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THE TALE
OF PETER RABBIT
BY
BEATRIX POTTER
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ONCE
upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were
Flopsy,
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 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 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 a 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 around.
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
wheel-barrow 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 wheel-barrow, 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 tablespoon
to be taken at bed-time.'
But Flopsy,
Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries, for
supper.
THE END. |