The Tale of Peter Rabbit icon

The Tale of Peter Rabbit



НазваниеThe Tale of Peter Rabbit
Дата конвертации12.10.2012
Размер20.5 Kb.
ТипДокументы

The Tale of Peter Rabbit


by Beatrix Potter


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.”

“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.


Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail,

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!

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.

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!”

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.

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.

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

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 around.

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 goldfish;

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.


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.

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!


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.”

But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail

had bread and milk and blackberries,

for supper.




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