The Burgess Animal Book for Children | Page 3

"but this very morning he so nearly caught me that it is
a wonder that my hair is not snow white from fright." Then he told
Jenny all about his narrow escape. "Had it not been for that handy hole
of Grandfather Chuck, I couldn't possibly have escaped," concluded
Peter.
Jenny Wren cocked her pert little head on one side, and her sharp little
eyes snapped. "Why don't you learn to swim, Peter, like your cousin
down in the Sunny South?" she demanded. "If he had been in your
place, he would simply have plunged into the Smiling Pool and laughed
at Reddy Fox."
Peter sat bolt upright with his eyes very wide open. In them was a
funny look of surprise as he stared up at Jenny Wren. "What are you
talking about, Jenny Wren?" he demanded. "Don't you know that none
of the Rabbit family swim unless it is to cross the Laughing Brook
when there is no other way of getting to the other side, or when actually
driven into the water by an enemy from whom there is no other escape?
I can swim a little if I have to, but you don't catch me in the water when
I can stay on land. What is more, you won't find any other members of
my family doing such a thing."
"Tut, tut, tut, tut, Peter!" exclaimed Jenny Wren in her sharp, scolding

voice. "Tut, tut, tut, tut! For a fellow who has been so curious about the
ways of his feathered neighbors, you know very little about your own
family. If I were in your place I would learn about my own relatives
before I became curious about my neighbors. How many relatives have
you, Peter?"
"One," replied Peter promptly, "my big cousin, Jumper the Hare."
Jenny Wren threw back her head and laughed and laughed and laughed.
It was a most irritating and provoking laugh. Finally Peter began to lose
patience. "What are you laughing at?" he demanded crossly. "You
know very well that Jumper the Hare is the only cousin I have."
Jenny Wren laughed harder that ever.
"Peter!" she gasped. "Peter, you will be the death of me. Why, down in
the Sunny South, where I spent the winter, you have a cousin who is
more closely related to you than Jumper the Hare. And what is more, he
is almost as fond of the water as Jerry Muskrat. He was called the
Marsh Rabbit or Marsh Hare, and many a time I have watched him
swimming about by the hour."
"I don't believe it!" declared Peter angrily. "I don't believe a word of it.
You are simply trying to fool me, Jenny Wren. There never was a
Rabbit and there never will be a Rabbit who would go swimming for
the fun of it. I belong to the Cottontail branch of the Hare family, and it
is a fine family if I do say so. My cousin Jumper is a true Hare, and the
only difference between us is that he is bigger, has longer legs and ears,
changes the color of his coat in winter, and seldom, if ever, goes into
holes in the ground. The idea of trying to tell me I don't know about my
own relatives."
Jenny Wren suddenly became sober. "Peter," said she very earnestly,
"take my advice and go to school to Old Mother Nature for awhile.
What I have told you is true, every word of it. You have a cousin down
in the Sunny South who spends half his time in the water. What is more,
I suspect that you and Jumper have other relatives of whom you've
never heard. Such ignorance would be laughable if it were not to be

pitied. This is what comes of never having traveled. Go to school to
Old Mother Nature for a while, Peter. It will pay you." With this, Jenny
Wren flew away to hunt for Mr. Wren that they might decide where to
make their home for the summer.
Peter tried to believe that what Jenny Wren had told him was nothing
but a story, but do what he would, he couldn't rid himself of a little
doubt. He tried to interest himself in the affairs of the other little people
of Old Orchard, but it was useless. That little doubt kept growing and
growing. Could it be possible that Jenny Wren had spoken the truth?
Could it be that he really didn't know what relatives he had or anything
about them? Of course Old Mother Nature could tell him all he wanted
to know. And he knew that whatever she might tell him would be true.
Finally that growing doubt, together with the curiosity which has led
poor Peter to do so many queer things, proved