PETER
RABBIT AT THE FARM NOW Peter Rabbit, as you will
remember, lived
with
his Mother and his three little sisters,
Flopsy, and Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, in a cozy little home, deep down in a sand-bank, under the roots of a big fir-tree. LIKE all little boy rabbits, Peter was always getting into mischief. And one day, when his Mother had gone to call on little Mrs. Hare, he made a little boat out of an old soap-box, and sailed away down the little noisy brook, until he came to the great, wide, greenish-blue sea. There he met Grandaddy Whale and Sammy Sea Gull, and had many wonderful adventures all of which you have read in another story. IT wasn’t
long
after that when Peter was ready for more mischief, so, one morning,
when Old Mother Rabbit wasn’t looking, he slipped out of the back
door, as quietly as a little mouse, and scampered down the lane, as
fast as his short little legs could carry him.
HE was so
busy
with his running that he forgot all about his looking, and, the first
thing he knew, he ran “smack” into Little Pollie Possum, who was
trudging down the road on her way home from Mr. McGregor’s farm,
with a basket of persimmons on her arm. The basket went one way, and
the persimmons went another way, and Pollie and Peter were all mixed
up together in the middle of the road.
“YOU pesky
little rabbit!” cried Pollie Possum, “now see what you’ve done!
You’ve spilled all my nice persimmons, and my poor old auntie won’t
have any fruit for breakfast.”
Of course Peter was sorry, and of course he picked up all the persimmons and put them back in the basket. He was so nice about it, and so sorry that he had been rude, that Pollie Possum forgave him and handed him a big, fat, juicy persimmon all for himself. POLLIE
POSSUM’S polite manners made Peter a very happy little rabbit, and
off he skipped, nibbling the big yellow persimmon as fast as his
little white teeth could work.
HE skipped
and
he ran, and he ran and he skipped, until he came to the old oak tree
on Mr. McGregor’s farm that had been blown down in the big storm.
He looked all about, until at last he found the nicest little hollow
place in the trunk of the tree it wasn’t too deep, and it wasn’t
too wide, but was just right. So down sat Peter to finish his
persimmon. He nibbled, and he chewed, and he chewed and he nibbled,
and was having a lovely time, when suddenly he heard a little voice
crying “Boo-hoo! Oh! Boo-hoo!” He looked this way, and he looked
that way, until at last he saw Little Goosie Poosie, all huddled up
in the grass, crying as if her heart would break.
MY
goodness gracious!” said Peter, “what terrible thing has happened
now? Tell me all about it, quick, and maybe I can help.”
“Oh! Peter.” replied Little Goosie Poosie, “if you only could. All the water has run out of our swimming-pond and nobody knows how to fix it.” “SUPPOSE
we go and have a look at it,” said Peter, and off they started.
SURE
enough,
when they got to the little pond, there was only enough water left in
it to wet the tip end of Daddy Gander’s toes not near enough water
for Little Goosie Poosie or Ducky Daddies to have any fun in.
NOW Peter,
with
all his mischief, was a wise little rabbit, and he saw at once where
the trouble was. The muskrat family, that lived in the bank of Mr.
McGregor’s pond, had been digging in the mud for the sweet little
water roots, and had made such a big hole in the dam that the water
had all run out.
Peter
took off his little blue jacket and set to work at once. He made
everybody help — the chickens brought the moss, and the ducks and
geese brought the clay. Peter carried the sticks and rolled the
stones. He pulled and he pushed, and he tramped and he stamped, and
it wasn’t very long before the big hole was filled up and the
little pond was full of water again.
“HIP!
Hip! Hurrah!” cried Peter, and “Hurrah!” cried Mother Goosie
Poosie and Daddy Gander, as they swam around and stood on their heads
to show how glad they were.
PETER
was so pleased that he danced around on the bank of the pond. But in
his excitement he forgot how very “slickery” wet clay really is.
First he slipped on one foot, then he slipped on the other foot, and
then all of a sudden he went SPLASH! head over heels into the deepest
part of the water.
MOTHER
GOOSIE POOSIE and Daddy Gander spread out their wings and came
skimming over the water as fast as they could fly.
DADDY
GANDER grabbed Peter by his long hairy ears, and Mother Goosie Poosie
grabbed Peter by his short furry tail, and soon he was safe and sound
on dry land.
IT was a
very
wet and muddy Peter Rabbit that stood on the bank of the pond, while
the water dripped off of him.
OF course
Peter
had to take off his clothes and hang them up to dry. And, all the
time his clothes were drying, Peter had to hide in the bushes,
because he didn’t have any other clothes to put on.
THE sun was
hot,
however, and soon Peter was dressed again and ready to go with Little
Goosie Poosie all around Mr. McGregor’s farm. Off they started,
Little Goosie Poosie waddling along in front, and Peter skipping
along behind.
PETER found
a
big bone and made friends with Old Growler, Mr. McGregor’s
watchdog, who had a big leather collar around his neck.
DOWN in Mr.
McGregor’s orchard they found some nice, juicy, red apples and when
they reached Mr. McGregor’s barn-yard, Peter had lots of fun with
Silver Tail, the big brown mare.
“She can catch apples in her mouth,” said Little Goosie Poosie. “I’ve seen her do it lots of times.” “Don’t believe it,” said Peter. But Silver Tail really could, and when Peter tossed her a big, red apple, she opened her mouth wide, and the apple disappeared. She chewed, and she chewed, and she chewed, and then all of a sudden, she winked one eye at Peter, as much to say “You didn’t think I could do it, did you?” BUT best of
all,
Peter liked the little woolly lambs. They were all playing “Follow
the Leader” on a little hill. First one would run up and jump off,
and then another would run up and jump off, and then another would
run up and jump off. Peter laughed at them until his little sides
ached.
THEN
over they went to Mr. McGregor’s cow-stable, to see the big red
cow, called “Sukey.” It was growing late, and there was Mr.
McGregor’s hired man milking away, with both hands, as fast as he
could. Peter was so anxious to see where the milk came from, that he
crept right in between Mr. McGregor’s hired man’s legs.
“Drat that little rabbit!” said he, as he gave a kick at Peter. PETER
jumped
away as fast as he could, but jumped so quickly that he hadn’t time
to look where he was going, and into the big milk bucket he tumbled
head over heels.
HE didn’t
stay
there long, you may be sure. Out he popped and off he scampered into
the barn and hid in a big heap of hay.
THOMAS, the
big
maltese stable cat saw him, and thought he was a great big rat, and
was just going to pounce upon Peter, and bite him with his sharp
white teeth, when in flapped Little Goosie Poosie.
“Oh! — please don’t bite him,” she cried, “it’s only Peter.” SO Thomas
made
friends with Peter, and licked all the milk off his little blue
jacket.
“Dear me,” said Peter, “I’ve had a lovely time, but there is no telling what will happen next. I believe I’d better go home.” So he said “Good-bye” to Little Goosie Poosie, and all the ducks and all the chickens, and all the geese, and all the cows, and all the horses, and all the rest of his friends at Mr. McGregor’s farm, through a hole in the fence. PETER
thought
the shortest way home would be through Mr. McGregor’s corn field,
but the corn stalks were so tall, and the leaves were so thick, that
he soon lost his way. He turned and he twisted, and he walked and he
ran, but he couldn’t find his way out. So down he sat on a big
yellow pumpkin, to think what he could do next.
Old Jim Crow was so busy stealing corn that he never noticed Peter. WHEN Peter
saw
Old Jim Crow, he thought how nice it would be if Old Jim Crow would
carry him out of the corn field, so he could get home in time for
supper. He crept up closer and closer to Old Jim Crow, and then, all
of a sudden, he made a big jump and caught Old Jim Crow by both his
feet.
Soon they were sailing just over the tops of the corn stalks Old Jim Crow couldn’t fly very high, and he couldn’t fly very fast, because Peter was rather heavy. WHEN they
came
to the big road Peter cried out, “Now I know where I am.” And
just then he let go of Old Jim Crow’s legs, and down he dropped.
Peter wasn’t hurt a bit. So off he scampered for home —
lippety-lippety-lippety, just as fast as his short little legs could
carry him.
OLD MOTHER
RABBIT, and Flopsy, and Mopsy, and Cotton-tail were all very much
frightened, when Peter told them about all the wonderful things that
he had seen, but Peter only laughed. When he had eaten his supper,
and had crawled into his little bed, Old Mother Rabbit came in to
kiss him good-night, and turn out the light. “Now Peter,” she
said, just before she turned away, “please promise me that you will
be my good little boy rabbit, and never run away again.” But Peter
was fast asleep.
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