kills rats 7 said.
"'Them's his skins, said the farmer.
"Well, if there was a rat-killing
rooster in the country wanted to see
it, SO I asked the farmer if he would
show him to me. He said he would,
and I jumped out of my wagon and went
with him. He took me around to an
other barnyard and pointed out the
rooster among flock of hens and other
ROSTERS. The ratter was big red
rooster, standing at least two feet high,
and looking as if he might be strong
enough to get away with fox.
"sDunno what his pedigree Is, said
the farmer. 4 bought an old hen three
years ago with brood of three weeks
old chickens. The Shorter was one of
'em, and there he is. I dunno how
many more rats he's killed than them
twenty-one on the barn, for it's only
year ago that found out that he was
ratter. I was waikiki along by the yard
here one DAY, when I heard q great
cacklin' 'mongst the chickens, and the
loud squealin' of rat that there wasn't
no doubt was in trouble. looked an
see that the big rooster was tuggin'
away like mad at rats tail, which he
had ketched as the rat was skippin' into
a hole under the barn. After two or
three steady jerks, out come Mr.. Rat,
an quicker than kin tell We, the rooster
swung it up over his head and slapped
it with all his might agin' that big stone
by the side O the barn. He whacked
it three times, an then chucked the rat
away. There want no more life nor
backbone left in it than there is in a wet
dish rag. Since then we've found
twenty more big rats in the yard. Every
time we found one, we'd find fresh
spatterin' O. blood on the big stone,
and SO we knew that Shorter had done
it. So we nailed their skins on the
barn as we got 'em, an they're known
all over the county as Snorter's scalps. ,
81 noticed that there was big patch
of feathers missing from the ROSTERS
back, and that they were pretty well
thinned out on his neck and one wing.
l asked the farmer what had caused the
damage.
"'Big chicken hawk said the farmer.
That was the incest little tussle L ever
see. Last week one of the biggest
hawks that ever lived was hangin'
round here, sailin' about most O the
time with his eye on my barnyard. One
day I stood over in that field there,
when all of suddent I see sumpin'
drappin' down out O. the sky like big
stone square in the direction of the
barnyard. In second 1 know'd it was
that old hawk, and L started on run
for the yard. When got there the all
firedest hullabaloo was goin' on among
the chickens that I ever listened to, and
there was the Shorter with his jaws
fastened on that hawks neck, and jist a
liftin' him in the air and swattin' him
down on that rock yonder, like my old
woman might whack the dust out'n a
door mat. That hawk want fur from
bein' as big as the rooster, and the
Shorter found out that he hadn't tackled
no durn squeakin' rat. The hawk
thrashed his wings about and clawed
with his toes till the ROSTERS feathers
few around that yard like dead leaves
in gale. But Shorter had the grip o
that iron jaw O. his on the hawks gull
let. and after ten minutes or so the
chicken stealer's caloric give out, and
then the rooster soon pounded the life
out'n him. I'm havin' the hawks skin
stuffed. and tlaa&,u- be-a--scaIe- worth
shown.
cold Shorter won't have no fightin'
goin' on round his premises that he
don't do hisself. Sometimes some O.
the young ROSTERS tries to settle some
grudge by little sparrin' match 'twixt
themselves, but if the old boss is around
he breaks that fight up. He jist slides
over to where the young fellows is
whackin' away at one another, and swats
one this way, and t'other that way, and
jaws and swears at 'em as good as if he
spoke English. The other day he broke
up fight, but he hadn't no sooner
walked away when the two youngsters
was at it agin, tooth and spur. Then
Shorter walked over and ketched one O.
the ROSTERS by the back O. the neck and
carried him out O. the yard, flynn on the
fence with him and droppin' him on
tother side. He KEEP that rooster out
side all day, and the next day every
thing was as peaceable as a Sunday
school picnic.
"'He's queer old cuss about family
matters, too. When hen matches out
her brood, she's got to pass the whole
lot of 'em right over into Snorter's
charge, and he looks after 'em like a
mother. This rather breaks the hens all
up, and so we have to take all the old
hens with chickens and put 'em away by
themselves. That rooster hain't got his
match on the American continent, said
the farmer, and the man that can buy
him don't live.