The person who owned the book before irritates me. He–I've decided, based on hand-writing and prejudice, that it's a guy–underlines only dry, factual plot points and descriptions.

"though he's twenty-six and six three."

"Yet in his time Rabbit was famous through the county..."

"...in the town of Mt. Judge, suburb of the city of Brewer, fifth largest city in Pennsylvania."

"...in his own line of work, which is demonstrating a kitchen gadget in several five-and-dime stores around Brewer."

Meanwhile, beauty, humor, and poignance pass by unremarked, unnoticed.

The opening paragraph of rabbit, run felt like the first warm afternoon in March, in Michigan.