Bumper, The White Rabbit | Page 8

his hind legs. "Let me have him this minute. You'll kill him!"
"No, I won't! He's mine! Isn't he, Aunt Helen? You brought him to me, didn't you? There now, Mary, she nodded her head! I'm going to keep him."
"But, dear, you must be very gentle with him," said Aunt Helen. "You'll hurt him carrying him that way."
"That's the way to carry rabbits, by their hind legs," replied Toby. "I saw them in the market the other day--a whole bunch of them--hanging by their hind legs."
"But they were dead rabbits, Toby, and not live, white ones. Now let me show you how to hold him."
But Toby was more interested in the experiment of making Bumper squeal than in listening to his aunt's instructions. It was better than the squeaking camel he had or the girl's doll that said mamma every time you squeezed it. All he had to do was to squeeze the legs or swing the rabbit around to make him squeal. Each time he laughed and shouted with joy.
Mary could stand this cruel torture no longer. She made a dive for Bumper, and caught him by the fore paws. In the struggle that followed Bumper was likely to be pulled apart. What might have happened no one could tell if the door had not suddenly opened, and a young girl, with red hair and freckles on her nose, entered. She was humming some tune to herself or to the doll she carried in her hands; but she stopped singing, and stared at Toby and Mary pulling at the white rabbit.
Then she dropped her doll, and sprang forward to Bumper's rescue. "Oh, that's my rabbit, cousin Mary!" she cried. "It's the one I wanted to buy from the old woman, but I didn't have the money. Let go of him, Toby! You're hurting him!"
"I won't! He's mine!" came the reply. "You let go of him!"
"He's not! He's mine!"
"He ain't! He's mine!"
"Stop that!" cried the girl, when Toby squeezed the legs so hard Bumper whimpered with pain.
"I won't! I'll squeeze him all I want to."
To make good his word he gave the rabbit a harder squeeze. Then something happened that surprised every one. The girl raised a hand, and boxed Toby's ears so hard that it made him howl.
"Now, take that, and see how it feels to be hurt!"
Toby clapped both hands to his ears, and in a flash the red-headed girl seized Bumper in her arms and ran pell-mell from the room. Toby started after her, but when the door slammed in his face he flopped down on the floor to howl and kick just like a baby who had eaten pickles instead of good milk for breakfast.

STORY V
BUMPER AND THE RED-HEADED GIRL
The red-headed girl, with the freckles on her nose, and a dimple in her chin, didn't stop until she was on the top floor of the big house where Toby's howls couldn't be heard. She opened the door of a dark room, and went in, slamming and locking the door after her.
"There, now I guess he can't find us!" she exclaimed.
Then to Bumper, she turned and began crooning: "You poor little rabbit! Did Toby hurt you? Don't be frightened now. I won't let him have you again. I'll buy you if it takes all my Christmas money. You're mine now!"
You can never imagine how these words soothed Bumper's ruffled feelings. It was like being rescued from a terrible giant who intended to dash out your brains and eat you for supper. Bumper's heart began to beat slower and slower until pretty soon it wasn't going any faster than the ticking of the clock outside in the hallway.
They sat there in the dark room for a long time, the girl rubbing Bumper's head and back and crooning gently to him. Then a noise outside--the sound of approaching footsteps--alarmed the white rabbit again.
"Edith!" a voice called. "Edith, are you up here?"
It was Mary, her cousin, calling, and the red-haired girl gently pushed open the door, and whispered.
"I'm in here, cousin Mary. Where's Toby?"
"He's looking for you. I think you'd better get out of the house before he finds you. Take Bumper with you, and we'll buy him something else to keep him quiet."
"Then I can keep him?--call him really and truly mine?"
"Yes, if you can get away with him. Toby isn't old enough yet for pets."
"He's old enough," sniffed Edith, "but he's been spoilt, and don't know how to treat them. If he ever lays hands on my rabbit again, I'll box his ears so hard he'll never forget it. That's what I'll do!"
Mary seemed to concur in this, for she smiled, and rubbed Bumper's head before adding. "He'd raise an awful howl, I suppose, if he knew you were here. You'd better go home now. You can get through