Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1913-02-25
Johns Letter.

Have any of you good people of Paris
been fortunate enough to catch a heet-
ing glimpse Of that unholy Terror whose
fayorite stamping ground appears to be
Maple Hill in Auburn? However, he, or
she, sometimes wanders away from the
prescribed haunts. Not long ago he, or
she, was supposed to be aiming for
South Paris over old Streaked. johnnie
get your gunr But the chances are
that you will have your labor for your
pains, as, from last accounts, he, or she,
has returned to the place that is near
and dear to his, or her, heart. If you are
a man of blood start forthwith for Maple
Hill, Auburn, Maine, and join the rush.
Several gunner and those who were
gunless have seen the Terror, and the
description IL correct, would warrant one
In calling him, or her, an American
panther. 1t may be a rhinoceros, but
we don't think so, nor any kind OF a
bear, as he, or she, is not destitute OF a
tail, and for that reason IL cannot be a
lynx nor look severe-although that is
not the way to spell il, or didn't used to
be in the little Red School House sixty
years ago.
Speaking OF the wild aud dangerous
animals that infest the woods OF Maine
reminds us of play that was billed for
a tragedy, in which we acted one of the
leading parts, but W. ich proved to be a
comedy. The time was some forty-tive
years ago, and the place was in the (then)
back town of Rumford. 1t was night
and ID was dark. The stage setting was
apine grove, grassy path and board
fence. The comedy was opened by a
big but invisible body jumping on to the
top board of the fence, and his opening
salutation was the voice of tragedy,
blood .curdling and heart sickening-the
Terror that walks by night"
In your superior wisdom you might say
that it was nothing but house cat, and
that We were struck with stage fright
there in the darkness. Now look herel
We know cats. We were brought up
with cats from early childhood to ex-
treme old age. The voice of the cat is
familiar to Us as household words-all its
intonations and infections, from purr to
caterwaul, we could identify in the dark
est night there has ever been since chaos
with our eyes shut and our hands tied
behind us.
Our favorite idea was, and is, that the
creature was lynx or bob. As We
had no matches We struck no light to as
certain il nature had furnished tail. II
memory be not at fault we made record
time for home and mother, knocking
down the forgotten bars that were hid
den in darkness across the way of our
going. We got there unscarred and
thankful that the Terror, tailless or
otherwise, had not ripped US up the back
noa slit us down the abdomen.
We have passed through many hidden
physical dangers while treadiug our way
through the tall timber and blueberry
bushes Of dear old Maine, and never re-
ceived scratch and seldom a scare,
thanks to our guardian angel or the scar
city of panthers and the creatures that
bite and rend. Could the same be said OF
the moral and spiritual dangers that Turk
and lure, we know Of no reason why we
might not have been a fit subject for
translation. Can a man touch pitch
without defilement, or play hide and
seek among the DEVILS pots and kettles
and not get smutch! What?
JOHN.