In tbe Haunts of tbe Hare 375 



ask if they're wanted. I don't want thee, sweet 

 cousin, but I do need thy dog ! " 



Reader, especially female reader, don't raise your 

 eyebrows and sniff. The young woman is a spoiled 

 pet, that's all. Anyway, I'm old enough to be her 

 father, and I taught her to shoot. During some 

 paretic interval I gave her my one rabbit-dog, an 

 overgrown beagle, by name " Boz," and a rare good 

 one. Later I tried to beg him back and was sent 

 to Coventry for a period of one week. So there 

 you are. 



Within half an hour nag and sleigh were ready, 

 and away we went. There was just enough snow for 

 good slipping, and cousin's small hands kept the 

 nag at his best pace until she pulled him up at a 

 farm-house some five miles from the starting-point. 



As we tramped toward the chosen ground, a big, 

 almost impenetrable swamp surrounded by woods, 

 she led the way. I looked her over and she was 

 good to see. The gray " Fedora," with its grouse's 

 plume, closely matched the sweater, easy-fitting 

 cord coat, and short skirt. She was a symphony in 

 gray, with which the stout, oil-tanned boots and 

 scrap of dull crimson ribbon had no quarrel. Very 

 feminine, also foxy, was that wholly unnecessary 

 scrap of ribbon. Two autumns before we had 

 chanced upon a beauteous thing a great frond of 

 crimson sumach draping a mole-gray, mossy rail. 

 That combination I had worshipped there and 

 then, and well, she being a woman, etc. Easy in 

 every movement, she swung along with a business- 

 like stride which would tire many a man, and as I 

 watched I thought with pleasure of the thousands 



