In walking to the spot selected for the snare it is best to avoid even
stepping on the run, and while setting it up to stand back as far as
convenient and lean forward. The grass that grows near must not be
touched by the hand, which seems to impart a very strong scent. The
stick that has been carried in the hand must not be allowed to fall
across the run: and be careful that your handkerchief does not drop out
of your pocket on or near it. If a bunch of grass grows very tall and
requires parting, part it with the end (not the handle) of your stick.

The same holds good with gins, especially if placed for a rat. Some
persons strew a little freshly plucked grass over the pan and teeth of
the trap, thinking to hide it; but it not only smells of the hand, but
withers up and turns brown, and acts as a warning to that wary creature.
It is a better plan if any dead leaves are lying near to turn them over
and over with the end of a twig till they fall on the trap, that is if
they are dry: if wet (unless actually raining at the time), should one
chance to be left with the drier under surface uppermost, the rat may
pause on the brink. Now that the remotest chance of leaving a scent was
avoided the wire became a deadly instrument. Almost every morning two or
three rabbits were taken: we set up a dozen snares when we had mastered
the trick. They were found lying at full length in the crisp white
grass, for we often rose to visit the wires while yet the stars were
visible. Thus extended a person might have passed within a few yards and
never noticed them, unless he had an out-of-doors eye; for the whiter
fur of the belly as they lay aside was barely distinguishable from the
hoar frost. The blacksmith Ikey sauntered down the lane every evening,
and glanced casually behind the ash tree--the northern side of whose
trunk was clothed with dark green velvet-like moss--to see if a bag was
lying for him there among the nettles in the ditch. The rabbits were put