EXCEPT in South America and Australia, Foxes are distributed over all the great continents. There are known to be between twenty-five and thirty species. They differ from the dog family in the greater sharpness of the nose and the greater length and bushiness of the tail.

The Red Fox of eastern North America is closely allied to the common Fox of Europe, and is regarded by many naturalists as only a variety of the common species, an opinion which is somewhat confirmed by the fact that no remains of the Red Fox have been found in the cave deposits, although remains of the Grey Fox have been. It is larger than the common Fox of Europe, the fur longer and softer, and the color more brilliant. It is said that it does not possess the wind of the English Fox. It runs for about a hundred yards with great swiftness, but its strength is exhausted in the first burst, and it is soon overtaken by a Wolf or a mounted horseman. In Canada and the United States it is largely hunted for its valuable fur, many thousands of skins being annually exported. The Fox is exceedingly shy and difficult of approach, owing probably to the persistency with which it is hunted by the fur traders. Only the Red and Grey Foxes are hunted. There are several permanent colors of this species similar to those found in our Squirrels, the young presenting a variety of colors in the same litter. In Ohio and others of the middle states, Foxes are said to be hunted as follows: On an appointed day, the whole of the population of the neighborhood turn out and inclose as large a tract of country as possible, all hands leisurely advancing toward some point near the center of the circle; as they advance a great noise is made that the game may be driven before them. When the circle is quite small, and the Foxes are seen running about looking for an opening by which to escape, small boys are sent in with directions to catch the animals, a task which is not accomplished without much exertion and perhaps a few bites. When a Fox is caught, it is sold to pay the expenses of the hunt.

Fox hunting as practised in England was transported to this country as early as the middle of the eighteenth century. In the mother country it is one of the greatest pleasures accorded to the titled gentry; the Horses are bred for the purpose, and a first-class hunter commands a large price. Many Virginia planters of leisure and means were accustomed before the Civil War to keep a number of Hounds, and with the best riders of the neighboring county, frequently held their "meets," when, with horn and whipper-in, and all other accompaniments, according to true English Fox-hunting rules, they would start Reynard and follow him to the death. The wealthy and leisure class of New York pursue the sport in true English style in many places on Long Island.

When pursued, the Fox gives out a strong, disagreeable scent, which lies so long on the ground that it may be perceived for nearly an hour after he has passed. Of its cunning when pursued, many tales are related, such as driving another Fox out of its lair and forcing it to substitute itself as the chase; diving into a heap of manure, to throw the dogs off the scent; fording streams, doubling on its track, and so forth.

Like the Squirrels, Foxes vary in size and color according to the countries in which they live. Their habits are mostly nocturnal, that is to say, they prowl around after dark.

By day the Fox lies concealed in his burrow—if he owns a house of that sort—or else in the depths of some thicket. Toward evening he goes out in search of something to eat—Hare, Rabbit, Pheasant, Mouse, or Bird.

Reynard, as the Fox is often called, does not attempt to chase the Hare, for it would be too swift for him, nor the Rabbit, for it would quickly dive into its hole, nor the Pheasant, for it would fly away. No, indeed! Mr. Fox is too cunning for that. He just quietly creeps to some place where Hares or Rabbits or Pheasants are likely to pass, and then as they run by him, out he pounces and secures his evening meal.

When the Rabbit has a nest full of little "Bunnies," she takes good care to keep them at the end of the burrow. It is too small for the Fox to creep into, so she thinks they are safe. But Mr. Fox finds a way, a much better way, he thinks, to get at the little, soft, furry things, which will hardly make him a meal anyway. He sniffs around, locates the spot right above the the burrow, digs downward, and soon—well, when he gets through there are no "Bunnies" in the nest. Mr. Fox smiles, winks one eye, and trots off.

Sometimes he steals into a hen-roost, and woe to nearly every chicken in the roost. He eats all he can, carries some of them home, and the remainder he buries for future use.

"Cunning as a Fox." That is an old saying, you know, and we apply it to persons who take advantage of their fellow beings.

However, no matter how great a rascal the Fox is, we must pity him when pursued for "sport" by a pack of hounds, as well as men and women. When irritated or alarmed, the Fox gives off a strong, disagreeable scent, which lies so long on the ground that it may be perceived for nearly an hour after he has passed. He has been known to dive into a heap of manure to throw the dogs off the scent; jumping over a wall, run a little way, come back again, lie under the wall until all the dogs had passed, then leap a second time over the same place where he had passed before, and make off on his old track.