directed, and in a second she was back again with the cover of a box in one
hand and a red crayon in the other. Sitting flat upon the grass, she printed
on the cover in rather irregular letters:--

BORN--I don't know when. DIED June 17th.
LAVERACK SETTERS NOT ALLOWED.

This she put securely into place, while Joey raked up a little about the spot,
and they left the little rabbit grave looking very neat and tidy. The next
morning Tattine ran out to see how the little wild-wood plant was growing, and
then she stood with her arms akimbo in blank astonishment. The little grave
had disappeared. She kicked aside the loose earth, and saw that box and Bunny
were both gone, and, not content with that, they had partially chewed up the
tombstone, which lay upon its face a little distance away. They, of course,
meant Betsy and Doctor. "There was no use in my putting: 'Laverack setters not
allowed,' " she said to herself sorrowfully, and she ran off to tell her
Mother of this latest tragedy.

"Yes, I know, Tattine dear," said Mrs. Gerald, in the first pause; "there is
neither pity nor mercy in the heart of a setter when he is on the scent of a
rabbit, alive or dead--but, Tattine, don't forget they have their good sides,
Doctor and Betsy; just think how fond they are of you and me. Why, the very
sight of us always makes them beat a tattoo with their tails."

"Yes, I know, Mamma, but I can't feel somehow that tattoos with their tails
make up for killing rabbits with their teeth."



CHAPTER II. A MAPLE-WAX MORNING