How Mr Rabbit became Black

Southland Times, Issue 21820, 24 September 1932, Page 18

How Mr Rabbit became Black

—First Prize—- “ Any fairy who offers a suitable scheme for making Mr Rabbit, our detective, invisible when the hobzgoblins hold their meeting, will be handsomely rewarded!” This notice appeared everywhere in Fairyland, where Queen Starshine lived in constant fear of her enemies, the hobgoblins. These wicked gnomes endeavoured to kidnap the fairies’ beloved queen, so the Little People had employed the services of Mr Rabbit, a highly intelligent bunny, to see what the hobgoblins were planning next. One day Brown Eyes and Tinkerbell set off for the Bo Bo wood. Although they were afraid, they kept bravely on, determined to be of use to their queen. In the Bo Bo wood dwelt the Wise Women. Also dwelling there were snakes and other terrible creatures. Hand in hand, the two fairies timidly entered the dark forest. Mysterious shapes and shadows loomed before them, while strange, weird noises echoed through the grim darkness of the night. No moon brightened their way, and the two fairies were very glad when they came to the hut of the wise woman. She was a queer, wizened-up little creature, with black eyes gleaming from beneath bushy brows. Long, grey, matter hair straggled to her shoulders. She was bending over a bubbling cauldron when the fairies approached and she looked a queer, mysterious figure, with the red embers of her fire lighting up her wrinkled face. “Where are you going, and what do you seek in the Bo Bo wood?” she demanded in a high-pitched voice. Bright Eyes, much the braver of the two, answered: “We came to see if you could help us, dear Wise Woman. The hobgoblins are endeavouring to capture our queen, and we want to be prepared for their visit. Can you tell us how to make Mr Rabbit invisible, so that when our enemies hold their meeting, he may overhear their plans without fear of discovery?” The old woman thought awile, then said, “Go through this wood until you come to the end. Standing alone is a tree, which is very dark. Take with you this little box, go up to thetree and rub it. You will find that a powder comes off the bark. Fill your box and go your way. To colour the rabbit, mix enough dew drops with the powder to make a liquid. Bath Mr Rabbit in this and you will find him dark. As the hobgoblins converse only at night, he will be invisible.” Thanking her, Brown Eyes and Tinkerbell departed, less frightened by the terrors of the forest. They journeyed until they came to the end of the Bo Bo wood. Bright sunshine greeted them, and there, standing alone, was a tree, very dark against the golden sunlight. They quickly filled their box and, looking round, beheld Mr Sparrow, preening his feathers on a nearby bush. “Hurry up,” he cried. “I’m just going. Jump on my back and I’ll take you to Fairyland. When they reached the queen, they found all of the fairies anxious about them. “We thought that something had happened to you,” they explained. Tinkerbell and Brown Eyes related their adventures and, at the Queen’s command Mr Rabbit was brought to the courtroom. He was bathed in the liquid, and when he had been brushed and combed, he looked a different bunny altogether, so dark was he. “We shall name the colour blacfc,” said Queen Starshine, “just plain black.” Tinkerbell and Brown Eyes were made the chief waiting maids of their queen, and were much admired and petted by everyone. That night Mr Rabbit set off for the hobgoblins’ country. He hid amongst the bushes and overheard the wicked gnomes planning to kidnap the queen the next evening. They thought the fairies would be taken unawares, but they reckoned without our clever bunny. He hastened back to Fairyland, and the next evening the hobgoblins received an unpleasant surprise, for, when they entered the land of the Little People, fairy soldiers were awaiting them. Some escaped but most of them were killed. From that day nothing has been seen or heard of the wicked hobgoblins. -3/- and 4 marks to Cousin Daphne Swift (13), 178 McMaster St., Invercargill. —Second Prize—- “ Where is little Master Greyrabbit?” No one could supply the answer to that question and no one ever would, if he could help it. So through fences, over hill and over dale the young rascal in question scampered, enjoying the freedom of his youth. At last he came to a long winding road. Nearby were some men, and nearer still was a tin with some black stuff in it. What was it? Master Greyrabbit thought he would investigate, so ever the intervening space he frisked. Suddenly the shadow of an approaching something loomed up in front of him. Great was his anxiety and annoyance when be beheld—a dog! He ran towards the attractive tin, but too late. He ran too far, and in his haste he fell, splosh! in the black, sticky substance. Ugh! he squirmed and twisted so much that he got it is his ears, up his nose, and even in his mouth. When his heart stopped going pit-a-pat, he poked his little black head out of the tin, and cautiously looked about him. At last the dauntless little hero emerged from the horrid squirmy mesh, only to see his pursuer disappear round a comer. How glad he was! On he slithered until he reached his burrow, where his very angry mummy was awaiting him. “Where have you been, and my goodness! what have you seen doing. Your fur is perfectly black,” she stormed. “It’s not perfec’ly black, all over, is it mummy?” whined bunny boy. “Yes, and you deserve to be punished,” scolded Mother Greyrabbit severely. , “P-p-please m-mum-mummy I’ll try an’ be good for evem’ for ever an for ever an’ ” “For goodness sake stop chattering and get off to bed. No, bring me a pail of water and a brush and we’ll see if we can get this stuff off your fur,” said mummy. But try as she would, Mother Rabbit could not get the mess off her little son. The tar—for that was what it was—would persist sticking to the brush. t “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay black,” grumbled his mother. “You 11 be a disgrace to the Greyrabbit family.” And was Master Rabbit angry? Not he! After looking at himself in the glass for about half an hour he decided he looked far nicer as he was—black. So all his descendents have been perfec’ly black. —2l- and 3 marks to Cousin Winsome Blue (12), 69 Elies road, Invercargill.

—Highly Commended.— Nowadays there are rabbits everwhere, but at one time all the rabbits in the world were in one place. They lived in a great warren on the side of a hill by the seaside. On sunny mornings and evenings they would all sit on the hillside basking in the sun, but in rough weather they stayed snug and warm in their big under-ground home. Of course there was a King Rabbit and his Queen, besides all the ordinary rabbits, but they were all alike in colour, just the ordinary grey rabbits we see nowadays. Their numbers grew, and as they grew, the rabbits burrowed further and further into the big hill, always keeping a nice easy distance from the top, so that they could get out easily to feed. One day a terrible thing happened. There was a great rumbling and shaking in the ground. The rabbits were tossed about and bruised, some were buried under loose earth, and a lot were left in distant parts of the warren because their tunnels were blocked. This was an earthquake of course, and for a while they were all terror stricken. By and by, however, they got over their fright, and commenced to get things in order again. They cleared all the tunnels, and were able at last to get all their numbers together in one place. • It was then that they noticed a steady roar overhead. There was a lot of guessing as to what this noise was, but most agreed that it sounded like the sea, that always roared at the foot of their home. Then another awful discovery was made. Every way out of the warren to the top was completely blocked up. Not a place was left for them to get out for food. No food was stored because the rabbits ate nothing but fresh green food. The most trouble was caused however, by the rushing noise overhead for they soon discovered what an awful thing had happened. The earthquake had sunk their home right beneath the sea, and unless something was quickly done they would soon all die of starvation. To add to their terror water was slowly dripping through their roof and all the bunnies feared water. They spent a miserable night, for no one seemed to be able to suggest a way of escape. All this time one particular rabbit had been thinking and scheming hard. He started exploring the farthest burrows by himself. He found one place at last where the rush of water seemed to cease. Hurriedly he started burrowing, gradually rising upward, still there was no sound of water overhead. It was hard work but he kept on. After a time, however, the ground grew

looser till it became a very fine powder which was easily moved. He worked better in this but he did not know that the stuff was as black as ink. Neither did he know that he himself was quite jet black. In a short time he came to a soft earth and after a few minutes of eager scratching he was overjoyed to see a bright spot above, that he knew was daylight. Without waiting to quite finish, he raced back to his companions who had by this time given up hope, for water was pouring in now. Hastily be bade them follow him and soon the King was racing for his life up the new tunnel followed closely by the rest. In a short time all were safely at the top in sunshine again. Gratefully the King turned to thank their rescuer and there he was, as black as the darkness they had just left, and wash as he would, it would, not come off. However it was looked on by the King as a special gift from the good fairies for his bravery, and he was made the most important rabbit in the land. Ever since, as a memorial .to his bravery, a black rabbit is bom in each bunny colony to remind the whole world how they were saved by their brave forefather.

—2 marks to Cousin Margaret Jellyman, (12). Queen Street Otautau.

Swish! Bang! ! Peter Bunny raced out of the garden barely missing a rake tlirown at him by the gardener. It was the third time his feasts had been disturbed and he dared not venture in again. He was, oh, so hungry for a nice juicy cabbage and the ones he had seen made him hungrier. He wandered disconsolately over the meadow towards the wood. Oh hurrah, he could seen a thin spiral of smoke curling up from the trees and that meant a house, and a house meant a garden, and a garden was sure to mean cabbages. So off he went towards the house.

When he arrived there, to his dismay it was surround by a brick wall. Now what would he do ? He sat down wearily to think it out. At last he came to the conclusion that he could burrow under the wall.

After a lot of hard work he finally emerged triumphantly on the other side of the wall and what he saw fairly made his eyes bulge. For there in neat rows, were the most luscious cabbages he had ever seen. Before beginning his feast Peter looked round, and a second time he was awstruck but this time with dismay, for over the door of the cottage he read this notice, “Witch Croaker’s Cottage.” Oh dear, so this is where the terrible Witch Croaker lived. How often had his

mother warned him never to go near her hated cottage and if he did he must certainly never eat anything out of her garden or something terrible would happen. He looked again at the cabbages, surely one bite would not hurt. He drew a bit nearer, yes, he would take just one bite. He took one bite then just one more and so on until he could eat no more. He began to feel just a wee bit sick and his head ached badly. Something strange had come oyer him. He put up his paw to rub his head, Horrors! it was all black! Quickly he looked at the other paw, it was black too. His punishment had come—he was a black rabbit. Feeling very sorry for himself (for a black rabbit in a rabbit’s eyes is a thing to be shunned by all) he crawled back through his hole and wended his way across fields, through hedges and copses till at last he arrived home. There his brothers and sisters were playing contentedly. When he arrived they all began to jeer at him and when he declared he was their brother they declared he wasn’t because their brother was a nice grey bunny not a horrid black one. So for the rest of his life Peter was compelled to live aloof from his fellow rabbits, all because he was too greedy to heed his mother’s warning. —2 marks to Cousin Molly Macalister (12), 111 Dalrymple Road, Invercargill. Master Rabbit scowled dismally as he saw Miss Lacey Rabbit coming in his direction. There was no shelter about him, so he made the best of. what was inevitable by smiling sweetly as she went by, just as if he had good cause to be sweet. Sweet! Sweet—to her—when all the time he would have liked to pull her hair—drat her! With a final scowl after her he hurried on, pulling his coat collar higher round his neck, his shiny top-hat over one eye. Certainly his temper was not all it should have been; and it was not at all improved when he arrived at his destina—tion, to find the waiting room crowded. Where was he going? Oh, to the hairdressers, of course, on a ghastly errand, according to Master Rabbit. He took a seat, and Was not at all pleased to find Mrs Rabbit, a portly neighbour, sitting beside him. Instantly she opened up a conversation, a rather one-sided conversation, I must admit. When she was getting warmed to her subject, and was reciting all her family’s ailments, Master Rabbit’s coat suddenly burst open, to display before Mrs Rabbit how grey his hair was.. “Oh my poor boy,” exclaimed the dear soul, “Do you take care of yourself! Really, I cannot understand your being grey already! Now my Horace, he has not a single grey hair. And do you know, I give all. the credit to—” she continued with the names of many medicines, until Master Rabbit wentin to the barber, in a raging mood. “What’s wrong my lad?” questioned the amiable barber, seeing Master Rabbit so disgruntled. “What’s wrong?” snapped Master Rabbit. “What isn’t wrong! Drat, a thousand times drat the girl; it’s all her fault!” “What’s that, man? Come, relieve your feelings, tell an old fried!” Master Rabbit sat in the chair, giving a huge sigh. It tickled his pride to be called “man,” that pride that had been his downfall. “Can I depend on you to keep my secret? Well, it was this way—when I was younger, I was extremely handsome, being on a snowy white colour. I was envied by all the young men of the city, and beloved in the sight of the maidens. My master, at that time was a very spoilt boy, who was always teasing me. One day he was told to go into the garden to draw me. This he did and when he had started, along came Miss Lacey Rabbit from nextdoor. She sat behind the boy, and began tormenting me. First she ran over to the left, stared at me, then sniggered; then she ran over to the right, and looked down her nose at me. After that she just laughed and made faces alternately at me, until I became indignant. You remember, perhaps, my great-grandfather; it was from liim I inherited my fiery,- dashing nature. So it was, goaded beyond cool thinking, I sprang after Miss Lacey Rabbit; but unfortunately I misjudged the distance, and I fell over a bottie of black ink the boy was using. Instantly I was covered by the black fluid, and my beautiful coat —alas—it was hopelessly ruined. Of course this delighted Miss Rabbit, but ever since I have been forced to visit your establishment weekly, that I might overcome the difficulty with dignity. As it turns a shade lighter, I have it dyed black again. Miss Lacey Rabbit could not say too much, however, for people began to admire my glossy black hair. Still-” “Ha! Ha! I think that’s priceless, Master Rabbit. Won’t my wife laugh when she hears! Ha-ha!” “But surely—you promised to keep it a secret ! n “Did I? I don’t think so! She must hear that bit! Ha-ha!” “Oh!” groaned Master Rabbit, “And . she is known the world over for being unable to keep a secret! That gossip!” “What!” shouted the barber in ferocious tones. “Call my wife names would you!” Master Rabbit hastily took his departure wondering where he would go next week. 2 marks to Cousin Constance Fox (15), 94 Earn Street, Invercargill. Many many years ago, when all rabbits were grey in colour, there was one named Pop-Winkle. This little rabbit had a very kind nature and was always doing a good turn to someone. Sadly enough, however, Pop-Winkle had caught one of his legs in a trap in Mr Green’s vegetable garden. Poor little rabbit! He escaped at last after a painful ordeal of wriggling and twisting; but alas! Had not he left half his leg in the trap? Instead of pitying Pop-Winkle, the other rabbits despised and jeered at him. “Look at that ugly rabbit over there,” a rabbit would say. “How’s Mr Three-And-Half-Legs today?” another would say to PopWinkle. Such were the mocking remarks made by the young scamps of Rabbitland. One day, poor Pop-Winkle was sitting disconsolately on some lovely fresh, green, grass; he had not the heart to eat any, for his leg was paining him very much. The sun was shining brightly and all looked so pleasant, whilst the gay flowers rendered a sweet fragrance to all who passed that way. Presently, a small fairy dressed in a gown of yellow tinged with violet hues, stepped daintily out of a daffodil, and alighted on the grass before the forlorn, heartbroken rabbit.

Pop-Winkle, hearing not the step of this dainty vision, remained in the same disconsolate attitude, with hiffl head dropped in sorrow. “Ah, Master Rabbit, I see you are in trouble,” began the silvery voice which sounded as tinkling bells in the far dis* tance.

Pop-Winkle raised his head slowly at the words, replying, “I am afraid I am in trouble as I have broken my leg and all the rabbits look down on me.”

“Poor Rabbit,” said the fairy. She pondered for a few seconds and at last formed a plan. (Fairies are quick thinkers). “Master Rabbit, if you come down to Fairyland, I shall see if I can help you. The fairies are wonderful people, you know. I shall ask the King what is to be done.

Arrived in Fairyland, Pop-Winkle was at once summoned to the king. “Well,” began the king, “You may live here with us in Fairyland for a

certain time. Of course you will have to work for your living. This can be done by being one of my servants. If you prove a useful handy, hard working rabbit for a certain time you , will ' be rewarded well.” Pop-Winkle felt very happy. He hopped away to employ himself as a servant of the kind, fairy king. The rabbit carried large ivy-leaves to the king’s palace to make summer-houses, gathered daisies to strew about the palace drawing-room, and in fact, made himself generally useful. Above all, Pop-Winkle did kind deeds to every fairy around. He even made new inventions in Fairyland, and gave the king useful knowledge from Rabbitland which greatly assisted in ruling the fairies. After a very short time, Pop-Winkle was ordered to present himself to the king. "I hear you have been doing good deeds as well as working extremely hard,” said the king, “Therefore I have shortened your time of trial and as a reward shall allow you to have any wish you like.” The rabbit sighed with gratitude. “Oh! King. I should love to be beautiful before going back to Rabbitland.” “Then you shall have your wish,” said the king. “Your leg will be made right again and you shall also be the most beautiful rabbit in the world. “The king waved his wand. Pop-Winkle looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, to be sure there he was; but oh! so different. Was not his coat of a jet black colour. Pop-Winkle ' thanked the king. “Also, your descendants, shall have jet black coats. Then there will be an occasional black rabbit in the world, which will remind every rabbit of the heroic little Pop-Winkle for ever-more.” —2 marks to Cousin Annie Birch (14). “Helenswood,” Kapuka.

Down in their nice cool home lived Mr and Mrs Coney, and their family of three, William, Robert, and Jessica, called Bill, Bob, and Bunty. While they were very young, they used to have great fun playing with the other rabbits in the fields, or stealing cabbages at night from the gardens. Bill was rather a quiet, shy fellow and kept apart from the others, but Bob was full of fun, always in mischief, and Bunty always followed him. One night Bob thought he would like to go and explore the dim, dark forest the other side of the fence. Bill tried to dissuade him, saying that there were all sorts of unknown dangers awaiting unwary rabbits, but Bob only twirled his whiskers.

“Poof! I’m not scared,” he declared. “Are you coming Bunty?” turning to his sister. “That’s if you’re not afraid.” “Of course I’m not!” cried Bunty indignantly. “Well, came on then.” Off they scampered, then, through the corn, under the fence and into the bush. They ran through the ferns beside a cool trickling stream, chased butterflies down shady, carpeted aisles, and nibbled at the juicy roots of tender young plants. At last, Bunty felt tired, so they decided to turn back. “ Ithink it’s this path, isn’t it,” said Bunty a little while later, as Boh went to turn down a path. “No, I’m sure it’s this one,” said Bob. “All right,” said Bunty, “you know best.” They went on in silence for some time, when suddenly Bunty stopped again. “No, Bob, I’m sure this is the wrong way.”

"Rats,” said Bob. “But it isn’t.” Bunty insisted. “Look, we didn’t pass that funny-looking tree before, I’m sure.” “Oh I expect we did, only we didn’t notice it,” said Bob, trying to speak with assurance, but he was really feeling a little doubtful. “Well, let’s go a bit further,” said Bunty, “and see.” They went slowly on, both beginning to feel a bit nervous. Suddenly, Bunty heard Bob give a sqeal, and he disappeared through the ground. “Bob,” she called, but there was no answer. “Oh dear, what shall I do. Bob, Bob!” She could not see or hear anything, so sat down, crying, until it was light. She called again, but received no answer, nor could she see where Bob had disappeared. It did not seem to be much use staying there, so Bunty wandered disconsolately back down the path, and soon found a place she remembered. It did not take her long then to scamper home, and tell her mother the sad tale. Six years later, Mr and Mrs Coney were sitting by the fire in their cosy burrow. Bill was away, but Bunty was sitting in the comer. Somehow, the talk came round to that night, years before, when young Bob had disappeared so strangely. Suddenly they heard someone coming down the stairs, knock at the door and open it. A strange black shape appeared on the threshold. "Hullo, everybody,” it said, “Don’t you know me Mother?” “It’s Bob,” shrieked Bunty, and ran to him. "Yes, it’s me all right,” said Bob, for he it was. “But how did you get all black, like that?” asked Mrs Coney. “Give me some of that lettuce, first, and then I’ll tell you all about it.” As soon as he was satisfied they gathered round him. “Well, when I fell, I went down, down and down, until I fell with a splash! into a great big cauldron. An ugly old witch had just put it on the fire, so it wasn’t hot.” A shudder ran round the little group. ”1 had fallen down her chimney, so I. was too black for her to eat. She fished me out, and I begged her to let me go, but she said I would have to work for her for six years, but I’d never be able to get the black off. To-day, the six years was up, and I asked if I could go, but she said I could wait till to-morrow. I began to get suspicious when she put on a cauldron on the fire, and kept looking at me, so I waited the chance, and then I got behind her and pushed her in. Then I slammed the lid on, and went for my life.” There was great rejoicing and they had a lovely feast of lettuce leaves to celebrate, and everyone forgave Bob for causing so much anxiety. But he was never able to wash off the black no matter how he scrubbed himself. —2 marks to Cousin Dorothy M. Fox, (16) 94 Earn street, Invercargill. —Commended. — In the new burrow, which was fitted out with everything rabbits require, was bom a pretty white rabbit. He was the sweetest being on earth with his soft white fur and pink lined ears, and the sweetest of blue eyes. His name was Master Bunny Rabbit—a peculiar name to be sure. Master Rabbit grew up to be a mischievious little bunny, however. Every morning he would run into the open air from his burrow and perform his regular daily dozen. After breakfast, however, he would instead of doing specially selected work, look for pranks of some description. One day when creeping under a fence he was just missed by the shot of a gun but succeeded in getting through and was confronted by a mass of turnips ready to be eaten. Master Rabbit was to be the first one that day blit was no sooner happily munching away than the owner of the field of turnips caught him by the ears and dropped him into an enclosed darkbox. “800 hooh,” sobbed he. How he wished he could escape and get some more turnips. "I shall push, and push, and push, and push, ” cried he as he gave a push corresponding to each spoken “push.” Imagine Master Rabbit’s surprise when the side broke open and he found himself not in the open but in a long

passage named the “Passage of Inquisitiveness.” One door said:— “Inside this door Upon the floor Is something which you’ll not adore.” “No,” said Rabbit to himself, “I’ll go in the next door.” This door said;—

“You can come if you must To find a bag of fine dust.”. The door was stiff, so he again had to push, push push. “Pretty stiff, this door,” he sighed and at that moment bang! 1 As he fell with the door a bag opened and in flopped he. Master Rabbit had expected to find some gold dust to take home with him; but instead he had to take himself home—his poor miserable self who was now black as pitch with the soot from the bag. “So that is what you get for wanting to see what is in everything. That has taught you a lesson, my son,” were the words spoken by Mr Rabbit when his son Bunny returned home in his new black coat.

And now there are several rabbits who are black and they are ones who are always inquisitive. Thus inquisitive rabbits can be detected by their black fur.

—1 mark to Cousin Zoe Smith (14), "Sherwood,” 24 Mitchell Street Invercargill.

Master Jack Rabbit had the apparent ability of always getting into trouble and emerging therefrom unscathed, because of his possession of the art of dissimilation. He went to school with other young rabbits just the same, but none of the young scholars could equal his daring, nor his speed, nor his skill at observing pursuers. If Jack Rabbit suggested a day’s outing at any place along the river, none of them dared refuse, because of their leader’s superiority in a rough-and-tumble. Now, their teacher had flogged Master Jack, kept him in detention, given him extra work, had told that young rabbit’s parents several times, but all to no avail. Every day some new escapade of his was brought to light. It was even rumoured that he had braved the dogs of Farmer Brown, and had revelled in the field of fresh turnips to which he had gained access; but this is an exaggeration which even Master Jack would not verify if questioned. At last, the climax came. Master Rabbit’s teacher had a very fine cane which he very seldom used, and which adorned the large, dreary wall of the “school.” Master Rabbit had often cast envious eyes on it, and fingered the broken knife that lay in his pockets. This day he could not resist the temptation, and began cutting the cane. In a moment of foolhardy recklessness, he left pieces lying on the floor, and put the rest in his desk. The teacher was ver" angry, and urged the “scoundrel’s” parent to take him from school. This, he reluctantly did, and Master Jack, now released from the burden of school, pursued his mischievous young life.

One day Master Jack’s auntie went for a holiday, in company with Uncle and gave Master Jack strict instructions to mind the house and not to eat all the cake. Jack very eagerly agreed, for this was something extraordinary, keeping house. He would invite Baby Bruin to come, and make toffee. There was a liberal supply of cake so Jack Rabbit divided it into two portions, taking one himself and leaving the other. Then he went in search of Bruin. This excellent fellow lived in a wood not far from Jack Rabbit’s home, so he was soon found, and emphatically refused at first to accompany such a common fellow as Rabbit. But he changed his tune (just a trifle) when Rabbit mentioned the cake, and, with the aid of some clever persuasion at right intervals, he was soon as excited and expectant about it as Rabbit was.

They soort arrived at their “rendezvous” and, having styled himself cook,

Bruin proceeded to wait for Rabbit to prepare the needs to make a fair amount of toffee. Rabbit had to be content to be assistant and having cleaned out the pot, prepared to watch Bruin’s housewifely ability. After a while a sticky, black liquid formed itself on the bottom of the pot and Bruin ordered Rabbit to hold the pot. This Rabbit did, and, unfortunately, he jerked the handle and Bruin’s masterpiece tumbled down onto his beautiful coat.

No longer would the proud Rabbit boast of his beautiful grey coat, for it was now as black as pitch. He consoled himself with the fact ‘ that it would be something new to have a black coat; but Rabbit sadly refused to try any means of diverting himself of this black substance. He received a severe scolding from both his parents, and soon came to like the stir he caused. He was still the old indulger of fun, the spirit of which was only quelled when his old schoolmaster died. —1 mark to Cousin James Lynch (13), Main street, Otautau.

Tipperty, clipperty went Master Rabbit’s feet as he raced along the road. “Oh! I must get there in time, I must get there,” he panted. “Where are you going?” called Little Jack Rabbit cheerily. “Can’t stop, can’t stop,” replied Master Rabbit.

“You are in a hurry,” cried Little Jack Rabbit as he hopped along beside Master Rabbit. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to tell the rabbits of Sunny Bank that old Foxy is going to dig them out to-night.” “Oh! my,” ejaculated Little Jack Rabbit, “May I come with you?” “If you wish to,” responded Master Rabbit.

“Ah! here’s Sunny Bank at last,” said Little Jack Rabbit.

"Come right in,” came a cheery voice from the burrow. Master Rabbit and Little Jack Rabbit went into the burrow, but none to soon, for they were just in when they heard a low snarl which told them the Fox was outside.

“Old*Foxy’s coming to dig you out,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, “he’s outside the burrow.”

“Foxy,” cried the others, “we can’t escape.” “Yes we can,” said Master Rabbit in a low voice, “stand by.” Then he started to dig in the wet, black soil.

“Look,” whispered Little Jack Rabbit, “he’s .going to make a tunnel to the other side of the hill.”

Before long the tunnel was made, and the rabbits were just scampering away when the Fox looked up. With a snarl of rage he went after them, but when he reached the place where he had seen the rabbits, they had disappeared. The Fox looked round. “They’re down that rabbit burrow,” he cried, and he began to dig it out. Under the ground Master Rabbit was working hard, but this time he decided to make a tunnel round behind the Fox’s back. “I didn’t think this tunnel was so long,” growled the Fox as he kept on scraping. Soon all the rabbits had run out and Master Rabbit was following when the Fox turned round. “What’s this,” he said, “a niece of mud,” and he went on digging. Master Rabbit soon joined his companions and told them of his adventure—“and this black will not come off, but I rubbed a little off my tail,” he finished up with.

—1 mark to Cousin Joan Carswell (11), Fortification.