way, but the simplest and readiest. These five
hundred were destined to be coursed by Greyhounds. The surging mass of
over four thousand were ruthlessly given to slaughter.

Five hundred little boxes with five hundred bright-eyed Jack-rabbits
were put on the train that day, and among them was Little Jack Warhorse.

V

Rabbits take their troubles lightly, and it is not to be supposed that
any great terror was felt by the boxed Jacks, once the uproar of the
massacre was over; and when they reached the Coursing Park near the
great city and were turned out one by one, very gently,--yes, gently;
the Roman guards were careful of their prisoners, being responsible for
them,--the Jacks found little to complain of, a big inclosure with
plenty of good food, and no enemies to annoy them.

The very next morning their training began. A score of hatchways were
opened into a much larger field--the Park. After a number of Jacks had
wandered out through these doors a rabble of boys appeared and drove
them back, pursuing them noisily until all were again in the smaller
field, called the Haven. A few days of this taught the Jack-rabbits
that when pursued their safety was to get back by one of the hatches
into the Haven.

Now the second lesson began. The whole band were driven out of a side
door into a long lane which led around three sides of the Park to
another inclosure at the far end. This was the Starting Pen. Its door
into the arena--that is, the Park--was opened, the Rabbits driven
forth, and then a mob of boys and Dogs in hiding, burst forth and
pursued them across the open. The whole army went bobbing and bounding
away, some of the younger ones soaring in a spy-hop, as a matter of
habit; but low skimming ahead of them all was a gorgeous
black-and-white one; clean-limbed and bright-eyed, he had attracted
attention in the pen, but now in the field he led the band with easy
lope that put him as far ahead of them all as they were ahead of the
rabble of common Dogs.

"Luk at thot, would ye--but ain't he a Little Warhorse?" shouted a
villainous-looking Irish stable-boy, and thus he was named. When
halfway across the course the Jacks remembered the Haven, and all swept
toward it and in like a snow-cloud over the drifts.

This was the second lesson--to lead straight for the Haven as soon as
driven from the Pen. In a week all had learned it, and were ready for
the great opening meet of the Coursing Club.

The Little Warhorse wa