Runaway Rabbit

Dominion, Volume 34, Issue 27, 26 October 1940, Page 16

Runaway Rabbit

(Origihal, by Lady Constance (14), Blenheim.) rabbit cautiously opened one sleepy eye and took a sly peep at his mother. He saw with satisfaction that she was sleeping soundly. Sitting up noiselessly, he began carefully to clean his little white waistcoat. At last, with a final glance at his unsuspecting guardian he tip-toed through the little doorway out on to the hillside. He gave a rapturous sigh. “Free at last!” he cried as he gaily skipped along. It was the first time that he had been outside alone. How excited he was! On the top of a little mound he stopped and looked about him. Now, where would he go? On one side the green fields and pastures stretched away to the distant hills. Behind him were the burrows of his playmates who were all taking their afternoon naps. At that thought Whiskers gave another skip for the fun of it. The front view seemed more exciting. There was a deep, clear pool of water fringed by dark, mysterious trees.

Something seemed to urge him toward the pool. He had never been there before. At the edge of the water he clambered up on to a mossy boulder. Carefully lie leaned over. But what was that? Down there in the water another face looked up at him. Whiskers smiled politely. The other face smiled at the same time.

Puzzled, Whiskers stretched out his paw. Then it happened—splash ! —and Whiskers was in the water. Frantically he struggled, gasping and spluttering. At last he could struggle no longer. Limply his paw fell to his side and he slowly sank'down, down. He could feel the water lapping against his chin. Suddenly a sharp pain shot up his foot Weakly he stumbled to a rock. He lay there exhausted. When he was rested he crawled back to land.

He looked very different now with his little waistcoat all muddy and wet. As he was creeping home he met Billy Bun, one of his playmates.

“Where have you been, Whiskers?” Billy exclaimed, “you are all wet!” Whiskers crept by without a word, his ears burning with shame. Silently he went into the burrow to find his mother distressed and weeping over his disappearance. With a sob she caught Whiskers to her and kissed the tip of his shiny black nose. Half an hour later it was a clean and dry Whiskers who was tucked into his cosy little bed.

“It doesn’t pay, really,” he murmured as he turned over beneath his snug bedclothes. And with a sigh of contentment he fell asleep.