Books: Mrs. Peter Rabbit
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Thornton W. Burgess >> Mrs. Peter Rabbit
"It's a regular castle!" cried Peter, and he knew that there he would be
safe from every one but Shadow the Weasel. But he never was wholly safe
from Shadow the Weasel anywhere, so he didn't let that thought worry
him. By and by he came to a wet place called a swamp. The ground was
soft, and there were little pools of water. Great ferns grew here just
as they did along the bank of the Laughing Brook, only more of them.
There were pretty birch-trees and wild cherry-trees. It was still and
dark and oh, so peaceful! Peter liked that place and sat down under a
big fern to rest. He didn't hear a sound excepting the beautiful silvery
voice of Veery the Thrush. Listening to it, Peter fell asleep, for he
was very tired.
By and by Peter awoke. For a minute he couldn't think where he was. Then
he remembered. But for a long time he sat perfectly still, thinking of
his adventures and wondering if he would be missed down on the Green
Meadows. Then all of a sudden Peter saw something that made him sit up
so suddenly that he cried "Ouch!" for he had forgotten all about how
stiff and sore he was.
What do you think Peter saw? Tracks! Yes, Sir, he saw tracks, Rabbit
tracks in the soft mud, and Peter knew that he hadn't made them!
CHAPTER VIII
THE STRANGE TRACKS IN THE OLD PASTURE
Who has attentive ear and eye
Will learn a lot if he but try.
Peter Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit stared and stared at the tracks in the soft mud of the
swamp in the Old Pasture. He would look first at the tracks, then at his
own feet, and finally back at the tracks again. He scratched his long
right ear with his long right hind foot. Then he scratched his long left
ear with his long left hind foot, all the time staring his hardest at
those strange tracks. They certainly were the tracks of a Rabbit, and it
was equally certain that they were not his own.
"They are too big for mine, and they are too small for Jumper the
Hare's. Besides, Jumper is in the Green Forest and not way off up here,"
said Peter to himself. "I wonder--well, I wonder if he will try to drive
me away."
You see Peter knew that if he had found a strange Rabbit in his dear Old
Briar-patch he certainly would have tried his best to drive him out, for
he felt that the Old Briar-patch belonged to him. Now he wondered if the
maker of these tracks would feel the same way about the Old Pasture.
Peter looked troubled as he thought it over. Then his face cleared.
"Perhaps," said he hopefully, "he is a new comer here, too, and if he
is, I'll have just as much right here as he has. Perhaps he simply has
big feet and isn't any bigger or stronger than I am, and if that's the
case I'd like to see him drive me out!"
Peter swelled himself out and tried to look as big as he could when he
said this, but swelling himself out this way reminded him of how stiff
and sore he was from the wounds given him by Hooty the Owl, and he made
a wry face. You see he realized all of a sudden that he didn't feel much
like fighting.
"My," said Peter, "I guess I'd better find out all about this other
fellow before I have any trouble with him. The Old Pasture looks big
enough for a lot of Rabbits, and perhaps if I don't bother him, he won't
bother me. I wonder what he looks like. I believe I'll follow these
tracks and see what I can find."
So Peter began to follow the tracks of the strange Rabbit, and he was so
interested that he almost forgot to limp. They led him this way and they
led him that way through the swamp and then out of it. At the foot of a
certain birch-tree Peter stopped.
"Ha!" said he, "now I shall know just how big this fellow is."
How was he to know? Why, that tree was a kind of Rabbit measuring-
stick. Yes, Sir, that is just what it was. You see, Rabbits like to keep
a record of how they grow, just as some little boys and girls do, but as
they have no doors or walls to stand against, they use trees. And this
was the measuring-tree of the Rabbit whose tracks Peter had been
following. Peter stopped at the foot of it and sat down to think it
over. He knew what that tree meant perfectly well. He had one or two
measuring-trees of his own on the edge of the Green Forest. He knew,
too, that it was more than a mere measuring-tree. It was a kind of "no
trespassing" sign. It meant that some other Rabbit had lived here for
some time and felt that he owned this part of the Old Pasture. Peter's
nose told him that, for the tree smelled very, very strong of Rabbit--of
the Rabbit with the big feet. This was because whoever used it for a
measuring-tree used to rub himself against it as far up as he could
reach.
Peter hopped up close to it. Then he sat up very straight and stretched
himself as tall as he could, but he wisely took care not to rub against
the tree. You see, he didn't want to leave his own mark there. So he
stretched and stretched, but stretch as he would, he couldn't make his
wobbly little nose reach the mark made by the other Rabbit.
"My sakes, he is a big fellow!" exclaimed Peter. "I guess I don't want
to meet him until I feel better and stronger than I do now."
CHAPTER IX
AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE
Legs are very useful when you want to run away;
Long, sharp teeth are splendid if to fight you want to stay;
But a far, far greater blessing, whether one may stay or quit,
Is a clever, trusty, quick and ever ready wit.
Peter Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit sat in a snug hiding-place in the Old Pasture and thought
over what he had found out about the strange Rabbit whose tracks he had
followed. They had led him to a rubbing or measuring-tree, where the
strange Rabbit had placed his mark, and that mark was so high up on the
tree that Peter knew the strange Rabbit must be a great deal bigger than
himself.
"If he's bigger, of course he is stronger," thought Peter, "and if he is
both bigger and stronger, of course it won't be the least bit of use for
me to fight him. Then, anyway, I'm too stiff and sore to fight. And
then, he has no business to think he owns the Old Pasture, because he
doesn't. I have just as much right here as he has. Yes, Sir, I have just
as much right in this Old Pasture as he has, and if he thinks he can
drive me out he is going to find that he was never more mistaken in his
life! I'll show him! Yes, Sir-e-e, I'll show him! I guess my wits are
as sharp as his, and I wouldn't wonder if they are a little bit
sharper."
Foolish Peter Rabbit! There he was boasting and bragging to himself of
what he would do to some one whom he hadn't even seen, all because he
had found a sign that told him the Old Pasture, in which he had made up
his mind to make his new home, was already the home of some one else.
Peter was like a lot of other people; he wasn't fair. No, Sir, he wasn't
fair. He let his own desires destroy his sense of fair play. It was all
right for him to put up signs in the dear Old Briar-patch and the Green
Forest, warning other Rabbits that they must keep away, but it was all
wrong for another Rabbit to do the same thing in the Old Pasture. Oh,
my, yes! That was quite a different matter! The very thought of it made
Peter very, very angry. When he thought of this other Rabbit, it was
always as the stranger. That shows just how unfair Peter was, because,
you see, Peter himself was really the stranger. It was his first visit
to the Old Pasture, while it was very plain that the other had lived
there for some time.
But Peter couldn't or wouldn't see that. He had counted so much on
having the Old Pasture to himself and doing as he pleased, that he was
too upset and disappointed to be fair. If the other Rabbit had been
smaller than he--well, that might have made a difference. The truth is,
Peter was just a wee bit afraid. And perhaps it was that wee bit of fear
that made him unfair and unjust. Anyway, the longer he sat and thought
about it, the angrier he grew, and the more he bragged and boasted to
himself about what he would do.
"I'll just keep out of sight until my wounds are healed, and then we'll
see who owns the Old Pasture!" thought Peter.
No sooner had this thought popped into his head than he received a
surprise, such an unpleasant surprise! It was three heavy thumps right
behind him. Peter knew what that meant. Of course he knew. It meant that
he must run or fight. It meant that he had been so busy thinking about
how smart he was going to be that he had forgotten to cover his own
tracks, and so the maker of the big tracks he had followed had found him
out.
Thump! Thump! Thump! There it was again. Peter knew by the sound that it
was of no use to stay and fight, especially when he was so sore and
stiff. There was nothing to do but run away. He simply had to. And that
is just what he did do, while his eyes were filled with tears of rage
and bitterness.
CHAPTER X
PETER RABBIT ALMOST DECIDES TO RETURN HOME
I have no doubt that you've been told
How timid folks are sometimes bold.
Peter Rabbit.
In all his life Peter Rabbit had never been so disappointed. Here he was
in the Old Pasture, about which he had dreamed and thought so long, and
in reaching which he had had such a narrow escape from Hooty the Owl,
and yet he was unhappy. The fact is, Peter was more unhappy than he
could remember ever to have been before. Not only was he unhappy, but he
was in great fear, and the worst of it was he was in fear of an enemy
who could go wherever he could go himself.
You see, it was this way: Peter had expected to find some enemies in the
Old Pasture. He had felt quite sure that fierce old Mr. Goshawk was to
be watched for, and perhaps Mr. Redtail and one or two others of the
Hawk family. He knew that Granny and Reddy Fox had lived there once upon
a time and might come back if things got too unpleasant for them on the
Green Meadows, now that Old Man Coyote had made his home there. But
Peter didn't worry about any of these dangers. He was used to them, was
Peter. He had been dodging them ever since he could remember, A friendly
bramble-bush, a little patch of briars, or an old stone wall near was
all that Peter needed to feel perfectly safe from these enemies, But now
he was in danger wherever he went, for he had an enemy who could go
everywhere he could, and it seemed to Peter that this enemy was
following him all the time. Who was it? Why, it was a great big old
Rabbit with a very short temper, who, because he had lived there for a
long time, felt that he owned the Old Pasture and that Peter had no
right there.
Now, In spite of all his trouble, Peter had seen enough of the Old
Pasture to think it a very wonderful place, a very wonderful place
indeed. He had seen just enough to want to see more. You know how very
curious Peter is. It seemed to him that he just couldn't go back to the
dear Old Briar-patch on the Green Meadows until he had seen everything
to be seen in the Old Pasture. So he couldn't make up his mind to go
back home, but stayed and stayed, hoping each day that the old gray
Rabbit would get tired of hunting for him, and would let him alone.
But the old gray Rabbit didn't do anything of the kind. He seemed to
take the greatest delight in waiting until Peter thought that he had
found a corner of the Old Pasture where he would be safe, and then in
stealing there when Peter was trying to take a nap, and driving him out.
Twice Peter had tried to fight, but the old gray Rabbit was too big for
him. He knocked all the wind out of poor Peter with a kick from his big
hind legs, and then with his sharp teeth he tore Peter's coat.
Poor Peter! His coat had already been badly torn by the cruel claws of
Hooty the Owl, and Old Mother Nature hadn't had time to mend it when he
fought with the old gray Rabbit. After the second time Peter didn't try
to fight again. He just tried to keep out of the way. And he did, too.
But in doing it he lost so much sleep and he had so little to eat that
he grew thin and thin and thinner, until, with his torn clothes, he
looked like a scarecrow.
And still he hated to give in
When there was still so much to see.
"Persistence, I was taught, will win,
And so I will persist," said he.
And he did persist day after day, until at last he felt that he really
must give it up. He had stretched out wearily on a tiny sunning-bank in
the farthest corner of the Old Pasture, and had just about made up his
mind that he would go back that very night to the dear Old Briar-patch
on the Green Meadows, when a tiny rustle behind him made him jump to his
feet with his heart in his mouth. But instead of the angry face of the
old gray Rabbit he saw--what do you think? Why, two of the softest,
gentlest eyes peeping at him from behind a big fern.
CHAPTER XI
PETER RABBIT HAS A SUDDEN CHANGE OF MIND
Whatever you decide to do
Make up your mind to see it through.
Peter Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit stared at the two soft, gentle eyes peeping at him from
behind the big fern just back of the sunning-bank in the far corner of
the Old Pasture. He had so fully expected to see the angry face of the
big, gray, old Rabbit who had made life so miserable for him that for a
minute he couldn't believe that he really saw what he did see. And so he
just stared and stared. It was very rude. Of course it was. It was very
rude indeed. It is always rude to stare at any one. So it was no wonder
that after a minute the two soft, gentle eyes disappeared behind one of
the great green leaves of the fern. Peter gave a great sigh. Then he
remembered how rude he had been to stare so.
"I--I beg your pardon," said Peter in his politest manner, which is very
polite indeed, for Peter can be very polite when he wants to be. "I beg
your pardon. I didn't mean to frighten you. Please forgive me."
With the greatest eagerness Peter waited for a reply. You know it was
because he had been so lonesome that he had left his home in the dear
Old Briar-patch on the Green Meadows. And since he had been in the Old
Pasture he had been almost as lonesome, for he had had no one to talk
to. So now he waited eagerly for a reply. You see, he felt sure that the
owner of such soft, gentle eyes must have a soft, gentle voice and a
soft, gentle heart, and there was nothing in the world that Peter needed
just then so much as sympathy. But though he waited and waited, there
wasn't a sound from the big fern.
"Perhaps you don't know who I am. I'm Peter Rabbit, and I've come up
here from the Green Meadows, and I'd like very much to be your friend,"
continued Peter after a while. Still there was no sound. Peter peeped
from the corner of one eye at the place where he had seen the two soft,
gentle eyes, but there was nothing to be seen but the gently waving leaf
of the big fern. Peter didn't know just what to do. He wanted to hop
over to the big fern and peep behind it, but he didn't dare to. He was
afraid that whoever was hiding there would run away.
"I'm very lonesome; won't you speak to me?" said Peter, in his gentlest
voice, and he sighed a deep, doleful sort of sigh. Still there was no
reply. Peter had just about made up his mind that he would go over to
the big fern when he saw those two soft, gentle eyes peeping from under
a different leaf. It seemed to Peter that never in all his life had he
seen such beautiful eyes. They looked so shy and bashful that Peter held
his breath for fear that he would frighten them away.
After a time the eyes disappeared. Then Peter saw a little movement
among the ferns, and he knew that whoever was there was stealing away.
He wanted to follow, but something down inside him warned him that It
was best to sit still. So Peter sat just where he was and kept perfectly
still for the longest time.
But the eyes didn't appear again, and at last he felt sure that whoever
they belonged to had really gone away. Then he sighed another great
sigh, for suddenly he felt more lonesome than ever. He hopped over to
the big fern and looked behind it. There in the soft earth was a
footprint, the footprint of a Rabbit, and it was SMALLER than his own.
It seemed to Peter that it was the most wonderful little footprint he
ever had seen.
"I believe," said Peter right out loud, "that I'll change my mind. I
won't go back to the dear Old Briar-patch just yet, after all."
CHAPTER XII
PETER LEARNS SOMETHING FEOM TOMMY TIT
When you find a friend in trouble
Pass along a word of cheer.
Often it is very helpful
Just to feel a friend is near.
Peter Rabbit.
"Hello, Peter Rabbit! What are you doing way up here, and what are you
looking so mournful about?"
Peter gave a great start of pleased surprise. That was the first
friendly voice he had heard for days and days.
"Hello yourself, Tommy Tit!" shouted Peter joyously. "My, my, my, but I
am glad to see you! But what are you doing up here in the Old Pasture
yourself?"
Tommy Tit the Chickadee hung head down from the tip of a slender branch
of a maple-tree and winked a saucy bright eye at Peter. "I've got a
secret up here," he said.
Now there is nothing in the world Peter Rabbit loves more than a secret.
But he cannot keep one to save him. No, Sir, Peter Rabbit can no more
keep a secret than he can fly. He means to. His intentions are the very
best in the world, but--
Alas! alack! poor Peter's tongue Is very, very loosely hung. And so,
because he MUST talk and WILL talk every chance he gets, he cannot keep
a secret. People who talk too much never can.
"What is your secret?" asked Peter eagerly.
Tommy Tit looked down at Peter, and his sharp little eyes twinkled.
"It's a nest with six of the dearest little babies in the world in it,"
he replied.
"Oh, how lovely!" cried Peter. "Where is it, Tommy Tit?"
"In a hollow birch-stub," replied Tommy, his eyes twinkling more than
ever.
"But where is the hollow birch-stub?" persisted Peter.
Tommy laughed. "That's my real secret," said he, "and if I should tell
you it wouldn't be a secret at all. Now tell me what you are doing up
here in the Old Pasture, Peter Rabbit."
Peter saw that it was of no use to tease Tommy Tit for his secret, so
instead he poured out all his own troubles. He told how lonesome he had
been in the dear Old Briar-patch on the Green Meadows because he didn't
dare to go about for fear of Old Man Coyote, and how at last he had
decided to visit the Old Pasture. He told how Hooty the Owl had nearly
caught him on his way, and then how, ever since his arrival, he had been
hunted by the big, gray, old Rabbit so that he could neither eat nor
sleep and had become so miserable that at last he had made up his mind
to go back to the dear Old Briar-patch.
"Ho!" interrupted Tommy Tit, "I know him. He's Old Jed Thumper, the
oldest, biggest, crossest Rabbit anywhere around. He's lived in the Old
Pasture so long that he thinks he owns it. It's a wonder that he hasn't
killed you."
"I guess perhaps he would have only I can run faster than he can,"
replied Peter, looking a little shamefaced because he had to own up that
he ran away instead of fighting.
Tommy Tit laughed. "That's the very wisest thing you could have done,"
said he. "But why don't you go back to the dear Old Briar-patch in the
Green Meadows?"
Peter hesitated and looked a wee bit foolish. Finally he told Tommy Tit
all about the two soft, gentle eyes he had seen peeping at him from
behind a big fern, and how he wanted to know who the eyes belonged to.
"If that's all you want to know, I can tell you," said Tommy Tit,
jumping out into the air to catch a foolish little bug who tried to fly
past. "Those eyes belong to little Miss Fuzzy-tail, and she's the
favorite daughter of Old Jed Thumper. You take my advice, Peter Rabbit,
and trot along home to the Old Briar-patch before you get into any more
trouble. There's my wife calling. Yes, my dear, I'm coming! Chickadee-
dee-dee!"
And with a wink and a nod to Peter Rabbit, off flew Tommy Tit.
CHAPTER XIII
LITTLE MISS FUZZYTAIL
Foolish questions waste time, but wise questions lead to knowledge.
Peter Rabbit.
"Little Miss Fuzzytail!" Peter said it over and over again, as he sat on
the sunning-bank in the far corner of the Old Pasture, where Tommy Tit
the Chickadee had left him.
"It's a pretty name," said Peter. "Yes, Sir, it's a pretty name. It's
the prettiest name I've ever heard. I wonder if she is just as pretty.
I--I--think she must be. Yes, I am quite sure she must be." Peter was
thinking of the soft, gentle eyes he had seen peeping at him from behind
the big fern, and of the dainty little footprint he had found there
afterward. So he sat on the sunning-bank, dreaming pleasant dreams and
wondering if he could find little Miss Fuzzytail if he should go look
for her.
Now all the time, although Peter didn't know it, little Miss Fuzzytail
was very close by. She was right back in her old hiding-place behind the
big fern, shyly peeping out at him from under a great leaf, where she
was sure he wouldn't see her. She saw the long tears in Peter's coat,
made by the cruel claws of Hooty the Owl, and she saw the places where
her father, Old Jed Thumper, had pulled the hair out with his teeth. She
saw how thin and miserable Peter looked, and tears of pity filled the
soft, gentle eyes of little Miss Fuzzytail, for, you see, she had a very
tender heart.
"He's got a very nice face," thought Miss Fuzzytail, "and he certainly
was very polite, and I do love good manners. And Peter is such a nice
sounding name! It sounds so honest and good and true. Poor fellow! Poor
Peter Rabbit!" Here little Miss Fuzzytail wiped her eyes. "He looks so
miserable I do wish I could do something for him. I--I--oh, dear, I do
believe he is coming right over here! I guess I better be going. How he
limps!"
Once more the tears filled her soft, gentle eyes as she stole away,
making not the least little sound. When she was sure she was far enough
away to hurry without attracting Peter's attention, she began to run.
"I saw him talking to my old friend Tommy Tit the Chickadee, and I just
know that Tommy will tell me all about him," she thought, as she
scampered along certain private little paths of her own.
Just as she expected, she found Tommy Tit and his anxious little wife,
Phoebe, very busy hunting for food for six hungry little babies snugly
hidden in a hollow near the top of the old birch-stub. Tommy was too
busy to talk then, so little Miss Fuzzytail sat down under a friendly
bramble-bush to rest and wait, and while she waited, she carefully
washed her face and brushed her coat until it fairly shone. You see, not
in all the Old Pasture, or the Green Forest, was there so slim and trim
and neat and dainty a Rabbit as little Miss Fuzzytail, and she was very,
very particular about her appearance.
By and by, Tommy Tit stopped to rest. He looked down at Miss Fuzzytail
and winked a saucy black eye. Miss Fuzzytail winked back. Then both
laughed, for they were very good friends, indeed.
"Tell me, Tommy Tit, all about Peter Rabbit," commanded little Miss
Fuzzytail. And Tommy did.
CHAPTER XIV
SOME ONE FOOLS OLD JED THUMPER
You cannot judge a person's temper by his size. There is more meanness
in the head of a Weasel than in the whole of a Bear.
Peter Rabbit.
Old Jed Thumper sat in his bull-briar castle in the middle of the Old
Pasture, scowling fiercely and muttering to himself. He was very angry,
was Old Jed Thumper. He was so angry that presently he stopped muttering
and began to chew rapidly on nothing at all but his temper, which is a
way angry Rabbits have.
The more he chewed his temper, the angrier he grew. He was big and stout
and strong and gray. He had lived so long in the Old Pasture that he
felt that it belonged to him and that no other Rabbit had any right
there unless he said so. Yet here was a strange Rabbit who had had the
impudence to come up from the Green Meadows and refused to be driven
away. Such impudence!
Of course it was Peter Rabbit of whom Old Jed Thumper was thinking. It
was two days since he had caught a glimpse of Peter, but he knew that
Peter was still in the Old Pasture, for he had found fresh tracks each
day. That very morning he had visited his favorite feeding ground, only
to find Peter's tracks there. It had made him so angry that he had lost
his appetite, and he had gone straight back to his bull-briar castle to
think it over. At last Old Jed Thumper stopped chewing on his temper. He
scowled more fiercely than ever and stamped the ground impatiently.
"I'll hunt that fellow till I kill him, or drive him so far from the Old
Pasture that he'll never think of coming back. I certainly will!" he
said aloud, and started forth to hunt.
Now it would have been better for the plans of Old Jed Thumper if he had
kept them to himself instead of speaking aloud. Two dainty little ears
heard what he said, and two soft, gentle eyes watched him leave the
bull-briar castle. He started straight for the far corner of the Old
Pasture where, although he didn't know it, Peter Rabbit had found a warm
little sunning-bank. But he hadn't gone far when, from way off in the
opposite direction, he heard a sound that made him stop short and prick
up his long ears to listen. There it was again--thump, thump! He was
just going to thump back an angry reply, when he thought better of it.