Page:The Fun of It.pdf/25

Rh little girls should not go around shooting was given as sufficient reason for its seizure.

As soon as my sister regained possession, she used it for shooting rats in a particularly well in­habited barn. So far, that is the biggest game either of us has ever hunted.

I did trap some though, come to think of it—at the age of six. The trap used was my own inven­tion, too. It consisted of an empty orange crate with a hinged lid. This lay on its side with the lid sticking out like an awning and propped open with a stick. To the stick was tied a long string with me on the other end, hiding behind a tree. When I pulled the string the stick flew out and the lid slammed shut and stayed shut against considerable pressure because of the heavy rubber bands labori­ously attached.

What was my game? Nothing more or less than a chicken called by my sister and me in our private terminology a “domineecrips”.

Some neighbor’s hens occasionally escaped and invaded a special flower bed of ours. Parental re­monstrance did no good, so I thought I could solve the problem by catching the invaders one by one. By sprinkling some breadcrumbs around and in­side the box, one specimen was lured near enough to be trapped. What a squawking and how the feathers flew, as the surprised bird churned about inside! I was terrified and elated and know how a big game hunter feels after he has captured a charg­ing elephant.