Bumper, The White Rabbit | Page 4

interested. But while they stopped and waited for him to proceed, Bumper chewed away at his carrot until it was all gone. Then, picking up a second one, he said: "Now I'm up with you. I'm on my second carrot. To-morrow morning I'll tell you the rest of the dream."
Jimsy and Wheedles were greatly surprised and angered at the trick Bumper had played upon them, and they immediately began eating their carrots again as fast as they could.
They were in the midst of their breakfast when the old woman came in the backyard with her basket. All the rabbits set up a commotion then, for they knew she would choose some of them to take away and sell. There were two reasons why they all wanted to be chosen.
One was they liked the change from their narrow quarters to the street corner and the sights of the city. Another was they all hoped some day to be sold and taken away to a big house where they would be petted and fed until their little stomachs would nearly burst open. They were a little crowded in their home, and new baby rabbits were coming all the time so that if some of them weren't sold they'd soon be walking all over each other.
"Now, which ones shall I take to-day?" the old woman mumbled, smiling upon all of them.
They all bobbed their heads and blinked their pink eyes, and Jimsy jumped over Bumper's back and hopped right into the woman's hands.
"Well, Jimsy," she said, "you seem very anxious to go, so I'll take you for one."
Wheedles tried the same trick, but it didn't work the second time. "No, Wheedles, you've got a cold," she said, pushing him back. "People don't want to buy rabbits that have colds."
Bumper had no cold, and he decided to try his luck, but Topsy, a big rabbit, got in his way, and nearly bowled him over. Bumper squealed, and the old woman pushed Topsy away.
"No, you can't go for being so rough," she scolded. "Poor little Bumper, did Topsy hurt you?"
Bumper was sure then that she intended to take him along with Jimsy; but no! she put him down gently, and selected three others. Bumper's disappointment was so great that a tear came into one of his pink eyes.
It was mother who consoled him when the old woman had filled her basket and left the yard. "Never mind, dear, your time will come. You're younger than Jimsy."
"But why should I always be left at home?" complained Bumper.
"It's the place for little rabbits," was the reply. "There's no place so safe and comfortable."
"But you always told us some day we'd find a better home, with plenty to eat, and nothing to do," whimpered Bumper, who felt quite cross. "Why did you tell us that?"
Mother rabbit looked quite perplexed for a moment. "I think, dear," she said finally, "you ask more questions than any child I ever had."
Bumper's eyes shone with amusement. "I have a million more of them to ask, mother. I dreamt of them last night."
"Then," laughing at him, "find the answers to them in your dreams to-night."
The next day Bumper had his turn, and then again the following day, but each time he returned home unsold. Jimsy was bought by a little boy, and triumphantly carried off, and Wheedles was captured by a girl. Even Topsy, who was big and clumsy, found a purchaser, and disappeared from the backyard. On returning home the fourth time, Bumper was in a disappointed mood, and felt very unhappy.
"Why is it, mother," he asked, "that no one buys me? Am I so homely that no one wants me?"
"What a question to ask, dear!" smiled mother rabbit. Then, patting him on the head, she added: "Bend down your ears, and I'll whisper a secret in them."
Bumper squatted down, and pulled both long ears toward his mother so he wouldn't miss a word.
"It isn't good for little rabbits to hear what I'm going to tell you," she whispered. "It often makes them proud and vain; but I suppose you will know it some day."
Mother rabbit sighed, as if the secret was hard to tell, and not very pleasant to hear. Mothers are very queer sometimes, even rabbit mothers.
"It's because you're so beautiful, dear!" she whispered finally. "You're whiter than any of my children, and you have the softest fur, and the pinkest eyes. Now do you understand?"
No, Bumper didn't understand a bit. He was more perplexed than ever. If he was handsomer than other white rabbits, then why didn't people buy him first? Why did they look at him, and return him to the basket, and say:
"I guess I'll take the other one?"
"It must be people don't know how pretty I am," he said finally. "What can I do to make