THE RABBIT AND THE HARE 41 



that the rabbit always covers her nest and young 

 with a little blanket, usually made of fur plucked 

 from her own breast. 



The rabbit seems to suffer very little from 

 the deep snows and severe cold of winter. The 

 deeper the snow, the nearer she is brought to 

 the tops of the tender bushes and shoots. I see 

 in my walks where she has cropped the tops of 

 the small, bushy, soft maples, cutting them slant- 

 ingly as you would with a knife, and quite as 

 smoothly. Indeed, the mark was so like that of 

 a knife that, notwithstanding the tracks, it was 

 only after the closest scrutiny that I was con- 

 vinced it was the sharp, chisel-like teeth of the 

 rabbit. She leaves no chips, and apparently 

 makes clean work of every twig she cuts off. 



The hare is nocturnal in its habits, and though 

 a very lively creature at night, with regular 

 courses and run-ways through the wood, is en- 

 tirely quiet by day. Timid as he is, he makes 

 little effort to conceal himself, usually squatting 

 beside a log, stump, or tree, and seeming to 

 avoid rocks and ledges where he might be par- 

 tially housed from the cold and the snow, but 

 where also — and this consideration undoubtedly 

 determines his choice — he would be more apt to 

 fall a prey to his enemies. In this, as well as in 

 many other respects, he differs from the rabbit 



