One summer I stumbled upon a squat close 

 along the public road. Cart-loads of trasli had 

 been dumped there, and among the debris was a 

 bottomless coal-scuttle. In the coal-scuttle a 

 rabbit made his squat. Being open at both ends, 

 it sheltered him beautifully from sun and rain. 

 Here he sat, napping through the day, watching 

 the interesting stream of passers-by, himself 

 hidden by the railk weeds and grass. When dis- 

 covered by a dog or boy, he tripped out of one 

 of his open doors and led the intruder a useless 

 run into the swamp. 



At one time my home was separated from the 

 woods by only a clover-field. This clover-field 

 was a favorite feeding-ground for the rabbits of 

 the vicinity. Here, in the early evening, they 

 would gather to feed and frolic ; and, not content 

 with clover, they sometimes went into the garden 

 for a dessert of growing corn and young cabbage. 



Take a moonlight night in autumn and hide 

 in the edge of these woods. There is to be a rab- 

 bit party in the clover-field. The grass has long 

 been cut and the field is clean and shining ; but 

 still there is plenty to eat. The rabbits from 

 both sides of the woods are coming. The full 

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