"Have caught the men, and shipped to Hancock County.
"Carroll."
"THE HUNT IS UP, THE MORN IS BRIGHT AND GRAY."—Shakspeare.
THE HUNTING SEASON.
BY W. A. LINN.
The boy whose fortune it is to live in the country looks forward to the advent of autumn with eagerness, if happily he belongs to that large class of boys who have a passion for hunting. There are some people who object to this trait in the character of boys, as indicative of cruelty, but I doubt if they fully understand the trait. Very few hunters, old or young, take pleasure in the mere act of killing birds and animals. If this was the chief end in view, they could secure it without days of toilsome tramping. A hunter's pleasure is made up of a great deal more than success in filling his bag. If he is to be really an expert in his work, he must study carefully the habits of the game which he pursues, become acquainted with the country over which he is to hunt, and submit to long practice with his gun or rifle.
The most common object of pursuit with boy hunters in our New England and Middle States is the rabbit. The more mature sportsman may look with scorn on the "cotton-tail" if he pleases, and rejoice more over one dead quail than the capture of a dozen rabbits. Not so the boy. With boys, size counts in a good many ways. Then, too, in rabbit-hunting, boys get a variety of sport. They can find time after school to set a few snares or dead-falls in the nearest thicket. Or on a Saturday, taking such dogs as they own or can borrow (most dogs, like most boys, seem to be ready to hunt rabbits), they can set out for the brush lots and stubble fields, and revel in excitement as the sharp bark of the dogs lets them know that a fresh track has been struck.