his middle in rabbits, and they would jump all over him, and bunt
him with their heads, and scratch him with their toe-nails, and
the dogs would grab rabbits and shake them, and Pa would
fall down and rabbits would run over him till you couldn't see
Pa at all. Then he would raise up again and maul the animals
with his club, and his clothes were so covered with rabbit hair
that he looked like a big rabbit himself. He lost his hat and looked
as though he was getting exhausted, and then he stopped and
spit on his hands and yelled to the rest of the men, who had
dismounted and were lined up at the edge of the corral, and said:
"You condemned loafers, why don't you come in here and help
us dogs kill off these vermin, cause I don't want to have all
the fun. Come on in, the water is fine," and Pa laughed as though
he was in swimming and wanted the rest of the gang to come in.

[Illustration: Pa Swinging His Ax Handle.]

The crowd thought they had given the distinguished stranger his
inning, and so they all rushed in with clubs and began to kill
rabbits and drive them away from pa. In an hour or so the most of
them were killed, and Pa was so tired he went and sat down on the
ground to rest, and I got down off my perch and went to Pa and
asked him what he thought of this latest experience, and I began
to pick rabbit hairs off pa's clothes.

"I'll tell you what it is, Hennery," said pa, as he breathed hard,
as though he had been running a foot race, "this rabbit drive
reminds me of the way the rich corporations look upon the poor
people, just as we look upon the jackrabbits. We pity a single
jackrabbit, and he runs when he sees us, and seems to say: