inoon rises above the trees, and the cottontails 

 start over. Now, of course, they use the paths 

 which they cut so carefully the longest possible 

 way round. They hop leisurely along, stopping 

 now and then to nibble the sassafras bark or to 

 get a bite of wintergreen, even quitting the path, 

 here and there, for a berry or a bunch of sweet 

 wood-grass. 



"Stop a moment; this won't do ! Here is a side- 

 path where the briers have grown three inches 

 since they were last cut off. This path must be 

 cleared out at once," and the old buck falls to cut- 

 ting. By the time he has finished the path a dozen 

 rabbits have assembled in the clover-field. When 

 he appears there is a thump, and all look up ; some 

 one runs to greet the new-comer ; they touch 

 whiskers and smell, then turn to their eating. 



The feast is finished, and the games are on. 

 Four or five of the rabbits have come together 

 for a turn at hop-skip-and-jump. And such hop- 

 skip-and-jump ! They are professionals at this 

 sport, every one of them. There is not a rabbit 

 in the game that cannot leap five times higher 

 than he can reach on his tiptoes, and hop a clean 

 ten feet. 



[147] 



