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The Great Big Treasury of Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Benjamin Bunny
Beatrix Potter
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       One morning a little rabbit sat on a
       bank.
       He pricked his ears and listened to
       the trit-trot, trit-trot of a pony.
       A gig was coming along the road; it
       was driven by Mr. McGregor, and
       beside him sat Mrs. McGregor in her
       best bonnet.
       As soon as they had passed, little
       Benjamin Bunny slid down into the
       road, and set off--with a hop, skip,
       and a jump--to call upon his
       relations, who lived in the wood at the
       back of Mr. McGregor's garden.
       That wood was full of rabbit holes;
       and in the neatest, sandiest hole of all
       lived Benjamin's aunt and his
       cousins--Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail,
       and Peter.
       Old Mrs. Rabbit was a widow; she
       earned her living by knitting
       rabbit-wool mittens and muffatees (I
       once bought a pair at a bazaar). She
       also sold herbs, and rosemary tea,
       and rabbit-tobacco (which is what
       we call lavender).
       Little Benjamin did not very much
       want to see his Aunt.
       He came round the back of the fir-
       tree, and nearly tumbled upon the top
       of his Cousin Peter.
       Peter was sitting by himself. He
       looked poorly, and was dressed in a
       red cotton pocket-handkerchief.
       "Peter," said little Benjamin, in a
       whisper, "who has got your clothes?"
       Peter replied, "The scarecrow in Mr.
       McGregor's garden," and described
       how he had been chased about the
       garden, and had dropped his shoes
       and coat.
       Little Benjamin sat down beside his
       cousin and assured him that Mr.
       McGregor had gone out in a gig, and
       Mrs. McGregor also; and certainly for
       the day, because she was wearing her
       best bonnet.
       Peter said he hoped that it would
       rain.
       At this point old Mrs. Rabbit's voice
       was heard inside the rabbit hole,
       calling: "Cotton-tail! Cotton-tail! fetch
       some more camomile!"
       Peter said he thought he might feel
       better if he went for a walk.
       They went away hand in hand, and
       got upon the flat top of the wall at the
       bottom of the wood. From here they
       looked down into Mr. McGregor's
       garden. Peter's coat and shoes were
       plainly to be seen upon the scarecrow,
       topped with an old tam-o'-shanter of
       Mr. McGregor's.
       Little Benjamin said: "It spoils
       people's clothes to squeeze under a
       gate; the proper way to get in is to
       climb down a pear-tree."
       Peter fell down head first; but it
       was of no consequence, as the bed
       below was newly raked and quite
       soft.
       It had been sown with lettuces.
       They left a great many odd little
       footmarks all over the bed, especially
       little Benjamin, who was wearing
       clogs.
       Little Benjamin said that the first
       thing to be done was to get back
       Peter's clothes, in order that they
       might be able to use the pocket-
       handkerchief.
       They took them off the scarecrow.
       There had been rain during the night;
       there was water in the shoes, and the
       coat was somewhat shrunk.
       Benjamin tried on the tam-o'-
       shanter, but it was too big for him.
       Then he suggested that they should
       fill the pocket-handkerchief with
       onions, as a little present for his Aunt.
       Peter did not seem to be enjoying
       himself; he kept hearing noises.
       Benjamin, on the contrary, was
       perfectly at home, and ate a lettuce
       leaf. He said that he was in the habit
       of coming to the garden with his
       father to get lettuces for their Sunday
       dinner.
       (The name of little Benjamin's papa
       was old Mr. Benjamin Bunny.)
       The lettuces certainly were very
       fine.
       Peter did not eat anything; he said
       he should like to go home. Presently
       he dropped half the onions.
       Little Benjamin said that it was not
       possible to get back up the pear-tree
       with a load of vegetables. He led the
       way boldly towards the other end of
       the garden. They went along a little
       walk on planks, under a sunny, red
       brick wall.
       The mice sat on their doorsteps
       cracking cherry-stones; they winked
       at Peter Rabbit and little Benjamin
       Bunny.
       Presently Peter let the pocket-
       handkerchief go again.
       They got amongst flower-pots, and
       frames, and tubs. Peter heard noises
       worse than ever; his eyes were as big
       as lolly-pops!
       He was a step or two in front of his
       cousin when he suddenly stopped.
       This is what those little rabbits saw
       round that corner!
       Little Benjamin took one look, and
       then, in half a minute less than no
       time, he hid himself and Peter and the
       onions underneath a large basket. . . .
       The cat got up and stretched
       herself, and came and sniffed at the
       basket.
       Perhaps she liked the smell of onions!
       Anyway, she sat down upon the top
       of the basket.
       She sat there for five hours.
       I cannot draw you a picture of
       Peter and Benjamin underneath the
       basket, because it was quite dark, and
       because the smell of onions was
       fearful; it made Peter Rabbit and little
       Benjamin cry.
       The sun got round behind the
       wood, and it was quite late in the
       afternoon; but still the cat sat upon
       the basket.
       At length there was a pitter-patter,
       pitter-patter, and some bits of mortar
       fell from the wall above.
       The cat looked up and saw old Mr.
       Benjamin Bunny prancing along the
       top of the wall of the upper terrace.
       He was smoking a pipe of rabbit-
       tobacco, and had a little switch in his
       hand.
       He was looking for his son.
       Old Mr. Bunny had no opinion
       whatever of cats. He took a
       tremendous jump off the top of the
       wall on to the top of the cat, and
       cuffed it off the basket, and kicked it
       into the greenhouse, scratching off a
       handful of fur.
       The cat was too much surprised to
       scratch back.
       When old Mr. Bunny had driven the
       cat into the greenhouse, he locked the
       door.
       Then he came back to the basket
       and took out his son Benjamin by the
       ears, and whipped him with the little
       switch.
       Then he took out his nephew Peter.
       Then he took out the handkerchief
       of onions, and marched out of the
       garden.
       When Mr. McGregor returned
       about half an hour later he observed
       several things which perplexed him.
       It looked as though some person
       had been walking all over the garden
       in a pair of clogs--only the footmarks
       were too ridiculously little!
       Also he could not understand how
       the cat could have managed to shut
       herself up inside the greenhouse,
       locking the door upon the outside.
       When Peter got home his mother
       forgave him, because she was so glad
       to see that he had found his shoes and
       coat. Cotton-tail and Peter folded up
       the pocket-handkerchief, and old Mrs.
       Rabbit strung up the onions and hung
       them from the kitchen ceiling, with
       the benches of herbs and the rabbit-
       tobacco.