"What's for dinner?"
"Rabbits!"
"Rabbits! Ye gods—again! Why, this is the fourth day this week that we've fared on their delectable flesh!" cries Robert, striding into the dining-room in grim disgust.
"At this rate we'll soon clear Higgins's warren for him!" chimes in Hal.
"Aunt Jo, let me say grace to-day, will you?"
"Certainly, my dear," Aunt Jo responds, somewhat surprised at the request. She is a mild, sheep faced old gentlewoman, with weary eyes that within the last two years have rained tears almost daily.
Pauline folds her slim sunburnt hands, bows her head, and murmurs reverently—
"Of rabbits young, of rabbits old,
Of rabbits hot, of rabbits cold,
Of rabbits tender, rabbits tough,
We thank thee, Lord, we've had enough!"
"Amen!" respond the family, in full lugubrious choir.