Mrs Peter Rabbit | Page 6

claws of Hooty the Owl. At last jolly, round, red Mr. Sun began to
climb up in the blue, blue sky, just as he does every day. Peter looked
up at him, and he felt sure that Mr. Sun winked at him. Somehow it
made him feel better. The fact is, Peter was beginning to feel just a wee,
wee bit homesick. It is bad enough to be in a strange place alone, but to
be sore and to smart and ache as Peter did makes that lonesome feeling
a whole lot harder to bear. It is dreadful not to have any one to speak to,
but to look around and not see a single thing you have ever seen
before,--my, my, my, it certainly does give you a strange, sinking
feeling way down inside!
Before that long night was over Peter felt as if his heart had gone way
down to his very toes. Yes, Sir, that's the way he felt. Every time he
moved at all he cried "Ouch!" He just knew that he was growing more
stiff and sore every minute. Then he began to wonder what he should
do for something to eat, for he was in a strange place, you remember.
And that made him think of all his private little paths through the dear
Old Briar-patch, the little paths he had made all himself, and which no
one used but himself, excepting Danny Meadow Mouse when he came
for a visit.
"Perhaps I shall never, never see them again," moaned Peter, and two

big tears filled his eyes and were just ready to drop.
At that moment he looked up and saw jolly, round, red Mr. Sun wink.
Peter tried to wink back, and that made the two tears fall. But there
were no more tears to follow. You see that wink had made all the
difference in the world, Peter's heart had jumped right back where it
belonged. Mr. Sun was one of his oldest friends and you know
When trouble comes, a friendly face Makes bright the very darkest
place.
And so, just as he made bright all the Old Pasture, Mr. Sun also made
bright the dark little corners in Peter's heart just because he was an old
friend. To be sure Peter was still lonesome, but it was a different kind
of lonesomeness. He hadn't anybody to talk to, which is always a
dreadful thing to Peter, but he had only to look up to catch a friendly
wink, and somehow that not only made him feel better inside but it
seemed to make his aches and smarts better too.
CHAPTER VII
PETER FINDS TRACKS
Every day is different from every other day, And always there is
something new to see along the way. Peter Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit had sat still just as long as he could. He was stiff and lame
and sore from the wounds made by Hooty the Owl, but his curiosity
wouldn't let him sit still a minute longer. He just HAD to explore the
Old Pasture. So with many a wry face and many an "Ouch" he limped
out from the shelter of the friendly old bramble-bush and started out to
see what the Old Pasture was like.
Now Hooty the Owl had taught Peter wisdom. With his torn clothes
and his aches and smarts he couldn't very well forget to be careful. First
he made sure that there was no danger near, and this time he took pains
to look all around in the sky as well as on the ground. Then he limped
out to the very patch of sweet clover where Hooty had so nearly caught

him the night before.
"A good breakfast," said Peter, "will make a new Rabbit of me." You
know Peter thinks a great deal of his stomach. So he began to eat as fast
as he could, stopping every other mouthful to look and listen. "I know
it's a bad habit to eat fast," said he, "but it's a whole lot worse to have
an empty stomach." So he ate and ate and ate as fast as he could make
his little jaws go, which is very fast indeed.
When Peter's stomach was stuffed full he gave a great sigh of relief and
limped back to the friendly old bramble-bush to rest. But he couldn't sit
still long, for he just had to find out all about the Old Pasture. So pretty
soon he started out to explore. Such a wonderful place as it seemed to
Peter! There were clumps of bushes with little open spaces between,
just the nicest kind of playgrounds. Then there were funny spreading,
prickly juniper-trees, which made the very safest places to crawl out of
harm's way and to hide. Everywhere were paths made