Life — May 5, 1904 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

430 THE BULLFROG AND THE RABBIT. Y comb n, isn't there was somet afternoon. It was finish. me—it's a beanty—all hand- I had my te chased silver, with my mono- gram on it. I believe I'll st the firm for a devil wagon to I'll let ‘em ne of the magazine mine—I must make use on the trail have the 1 f that. I was wander- 7 ing along this time, Indian file —I always walk Indian file on the trail—one has to on some of these narrow mountain trails —deuce to pay if one didn falling off and all that sort of thing—and I was a trifle startled by a very disagreeable growl. This was just as I ached the bend in the trail that leads along the eight- foot canon of a certain part of the Bronxy Mountains. You wouldn't know if I told youthe exact spot, as no one but uralists and other—and animals ever gothere. Iam, as I rked, a Brother tothe Di ens of I, nevertheless, quickly hid behind a rock, You can’t always put ent trust even in brothers. I was just in time, as it seemed, for a full- grown mountain Rabbit rushed out of a thicket, kicking up the dust in a very un- hygienic fashion, and suddenly stopped in a d, angry, crouching posture, glaring at something I couldn't see as yet, for it hadn't ed around the bend. But I bet m self a ‘Martini’? there'd be rough hous when the unseen other thing did arrive. It —a huge and savage look- 4g The two animals stood for a moment, both crouching, fire snapping from their eyes! Well, honestly, I Wwas so excited myself it's a wonder my stenographer atthe other end of my ‘phone got my story straight. I was talking into the receiver “Ll Es WAG Animal Whobbers \ — > idomery Vilage half the time, if I remember that nerve-wrenching quarter r correctly ~ I'm thinking it over now in my hand- refined study, watching the embers crackle and as stove ! some die in m The bristles, or whatever you call’em, on the Rabbit's ke a hair-brush, and the pulse in throat was working overtime. Their t of fried the dust around them y I figured it out was that there back were standing out Bullfrog’s so hot i The w d toa hop given by the Frogs, or something of the sort, and the bad blood had kept on surging thenceforth zh each succeeding batch of frogs and rabbits. That “tassert it. Iam only posi- —about things I see with my own The phrenological moment arrived—a scuffle, a couple of lunges, a cloud of dust and a rattle of pebbles, and the: I hoped the Rabbit suggestion. Id eyes. ‘e at each other's throats. ine pair of calves! I shouldn't a bicycle. I soon saw that the Rabbit but rabbits are always game; so this one was, but it was going against him. The Bullfrog, so named for the dogged tenacity of grip and perseverance he has in “TL bet myself a *Martini? there'd be rough house.”