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THE TALE OF



PETER RABBIT



BY



BEATRIX POTTER



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FREDERICK WARNE









FREDERICK WARNE



First published 1902



Frederick Warne & Co., 1902



Printed and bound in Great Britain by William Clowes Limited, Beccles

and London









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Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names

were--



          Flopsy,

       Mopsy,

   Cotton-tail,

and Peter.



They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a

very big fir-tree.



'Now my dears,' said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, 'you may go into

the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden:

your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs.

McGregor.'



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'Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out.'



Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through

the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five

currant buns.



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Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went

down the lane to gather blackberries:



But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's

garden, and squeezed under the gate!



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First he ate some lettuces and some French beans; and then he ate

some radishes;



And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.



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But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr.

McGregor!



Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages,

but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out,

'Stop thief!'



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Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden,

for he had forgotten the way back to the gate.



He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe

amongst the potatoes.



After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I

think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately

run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his

jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.



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Peter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were

overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great

excitement, and implored him to exert himself.



Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the

top of Peter; but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket

behind him.



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And rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It would have

been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.



Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the

tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He began to turn

them over carefully, looking under each.



Presently Peter sneezed--'Kertyschoo!' Mr. McGregor was after him in

no time.



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And tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window,

upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and

he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.



Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with

fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was

very damp with sitting in that can.



After a time he began to wander about, going lippity--lippity--not

very fast, and looking all round.



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He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room

for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.



An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying

peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to

the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not

answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.



Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he

became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr.

McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some

gold-fish, she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her

tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away

without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin,

little Benjamin Bunny.



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He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him,

he heard the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch.

Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing

happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over.

The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was

turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!



Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow; and started running

as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some

black-currant bushes.



Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not

care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood

outside the garden.



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Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow

to frighten the blackbirds.



Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to

the big fir-tree.



He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the

floor of the rabbit-hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy

cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the

second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a

fortnight!



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I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.



His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a

dose of it to Peter!



'One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.'



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But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and

blackberries for supper.



THE END