The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-11-14
Monroe as it is
 On the Game Map
The Hillt0wn Hunters Have Humor Hiking With Their Hits

I1ulllOT I1skltlk VItu
 Their Hits
 Especial to the Farmer, by Arthur
 French)
 Monroe, Nov. 14INow that a certain part of the open season for game shooting closes next week, pe:ila.s some things are not amiss in the N ay of a recount. Monroe hunters agree that, all in all. 1t has been a fairly good season. Partridges there were some, and woodcock in some sections rels there has been and is no end, seemingly. Old hunters put it down as record season and have had an- other guess as to where they all came from. Aside from local hunters, Mon roe has been pretty thoroughly shot over by city sportsmen.E Nowadays they skip up here from Bridgeport by motor car in 30 minutes, loaded with dogs, guns and shooters. You couldn't go through 8 lane, back road, or even a cart path without encounter ing ''hitched'' machine.
 Hunting yarns have come fast to the ears of listeners the past month, as nuts and the pipe, on and about the amen bench of the Stove club. Some of the gamey chronicles herewith. It was a bright night under the Hunt er's'' moon that Bob" Burt and Dwight Burr went cunning for things. stirred up Squirrel and beat the bush to .'beat the band" There was a flash of black and white, or some thing. 'SThere he fgoes,' chortled Burt. Bang! went Burr's gun. It was a dead shot, but the sorrow of it xxrI,0 kran lnA do %1,< kill. was to find that the supposed squirrel was not there, but instead the dog as dead as door nail. Burr made some good by paying $10 as a, bit of 'tall healing balm" Edward Hurd, who lately joined our newly 90 he took out hunting. license. bought a gun and all the fxings and waited. While lhe was waiting, one day in rushed one of his acquaintances who yelled: Get a big wiggle on you, Ed; there's some of a squirrel up a Of the house in minute armed and equipped to shoot things. Sure! There was the big squirrel up a tree for fair. Then Ed banged away to the good, for the game turned over, rolled down and lodged in a crotch. While Hurd was over home getting a ladder, his informant hid behind tree. Up the ladder goes Ed and grabs the squirrel. Yanking the body to get it out of the crotch, things busted" and Ed was sprinkled with about a pint of sawdust from the stuffed" game. To be continued in our next. Oh, the man behind the now through the back lots.
 That's about aIl,'' said the man on the prune box. Game things are about shot up now and-well. talking of Thanksgiving and turkey time and all that. here's one. willed to me by about a week before the turkey got it in the neck. He was a Monroe lad, seventy years ago. "A neighbor own ed a flock of a dozen turks which had gotten 75 per cent. of their. plumpness from grazing on our land, and being was irascible and some more. Then he had shot my fathers pet crow and a boy don't forget. A revenge was planned and heres the recipe: To a pint of rum add quart of corn and let it work two or three days. This was then thrown into the turkeys home lot, and they gorged on it. La ter they acquired a beautiful souse, and the fun began. There were turks staggering about, dead on their backs with legs pointing skyward. tumbling about and .pif1cated' many ways, some acting almost like folks with full ness in.
 There have been more coon hunters than coons in and about Monroe, this year. Somebody alleges this, any, way, and 1t seems so by the coon stor- les scattered, about every day and Sundays. Somewhere between Pepper street and the Salt Box house, when on the illuminating job, coon dog got so busy one night that he fell down an old we'll and stayed there un- til his hunting party extricated him and said some things about the dog gone mishap. Names? Not on your moving picture would I reveal. But talking about cooning things, a man over east was seen to leave his home at p. m. with a gun and dog. A caller next day saw plump turkey hanging on the coon mans woodhouse Said it was roasting in a tree and got hit with a coon shot. 'Can they do that?
 Did you hear about the coon- ing pulled off lately up Turkey Roost way or around Hammertown? No! George Osborne was not in it at all, at all. Two of the trio party were from the city and that's why. They had a borrowed dog on which had been worked only the first cooning degree He got on the chase Of something and the dead game city sports got on chase of the dog. Then there was a run that led up to the railroad way where in the open they saw the dog had led them into a deer stalking drive. Rejoining their left-behind companion in an hours delay, he jol- lied them and added: "I lay down and went to sleep, I dreamt I was awful thirsty and must have got up and shot down that half pint" It's a good thing coons, as a rule, are shot and carried home in the night, as it saves lots of folks from being discovered to be Annanias' CT got the biggest ever." It was in the l Tomcat class weight. 'We had all | we could do to lug 1t home" Wouldn't l tip the scales against a terrier dog. Fishermen are not the only ones that | work fairy tales' on us. There's 1 the coon hunters of Monroe and. Over east in Webb, hunted Ed Tut l tie, last week. For coons? Why, to be certainly. What else? We'll, it had been mighty shy on the raccoon dope, but Ed didn't mind that. He | had a good "dawg", good gun and 1 a good load of confidence aboard, and went forth with force of arms and etcetera. The chronicler fails to state whether he shot over Devils Den way, Pine Swamp or elsewhere At any l rate, he was met by an acquaintance at Il p. m. wheeling home big pump kin as his friend thought, and said :: l Gee flaw! but that some punkin.