FEBRUARY. 



RABBIT SHOOTING. 



By Oswald Crawfurd. 



It was an eminent living statesman who complained that rabbits 

 had but one fault : they were six inches too short. It does not 

 need to be a statesman, however, to have made this discovery — it 

 only needs to shoot at a rabbit crossing a narrow ride in covert to 

 find that a longer animal might find it less absurdly easy to get 

 away without touch of pellet. To make this particular snap-shot 

 requires, in my opinion, more natural quickness of hand and eye, 

 more skill, and more practice combined than any other kind of shot 

 at fur or feather that I know about. 



If it were not for rabbits, England as a sporting country would 

 be but a very dull one. The little white-scutted beast is an im- 

 portant item and incident in every day's shooting. He may start 

 up anywhere and everywhere ; from the rushy margin of a brook 

 when we are looking for teal, snipe, or wild duck ; from the under- 

 wood when we are expecting a blackcock to rise ; and, when we are 

 looking for outlying pheasants along a rough hedge side — and don't 

 find them — half a dozen rabbits may jump out here and there and 

 console us for our disappointment. If we look at the constituents 



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