AN OCTOBER DIARY. 371 



the fields bj dogs. "Why sliould they not pass that 

 same way at night, and without special purpose ? At 

 the foot of the only walnut-tree in the gully the two 

 traps were placed, end to end, so that they commanded 

 the path in both directions. Rather quietly I approached 

 them, as though there might be some hesitating " cotton- 

 tail" looking in at one or the other at this moment. 

 When within a few paces, I can see both traps, and one 

 is sprung. My former vacillation and worse is not re- 

 peated. I slowly raise the lid and see the rabbit. Cau- 

 tiously I reach in and draw the squealing creature out, 

 and straightway silence it. Not so bad, after all. 



I met Miles Overfield on my way home and told him 

 of my luck. 



" Nothin' strange about it. You see, you go blun- 

 derin' through, and never take notice of the signs, and 

 think you've only got to set your traps. Fact is, the 

 rabbits are too full of turnips, and windfall apples, and 

 cabbage leaves yet. You've got to wait for food to get 

 scarce, and you must season your traps. It takes two 

 good frosts to get the smell of your hands off 'em. Then 

 like as not you baited with some apple — " 



" Hold on, here," I cried ; " if they went so far in the 

 trap as to test the apple, it would be all that was needed." 



"Would it, greeny? You bet, a molly cotton-tail 

 can't be so easily fooled. They can tell by the smell, 

 and that afore they go in. Why, young man, you've 

 got a heap to learn about rabbits. Now, my father used 

 to say, when he lived down on Pearson's hillside, that 

 the rabbits never went into a trap before the truck and 

 garden sass was all gathered ; and it stands to reason ; 



