"THE DEMON RABBIT" 



have had at the demon. The first morning I went 

 after him I spied him sitting up on his hind legs 

 at the corner of a stack. It was as pretty a shot 

 as a pot hunter could ask for, and as we were 

 treating rabbits as vermin rather than as game, I 

 felt no scruples about the lack of sportsmanship 

 in shooting at him when standing still. As a matter 

 of fact I am not sure but it is entirely sportsmanlike 

 to shoot at a standing rabbit with the rifle. I never 

 managed to stop but one with a bullet when it was 

 on the run and the attempts I have made since have 

 convinced me that that shot was an accident. Any- 

 way, Mr. Rabbit was sitting up offering a provokingly 

 good target when I drew a bead on him and fired. Zip ! 

 He whirled and disappeared around the stack in two 

 jumps. As I approached the place where he had been 

 standing I saw something floating in the air and 

 grabbed it. It proved to be a bunch of rabbit fur and 

 on the ground where he had been there was a lot 

 more. Next day I found him squatted beside the 

 trunk of an apple tree, took deliberate aim and 

 fired. Just one jump and a little white tail flirted 

 saucily under a rail fence and disappeared. On the 

 ground where he had been standing I found enough 

 rabbit fur to stuff* a pin-cushion, evidently I had 



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