Thomas Nelson Page

“ There do not seem to be as many hares now as there used to be when I was a boy. Then the "old fields" and branch-bottoms used to be full of them. They were peculiarly our game; I mean we used to consider that they belonged to us boys. They were rather scorned by the "gentlemen," by which was meant the grown-up gentlemen, who shot partridges over the pointers, and only picked up a hare when she got in their way. And the negroes used to catch them in traps or "gums," which were traps made of hollow gum-tree logs. But we boys were the hare-hunters. They were our property from our childhood ”

“ Of course, to hunt hares we had to have dogs—at least boys must have—the noise, the dash, the chase are half the battle.
And such dogs as ours were!
It was not allowable to take bird-dogs after hares. I say it was not allowable; I do not say it was not done, for sometimes, of course, the pointers would come, and we could not make them go back. But the hare-dogs were the puppies and curs, terriers, watch-dogs, and the nondescript crew which belonged to the negroes, and to the plantation generally. ”

“ Uncle Limpy-Jack's "hyah dawg," and then the two terriers "Snip" and "Snap." We beat the banks of the spring ditch for form's sake, though there was small chance of a hare there, because it was pasture and the banks were kept clean. Then we made for the old field beyond, the dogs spreading out and nosing around lazily, each on his own hook. Whether because of the noise we made and their seeking safety in flight, or because they were off "taking holiday"{1} as the negroes claimed, no hares were found, and after a half-hour our ardor was a little dampened. ”

“ It had been determined some time before Christmas that we would have a big hare-hunt on that day, and the "boys"—that is, the young darkies—came to the house from the quarters, prepared for the sport, and by the time breakfast was over they were waiting for us around the kitchen door.
Breakfast was always late about Christmas time ”

“ No lord was ever prouder of a special privilege handed down in his family for generations.
The other boys were armed with stout sticks and made much noise. Uncle Limpy-Jack was in this respect also the only exception; he was grave as became a "man" who was a hunter by business, and "warn't arter no foolishness." He allowed no one to touch his gun, which thus possessed a special value. He carried his powder in a gourd and his shot in an old rag. ”

“ Uncle Limpy-Jack had to be bribed into silence by a liberal present of shot and powder from us. But he finally consented. However, when Met, in a wild endeavor to get a shot at a stray partridge which got up before us, missed the bird and let Uncle Limpy-Jack, at fifty yards, have number-six pellets in the neck and shoulder, Peter's delinquency was forgotten. The old man dropped his gun and yelled, "Oh! Oh!" at the top of his voice. "Oh! I 'm dead, I 'm dead, I 'm dead." He lay down on the ground and rolled. ”

“ The negroes used to set traps all the Fall and Winter, and we, with the natural tendency of boys to imitate whatever is wild and primitive, used to set traps also. To tell the truth, however, the hares appeared to have a way of going into the negroes' traps, rather than into ours, and the former caught many to our one. ”

“ It was necessary to catch him and keep him from the house. We started up the slope after him. As we climbed the hill we heard them.
"Dee got a ole hyah now; come on," exclaimed one or two of the younger negroes ”