WorldCat.org is a website that catalogues the worlds books and periodicals. There is not a
great description of Everyland magazine, so I have created a PDF of one
complete issue of the
July “Philipino” issue. In the
process of digitizing ‘My Funny Pets’ by Verrill, the
story of the Big Brown Bear on PEI
was a remainder, since digital, it is published as well./drf
My Funny Pets
By A. Hyatt Verrill
Everyland magazine, July 1916 from the column ‘Everyland Nature Club’ Care of Everyland, 156 Fifth Avenue, New York
City, digitized by Doug Frizzle Dec. 2011.
NEARLY all boys and girls are
fond of pets, and ever since I can remember I've owned odd and curious birds
and animals; and whenever I've been in queer, out-of-the-way
places I have managed to obtain peculiar furred or feathered
companions. I would like to tell Everyland
readers all about the many
strange, funny, and interesting creatures I have had in tropical lands, but as
this is not possible I'll try to tell the
Nature Club about some pets I had in Central America.
My first was a native deer
named Pepito. He was given to me when he was a little spotted fawn, and as he
grew older and larger he became so tame he would follow me about like a dog.
When we lived in the town, Pepito
was kept in the open court or patio
of the house, where he ran about at
will among the flowers and grass and
could drink or bathe at the fountain in the
center. But we often made long trips into the
country and Pepito always accompanied us. On the
train he was perfectly at home, running up and down the
center of the car, making friends
with the conductor and passengers.
When at last we reached the little village where we stayed, a red or blue
ribbon was tied about Pepito's neck and he was free to go where he pleased. All
about were mountains covered with forests full of wild deer and other animals, and every morning Pepito would trot
off into the woods to spend the day with his wild cousins. Often, when out
hunting, I would see a herd of deer and would be surprised to see Pepito come
running from among them to greet me.
Sometimes, when the others saw how fearless he was and that I did not
molest them, they
too would come close and would follow a short distance away as I walked along
with Pepito.
When the
deer was about half grown a young peccary or wild pig was brought to us by a
native hunter. These animals are usually fierce and vicious and hard to tame,
but this little chap, which we called Chico,
was an exception and from the first
was very docile and affectionate. He would jump to my lap to be scratched,
grunt at our door to wake us in the
morning, and followed us everywhere we went.
He and Pepito soon became
fast friends and inseparable comrades, and it was a funny sight to see the two trotting up the
mountain path side by side on their
way to the woods. All the hunters knew Pepito by his ribbon and took care
not to shoot him by mistake, and to protect Chico we tied a bell about his neck.
Several months after Chico was added to the family a friend gave us a tame white-faced
monkey named Tito. He was a very comical, inquisitive chap. His favorite toy
was an old, battered doll, and he would carry this about for hours at a time
and was most dejected if it was taken away or mislaid. But Tito's funniest
trick, and the one which gave him the greatest pleasure, was to wait in the doorway and, as the
peccary ran by, spring on the
latter's back and have a free ride. Chico
did not mind this, and in fact I think he really enjoyed it as much as the monkey did.
One day the monkey caught sight of the
deer, and thinking Pepito would prove a better mount than the peccary he sprang on his back. The deer had
never experienced such a sensation before and was frightened almost out of his
wits. Evidently his first thought was to make for the
woods, and he dashed off with the
delighted monkey clinging fast to his back and chattering with joy at his fine
ride.
Around the
house there was a barbed wire fence,
and when Pepito reached this he sprang through between the
wires without the slightest
hesitation. There was plenty of room for him but there
was no space for his rider, and the
poor monkey was swept from his seat and left hanging on the
sharp barbs. He was badly cut, but he had learned a lesson, and from that time
on Pepito's appearance threw him into a fit of rage and fear.
Perhaps the oddest of all the
pets I had in Central America was a queer
creature known as a kinkajou, or fruit bear. This animal grows to be three feet
or more in length and has a little round head, solemn black eyes, sharp teeth,
and strong claws. The hair is thick, woolly, and dull yellow in color, but the most remarkable things about the kinkajou are its tail and its tongue. Both are
very long and both are prehensile, or, in other
words, they can be used like hands.
Kinkajous are very fond of
honey, and if they cannot get it in
any other way they
will reach their long tongues into the bees' nests and lick the
honey from the comb. You can imagine
that such a creature would make a very interesting pet, and I can't begin to
tell you all the funny, unusual
things our pet kinkajou did. He was just as curious as a monkey and was forever
getting into mischief, but after licking out the
contents of an ink-bottle or pulling over the
furniture with his tail, he would climb up on my shoulder in such an innocent
way and cuddle down in such a confident manner that his misdeeds were always
forgiven.
But his curiosity and his
"handy" tail proved fatal to him at last. One night he pulled a
bottle of jam from a high shelf and with his ever-ready tongue licked up the jam and broken glass together.
Even a kinkajou's tough stomach cannot stand such a diet and the following day he died.
Besides these pets we had many others;
such as sloths, macaws, parrots, toucans, raccoons, foxes, and even a young
jaguar. The last would follow me about like a dog and was very gentle and
affectionate with us, but his strength was so enormous and he used teeth and
claws so freely on strangers or any one to whom he took a dislike that finally
I was obliged to put him in a cage and send him to a menagerie.
The Story of a Big Brown Bear As I Heard My Mother Tell It
By Regina F. Cowan
THE northern
end of Prince Edward Island
was sparsely settled in the year
1834, when my father leased a farm
at Sea Cow Pond. There's a legend that the
place derived its name from a herd of sea-cows which were driven ashore during
a terrific storm and perished there.
My mother
went to housekeeping in a log cabin of two rooms. The front door opened by
pulling a thong attached to a latch on the
inside, and a wooden button secured the
door at night. The upstairs was a small unfinished loft, reached by a ladder. A
hatch covered the entrance to the loft. Crude cod and whale oil in tin lamps and
home-made tallow candles were used for illuminating. The house was heated by an
open fireplace. Part of the cooking
was done on a crane and roasts were prepared in a Dutch oven in front of the fire. An unfailing spring well furnished what
seemed the most delicious water on
this continent, with its old oaken bucket.
My father
was out on business one evening, and baby Margaret was asleep when Mother heard something moving outside. She looked out
of the window and there stood a big brown bear, his fore paws resting
on the window-sill and his wild eyes
fastened on the sleeping babe. Mother trembling with fear rushed to the cradle, tenderly pressed her treasure to her
breast, and with haste and all the
strength she could command climbed the
ladder and laid the baby on a
sheepskin mat. She came down again and looked for something to give the hungry animal. A box of dried codfish was found,
and removing the small window mother threw out a large supply to Bruin, who at this
time was trying to break through the
door. The bear tore the fish in
pieces and ate ravenously and picking up the
remainder started off.
When my father returned, he found a very frightened mama. He
vowed that he would not rest until he could get a shot at old Bruin. He did not
have long to wait. Within a week Mr. Bear called to pay another visit and my father
saluted him with an English rifle, and —Mother
slept that night.
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