Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-11-26

Familiar to every country-bred boy IN
the land is the spectacle of a general as
sortment of dogs of high and low degree
reinforced by yelling pack or rusty
youngsters, armed with sticks and
stones, joining in pursuit of that classic
quarry, the fleet-footed Molly Cotton
tall
Every hunter, as matter of fact. be-
gan his hunting with a rabbit. for the
cottontail falls victim to his two-legged
enemy long before that hopeful is the
proud owner of a rife. an airgun or a.
single-barreled shotgun. Every boy that
gets a genuine square deal in his life
has dog. and the greatest dog in TIE
world for any boy is rabbit dog. The
term is a broad and general one. Almost
any kind of dog will run a rabbit
with varying degrees of success, depend
ing on the size Of the dog, his speed and
the nature of the ground in which the
quarry was jumped. What is more pic
turesque than a field full of happy
youngsters lined up like row of pickets
as they scour across stubble behind a
nondescript bunch of CANNES, each look
ing for the supreme moment when rab-
bit shall be- jumped? None of them owns
gun. the authorities at home having
ruled that guns shall come later on in life,
but what cares the kid just so he gets
rabbit meat?
The onward march is not without re-
suit, for presently a wire-haired cur
rousts a RABBIT from his warm bed at the
foot of some weeds, a brown form gives
leap, cur dog gives tongue, the rest
of the pack joins in the animal chorus
and then each boy employs a pair of
lusty lungs to swell the music, while a
brown flash carrying a white tail behind
makes for the nearest fence. Every pair
of juvenile eyes, each doggish nose and
doggish eye follow the course of that
rabbit. and 1t must be willy old field
mule that can dart into shelter from
which that crowd cannot roust him.
**
Come on fellers," yells a leader of
the attacking army; "he's in that brush
pile Then one
Ole Bre'r Rabbit by one, flee, fox
:, terrier, pointer,
Hasn't a Chance. setter, coon dog.
possum dog, hound and all, joined at in
tervals by a boy all out of breath sur
round that brush pile with it's frightened
inmate. What chance has that rabbit to
get away? Not the slightest. Thanked
on every side, Molly Cottonail has but
to wait for the finish. 1t is coming,
swiftly and surely. Every kid grabs a
piece of brush and tossess it aside. Each
dog, sentinel-like, takes position about
the brush pile Small and smaller grows
| the brown and tangled heap, and nearer
and nearer that rabbit draws toward the
final curtain. Not much more of the
pile Is left. and youngster mountsb it in
jiffy and begins to jump up and down
for dear life.
Watch out, fellers." he yelIs in warn
ing admonition: he'll be comm out in q
| minute" and tighter grows the Gordon
about the prisoner. Each dog hears anG
| understands thoroughly the boyish tip
and with new manifestation of alertness
| watches the brush pile.
Here he comes!" yells sharp-eyed
lad as the brown form makes break fo1
| barks and yelps breaks out afresh. The
contest is brief. Confused, the cotton
tail knows not where to turn. He darts
this way only to encounter a dog and a
boy. He turns yonder and is confronted
by others, and that very turn costs him
dear, for in jiffy cur dog and a brown
form merge into one flying image, yellow
and brown and a white dot mingle in a
swiftly moving picture, brown-gray fun
floats in the air, there's a squeal of de-
spair, a chorus of joyous shouting, that
and a proud youngster is carrying him
by the hind legs. That rabbit is meat.
* X
Every country boy has been a member
of just such a chorus in boyhoods happy
days. Long
Every Country Boy before he
d