MISCELLANY No 93
THE TALE OF
PETER RABBIT
BY
BEATRIX POTTER
Once upon a time
there were four little Rabbits, and their names were—
Flopsy,
Mopsy,
Cotton-tail,
and Peter.
Mopsy,
Cotton-tail,
and Peter.
They lived with
their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.
'Now my dears,'
said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, 'you may go into the fields or down the lane,
but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he
was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.'
'Now run along,
and don't get into mischief. I am going out.'
Then old Mrs.
Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through the wood to the
baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.
Flopsy, Mopsy,
and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather
blackberries:
But Peter, who
was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed
under the gate!
First he ate
some lettuces and some French beans; and then he ate some radishes;
And then,
feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.
But round the
end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor!
Mr. McGregor was
on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran
after Peter, waving a rake and calling out, 'Stop thief!'
Peter was most
dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the
way back to the gate.
He lost one of
his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.
After losing
them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got
away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got
caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass
buttons, quite new.
Peter gave
himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were overheard by some
friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great excitement, and implored him to
exert himself.
Mr. McGregor
came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter; but Peter
wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him.
And rushed into
the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to
hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.
Mr. McGregor was
quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath
a flower-pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.
Presently Peter
sneezed—'Kertyschoo!' Mr. McGregor was after him in no time.
And tried to put
his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The
window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter.
He went back to his work.
Peter sat down
to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with fright, and he had not the
least idea which way to go. Also he was very damp with sitting in that can.
After a time he
began to wander about, going lippity—lippity—not very fast, and looking all
round.
He found a door
in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to
squeeze underneath.
An old mouse was
running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her
family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a
large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at
him. Peter began to cry.
Then he tried to
find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled.
Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white
cat was staring at some gold-fish, she sat very, very still, but now and then
the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go
away without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin, little
Benjamin Bunny.
He went back
towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of
a hoe—scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underneath the
bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a
wheelbarrow and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing
onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!
Peter got down
very quietly off the wheelbarrow; and started running as fast as he could go,
along a straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.
Mr. McGregor
caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped
underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.
Mr. McGregor
hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow to frighten the
blackbirds.
Peter never
stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree.
He was so tired
that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole
and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done
with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter
had lost in a fortnight!
I am sorry to
say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
His mother put
him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
'One
table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.'
But Flopsy,
Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.
THE END
