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Nutkin became more and more impertinent —
‘Old Mr. B! Old Mr. B!
Hickamore, Hackamore,
on the King’s kitchen door;
All the King’s horses,
and all the King’s men,
Couldn’t drive Hickamore, Hackamore,
Off the King’s kitchen door.’
Nutkin danced up and down like a sunbeam; but still Old Brown said nothing at all.
Nutkin began again —
‘Arthur O’Bower has broken his band,
He comes roaring up the land!
The King of Scots with all his power,
Cannot turn Arthur of the Bower!’
Nutkin made a whirring noise to sound like the wind, and he took a running jump right onto the head of Old Brown!..
Then all at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement and a loud ‘Squeak!’
The other squirrels scuttered away into the bushes.
When they came back very cautiously, peeping round the tree – there was Old Brown sitting on his door-step, quite still, with his eyes closed, as if nothing had happened.
This looks like the end of the story; but it isn’t.
Old Brown carried Nutkin into his house, and held him up by the tail, intending to skin him; but Nutkin pulled so very hard that his tail broke in two, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped out of the attic window.
And to this day, if you meet Nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will throw sticks at you, and stamp his feet and scold, and shout —
‘Cuck-cuck-cuck-cur-r-r-cuck-k-k!’
The Tales of the Flopsy Bunnies
It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is ‘soporific.’
I have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces; but then I am not a rabbit.
They certainly had a very soporific effect upon the Flopsy Bunnies!
When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his Cousin Flopsy. They had a large family, and they were very improvident and cheerful.
I do not remember the separate names of their children; they were generally called the ‘Flopsy Bunnies.’
As there was not always quite enough to eat, – Benjamin used to borrow cabbages from Flopsy’s brother, Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden.
Sometimes Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare.
When this happened, the Flopsy Bunnies went across the field to a rubbish heap, in the ditch outside Mr. McGregor’s garden.
Mr. McGregor’s rubbish heap was a mixture. There were jam pots and paper bags, and mountains of chopped grass from the mowing machine (which always tasted oily), and some rotten vegetable marrows and an old boot or two. One day – oh joy! – there were a quantity of overgrown lettuces, which had ‘shot’ into flower.
The Flopsy Bunnies simply stuffed lettuces. By degrees, one after another, they were overcome with slumber, and lay down in the mown grass.
Benjamin was not so much overcome as his children. Before going to sleep he was sufficiently wide awake to put a paper bag over his head to keep off the flies.
The little Flopsy Bunnies slept delightfully in the warm sun. From the lawn beyond the garden came the distant clacketty sound of the mowing machine. The bluebottles buzzed about the wall, and a little old mouse picked over the rubbish among the jam pots.
(I can tell you her name, she was called Thomasina Tittlemouse, a woodmouse with a long tail.)
She rustled across the paper bag, and awakened Benjamin Bunny.
The mouse apologized profusely, and said that she knew Peter Rabbit.
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