92 THE ETON COLLEGE HUNT. 



print, though I have some idea of republishing it in an abridged 

 and less expensive form. In it I dealt somewhat at length on 

 the subject of hares, and it seems that I can hardly do better 

 than quote some portions at the present time. 



Hares love to squat on the hillsides out of the wind, and 

 with their heads to it ; east and west winds are those to which 

 they least object, but, when a cold northerly or a rain-laden 

 southerly wind prevails, they betake themselves off to the hedge- 

 rows and coverts. The barest looking ground is often selected 

 by them ; and a hole, scratched out on the leeward side of a mole- 

 hill or a broken bank, affords comfortable shelter ; and there, 

 unless disturbed, they will sit throughout the day, asleep with 

 wide-open eyes, or survey the world around them until it is time 

 to caper off to supper in the turnips. 



The ears of a hare are singularly adapted for hearing — 

 more especially, sounds from behind them. The size and position 

 of their eyes enable them to see around and behind them. 

 Strange to say, however, it is easier to approach a hare from the 

 front than from any other direction. This fact is, perhaps, due 

 to the position of the eyes, which are situated somewhat on the 

 side of the head, and backward rather than forward. In that 

 delightful old book, Jesse's Gleanings in Natural History — pub- 

 lished nearly a hundred years ago — the author makes the following 

 statement : *' I have observed in coursing that, if a hare, when 

 she is startled from her form, has her ears down, she is a weak 

 runner ; but, if one of her ears is carried erect, the hare generally 

 beats the dogs." I have never proved the truth of this assertion. 



Unlike rabbits, hares are born with their eyes open, and are 

 covered with hair. They seem to breed during the greater part 

 of the year. As a rule, they produce two at a birth, though 

 three are by no means uncommon. One naturalist mentions a 

 case in which a hare gave birth to no fewer than seven young 

 ones. 



Years ago a labourer, whom I occasionally employed as a 

 hedger, brought a live leveret to me, stating that it was one of 

 three which had been born outside his garden, and informed mq 

 that whenever three were produced at a birth they invariably 

 had a white star mark on their foreheads. I was somewhat 

 sceptical as to the truth of this, but I have since ascertained 

 that some naturalists assert this to be a fact. I kept the 

 leveret until it had developed into a full grown hare, when I 

 gave it away. It had grown very tame, and would sit out under 

 the large wire run in front of its coop and play with the spaniels. 

 These latter used to lie about in the sun close to the wire 



