Chapter 2

"Two dollars!" repeated the lady, fumbling in her dress with one hand. Then, to Bumper's surprise and delight, she added: "I think I'll take him. I want him for my nephew. Toby's hard to suit, but I think he'll be pleased with a rabbit. What did you say you called him?"

"Bumper, ma'm!"

"That's a queer name, but I like it."

"It was because he was always bumping his nose when he was a tiny mite," the old woman explained, taking the two dollars from the lady. "His mother named him first, and then his brothers and sisters took it up, and, of course, I had to follow 'em. Rabbits don't like to be called by two different names, and if I was you, ma'm, I'd keep on calling him Bumper. He wouldn't know any other name."

"I will always call him Bumper, but"--sighing--"I'm afraid Toby will want to nickname him. He makes up the funniest names for all his pets."

"Tell him then Bumper will run away and never come back. Rabbits are more knowing than you think, ma'm."

"I always thought they were very cute and gentle, but very stupid," replied the lady. "But maybe I was wrong. Bumper doesn't look stupid."

"Lordy, ma'm! he ain't no more stupid than that Toby you speak of, whoever he may be."

"Well, Toby isn't stupid, whatever else you may say of him," smiled the lady. "He's bright enough, but he's sometimes very thoughtless, and I fear a little cruel."

"Cruel, ma'm!" And the old woman who sold rabbits for a living stiffened her bent form, and frowned. She stretched forth a hand as if to reclaim her Bumper, but the lady moved away with her purchase under her arm.

"Oh, I'll see that he isn't cruel to Bumper," she said.

While listening to all this conversation, Bumper experienced strange and unusual emotions. He had learned more about white rabbits in a few moments than his mother had ever taught him in all the days of his youth. They were considered stupid, were they?--but cute and gentle. Huh! He wasn't stupid! No, indeed! If the lady thought so he'd show her what a mistake she'd made.

Just to prove it, Bumper began to gnaw at the lining of the muff, and pretty soon got his whole body under it, and then he began to kick and wriggle to get out. He felt he was being smothered alive, and he squealed aloud. The lady finally rescued him, but not until she had torn away half the lining from her muff.

"Oh, you stupid little Bumper!" she said, reprovingly. "You mustn't do such things!"

Bumper felt so crestfallen at this rebuke that he remained perfectly quiet during the rest of the walk. He snuggled up into the crook of her arm, and peeped out once only when they reached a big house and began ascending the steps.

So this was to be his future home! What a big place it was! Why, hundreds and hundreds of white rabbits could live in that house and never lack for elbow room.

Just then, when Bumper began to feel a little proud about his future home, a great noise and clatter behind the door startled him, and it opened so suddenly that he nearly popped out of the lady's arms. And what happened to him behind that door of the big house might fill chapters and chapters, but it will all be told in the next story.

STORY IV

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DREADFUL HOUSE

When the door of the house flew open with a bang, the lady holding Bumper put one hand to her heart, and exclaimed:

"Oh, dear, what has happened now!"

Bumper couldn't see any one in the dark, but evidently the lady could, for a cool, quiet voice spoke to her.

"Toby threw his playthings down the stairs, and he's riding the banisters with a tin pan for a hat. I suppose you heard the clatter of the pan as it fell off."

"It sounded to me as if the house was falling down, Mary! I do wish Toby would behave."

The one addressed as Mary laughed. She seemed like a pleasant, wholesome young woman, with pink cheeks and smiling gray eyes. "I've told him to behave a dozen times, but he won't mind. He's been cutting up all the morning. But what have you there in your arms, Aunt Helen?"

"Guess, Mary. It's for Toby's birthday."

"Some kind of a toy, I suppose--or maybe a book."

"A book for Toby! What an idea! He'd throw it in the fire unless he liked the pictures. No, it's something prettier and better than a book."

She opened her arms, and held Bumper forward so Mary could see him, long, white ears and blinking eyes and all.

"Oh! A dear little rabbit!"

Before Bumper could protest or stop his heart from beating like a trip-hammer, Mary seized him in both hands, and began gently stroking his head.

"What a sweet little thing!" she murmured. "And so tame and friendly!"

Bumper was rubbing his wet nose against her velvety hands and thinking how soft and pleasant they were to the touch.

"Yes, he's so tame he never once tried to jump out of my hands," replied Aunt Helen. "I'm almost afraid to let Toby have him now that I've brought him home. Do you think he'll be rough with him?"

Mary's face turned very grave and serious. "He's pretty young to have a rabbit, Aunt Helen. If he should drop him--or--or--Well, we must teach him to be very careful."

"Yes, I will speak to him myself."

You can imagine the state of Bumper's feelings by this time. Toby was undoubtedly a cruel boy--Aunt Helen had said as much, and Mary had confirmed it--and they were both afraid he was too young to own a pet rabbit. What if he should drop him to the hard floor! Bumper peeked over Mary's hands and looked below. The floor seemed a long distance away. If he should fall it would very likely break a leg or his neck. Oh, why had he been bought for a cruel boy's birthday present.

Bumper wanted to run and hide. If it hadn't been for the fear of falling to the hard floor, he would have jumped out of Mary's hands and scampered away. But he had no chance to do this. There was another loud racketty-rack-clumpity-bang! First a big tin dish pan rolled all the way down the stairs into the hall; then a set of building-blocks, a wooden hobby horse, a lot of animals from a Noah's ark, tin soldiers, a drum, and a train of cars. Toby came last, sliding down the banisters, and shouting in glee as he landed at the bottom.

"It was a landslide, Auntie!" he shouted. "We all slid down the mountain together."

"Toby, how many times have I told you not to do that!" reproved Mary, while Aunt Helen turned pale and stood stock still.

Toby paid no attention to the rebuke. He was a small, freckle-faced boy. In one hand he held a whip, and in the other the broken head of a wooden horse. He picked himself up, and began slashing his toys with the whip. Bumper gave him one terrified glance, and made a desperate dive for Mary's open waist. But Toby had sharp, bright eyes.

"What you got, Mary?" he shouted, running toward her, whip in hand. "Oh, a rabbit! Yes, it is! You needn't hide him! I see him! It's a rabbit! Let me have him!"

"Be careful, Toby, you'll tear my dress."

"Let me have him! He's mine."

"No, no, Toby, don't touch him. Wait! I'll show him to you!"

But Toby was much too spry for Mary or Aunt Helen. He darted around back of them, and caught Bumper by the tail--and you know a rabbit's tail is the smallest part of him--and began pulling it. Bumper let out a squeal, and pulled the other way with all his might.

"I got him!" shrieked Toby gleefully. "I got him by the tail."

"Toby! Toby!" cried Mary, catching his hand. "Let go of him this instant."

"I won't! I won't! He's mine!"

Between Toby pulling at one end, and Mary holding the other, Bumper felt as if he would part somewhere in the middle. He kicked with his hind legs, and scratched Toby's hands, but the boy would not release his hold. He gave a sharp jerk, and Bumper let out a squeal.

"You cruel, wicked boy!" exclaimed Mary, as Toby pulled the rabbit from her arms, and swung him around by his hind legs. "Let me have him this minute. You'll kill him!"

"No, I won't! He's mine! Isn't he, Aunt Helen? You brought him to me, didn't you? There now, Mary, she nodded her head! I'm going to keep him."

"But, dear, you must be very gentle with him," said Aunt Helen. "You'll hurt him carrying him that way."

"That's the way to carry rabbits, by their hind legs," replied Toby. "I saw them in the market the other day--a whole bunch of them--hanging by their hind legs."

"But they were dead rabbits, Toby, and not live, white ones. Now let me show you how to hold him."

But Toby was more interested in the experiment of making Bumper squeal than in listening to his aunt's instructions. It was better than the squeaking camel he had or the girl's doll that said mamma every time you squeezed it. All he had to do was to squeeze the legs or swing the rabbit around to make him squeal. Each time he laughed and shouted with joy.

Mary could stand this cruel torture no longer. She made a dive for Bumper, and caught him by the fore paws. In the struggle that followed Bumper was likely to be pulled apart. What might have happened no one could tell if the door had not suddenly opened, and a young girl, with red hair and freckles on her nose, entered. She was humming some tune to herself or to the doll she carried in her hands; but she stopped singing, and stared at Toby and Mary pulling at the white rabbit.

Then she dropped her doll, and sprang forward to Bumper's rescue. "Oh, that's my rabbit, cousin Mary!" she cried. "It's the one I wanted to buy from the old woman, but I didn't have the money. Let go of him, Toby! You're hurting him!"

"I won't! He's mine!" came the reply. "You let go of him!"

"He's not! He's mine!"

"He ain't! He's mine!"

"Stop that!" cried the girl, when Toby squeezed the legs so hard Bumper whimpered with pain.

"I won't! I'll squeeze him all I want to."

To make good his word he gave the rabbit a harder squeeze. Then something happened that surprised every one. The girl raised a hand, and boxed Toby's ears so hard that it made him howl.

"Now, take that, and see how it feels to be hurt!"

Toby clapped both hands to his ears, and in a flash the red-headed girl seized Bumper in her arms and ran pell-mell from the room. Toby started after her, but when the door slammed in his face he flopped down on the floor to howl and kick just like a baby who had eaten pickles instead of good milk for breakfast.

STORY V

BUMPER AND THE RED-HEADED GIRL

The red-headed girl, with the freckles on her nose, and a dimple in her chin, didn't stop until she was on the top floor of the big house where Toby's howls couldn't be heard. She opened the door of a dark room, and went in, slamming and locking the door after her.

"There, now I guess he can't find us!" she exclaimed.

Then to Bumper, she turned and began crooning: "You poor little rabbit! Did Toby hurt you? Don't be frightened now. I won't let him have you again. I'll buy you if it takes all my Christmas money. You're mine now!"

You can never imagine how these words soothed Bumper's ruffled feelings. It was like being rescued from a terrible giant who intended to dash out your brains and eat you for supper. Bumper's heart began to beat slower and slower until pretty soon it wasn't going any faster than the ticking of the clock outside in the hallway.

They sat there in the dark room for a long time, the girl rubbing Bumper's head and back and crooning gently to him. Then a noise outside--the sound of approaching footsteps--alarmed the white rabbit again.

"Edith!" a voice called. "Edith, are you up here?"

It was Mary, her cousin, calling, and the red-haired girl gently pushed open the door, and whispered.

"I'm in here, cousin Mary. Where's Toby?"

"He's looking for you. I think you'd better get out of the house before he finds you. Take Bumper with you, and we'll buy him something else to keep him quiet."

"Then I can keep him?--call him really and truly mine?"

"Yes, if you can get away with him. Toby isn't old enough yet for pets."

"He's old enough," sniffed Edith, "but he's been spoilt, and don't know how to treat them. If he ever lays hands on my rabbit again, I'll box his ears so hard he'll never forget it. That's what I'll do!"

Mary seemed to concur in this, for she smiled, and rubbed Bumper's head before adding. "He'd raise an awful howl, I suppose, if he knew you were here. You'd better go home now. You can get through the backyard without Toby seeing you."

"Let him see me if he likes," retorted Edith, shaking her red curls and tilting her freckled nose upward. "I won't let him have the rabbit. Aunt Helen ought to spank him. That's what he deserves."

Mary walked ahead down the stairs to see if Toby was around, and then when they reached the kitchen Edith climbed through an open window into the backyard. There was a thick hedge around the yard, and back of that another yard which smelt so sweet with flowers and green lawn that Bumper raised his head and sniffed.

My, what a whiff that was! There was a vegetable garden hidden back of the rose bushes, filled with crisp lettuce, golden carrots, emerald-green cabbages, blood-red beets, blanching celery, peas, beans, corn, potatoes, and green grass everywhere. It was a whiff from Rabbit Arcady, and Bumper forgot all the dangers he had been through.

"No, no, you mustn't jump out of my arms!" warned Edith when he struggled to get down and roll around in the green grass. "Toby might be looking."

There was an opening in the thick hedge, and through this the red-haired girl crawled into the second garden. If anything, this was a more wonderful garden than the first. The odors were intoxicating. There were flowers and birds and trees as well as succulent vegetables. A most wonderful elm tree spread out like an umbrella and shaded the whole lawn. Beneath this the girl stopped a moment, and let Bumper nibble at the green grass.

For a city rabbit who had never seen green grass growing, and had only tasted of vegetables several days or a week old, this visit to the garden was like a foretaste of what all rabbits must consider heaven. Nothing Bumper had ever eaten tasted quite so good as that grass, and when the girl picked a fresh, crisp carrot from the garden he couldn't believe it was anything but a magic carrot. It was so sweet and juicy that it made his mouth water.

"Now you must come in the house," Edith said after he had eaten so much that he was in danger of exploding like an over ripe tomato. "I'm going to keep you right in my bedroom to-night. Then daddy will make a house for you in the morning."

Bumper spent the night in a box lined with fresh, green grass at the foot of the little girl's bed, but not until after he had met another person whom he feared and disliked almost as much as the bad boy called Toby. She was a cross old nurse, who looked after Edith, and she didn't like rabbits--not live ones. She admired Bumper's soft, white hair, and remarked:

"Wouldn't it make a handsome fur neck scarf? I wonder how much it would cost."

Edith snatched the rabbit from her hands. "You wicked old thing!" she exclaimed. "I believe you'd kill Bumper just for his fur."

"What a funny little girl you are," the nurse laughed. "What are rabbits for if you can't use their skins for furs."

With that Edith clapped Bumper in the box, and sat on the lid. "I'm going to sit there until you go," she said.

The nurse laughed, and when she finally left the room the red-haired girl jumped up and locked the door. Then she patted Bumper again before slipping in bed for the night.

It was early morning before the rabbit heard another word from her. The moon peeking in through the window made Bumper feel quite at home, and with it came the sweet aroma of that garden, intoxicating smells of roses, green grass and succulent vegetables.

"Are you there, little Bumper?" the girl called just as the sun rose. She was in her thin nightie, with her wonderful braids of red hair streaming down her back. Bumper thumped on the box with both hind feet to express his delight at seeing her again.

"Now you're coming to bed with me," she added. And sure enough, she lifted the white rabbit from the box and carried him to her bed. It was soft and warm under the sheets, and Bumper began playing hide-and-seek with her toes, making her shout and giggle every time his whiskers rubbed against one. It must have been the noise they made that attracted the nurse, for she suddenly knocked on the door and tried to open it.

Edith sprang out of bed, and put the rabbit in his box before she opened the door. "Why was that door locked?" asked the nurse severely.

"Because," replied Edith saucily, "I didn't want you snooping in here in the night to steal bunny."

"Well, of all things! If you ever do that again, I'll tell your mother! Suppose the house took fire with you locked in here."

"I'd know enough to unlock the door, wouldn't I?" retorted the girl.

The nurse went to the bed and threw back the sheets to air them. Then, in angry amazement, she exclaimed: "You've had that dirty beast in the bed! Now don't tell me a story."

"Yes, Nursy, and we had a beautiful time playing hide-and-seek under the bedclothes."

The nurse stared hard at Edith, and then shook her head. "You're a naughty girl, and I'll give the rabbit to Carlo. See if I don't?"

This didn't frighten the girl a bit, and she laughed in the nurse's face; but it gave Bumper such a shock that he missed three heart beats and one of his whiskers, for he knew Carlo was the dog he had heard barking all night long.

STORY VI

BUMPER AND CARLO

The little white rabbit found a home already waiting for him in the prettiest corner of the garden, but before that the red-haired girl harnessed him to a ribbon, and let him eat grass and vegetables to his heart's content wherever he took a fancy to go. Edith lost her appetite apparently in watching her pet eat, for she wouldn't go into breakfast even after the nurse had called her several times; but finally, when her mother came out, and took her by the hand, she obeyed.

"Can't I take the rabbit in with me?" she asked.

"No, dear, put him in the pen over there. He'll be quite content alone."

So Bumper found himself alone in the garden, or rather in a pen shut off from the rest of the garden by stout chicken wire. There was a box in back of the pen, filled with soft grass and straw, and a tin pan filled with fresh water. There was such a variety of things to eat that he kept nibbling first a carrot, then a cabbage, then a blade of grass, then some corn, then a piece of bread, then some crackers, then a red beet, then a spear of grass again, and so on through all the long list of good things.

It was such a mixture that he was never sure just what he had in his mouth. It was just as if a boy or girl had crammed the mouth full of gum drops, chocolates, fudge, lollypops, taffy, peppermint, lemon and wintergreen drops, and a few pieces of fruit cake by way of change. How could he or she tell just what the teeth were munching on?

Bumper tasted them all, and thought that each one was sweeter and better than the other; but when he got around to the end of his circle he had to begin all over again to see if they didn't all taste better the second time. My, it was a feast that made his eyes open and his stomach swell like a toad's trying to swallow a gnat.

Edith came out so soon that Bumper knew right away that she hadn't eaten much breakfast, and half of it was in her hands, and apparently the other half was on her face instead of being in her stomach where it should have been.

"Do you like bread and jam?" she asked, poking the bread she had been eating at Bumper.

Like a well-bred rabbit, Bumper stuck his nose up and sniffed at the dainty proffered him; but when he got some of the jam on his nose he hopped away and sneezed. It was gooseberry jam, and Bumper hated gooseberries, although he had never tasted of them before.

"Oh, you funny bunnie!" exclaimed the girl. "Why don't you like jam?"

Then she caught a reflection of her face smeared with jam in the pan of water, and she laughed happily. "I don't wonder you don't like it on your face, Bumper," she said. "It does look awful, doesn't it? My, I must have nearly a quart on my face."

Then she began cleaning her lips and chin, using Bumper's pan of water for a wash basin. Bumper didn't object to this, but he did hope she'd remember to change it, and give him clean water to drink. Even gooseberry-jam-water wasn't to his liking.

Early in the morning Edith was carried away by the nurse for her lessons, and then her music teacher appeared, and Bumper could hear her fine, small voice singing in accompaniment to the piano. After that she came into the garden again to play with him.

But she was soon called away to lunch, and then she had to go walking with her mother, and it was nearly sundown when she returned. Her first thought was of the rabbit, and she came running pell-mell across the garden to greet him.

"Have you missed me, Bumper?" she asked, squatting down on the grass in her new white dress. "I've been awfully lonely without you. I do hate music lessons and visiting. I wish I could stay here all the time with you, and maybe eat grass and green things, and grow fat and white like you. I wonder how it feels to be a rabbit. Yes, I believe next to being a little girl, I'd rather be a rabbit than anything else. Rabbits don't have to work or study or sing or do anything. Goodness! what an easy time you have of it."

Bumper thought so, too, and he began to swell up with pride. He was a very young rabbit, and he was easily flattered. He wanted to tell her that he would rather be a white rabbit than a girl with red hair, when the nurse called Edith to dinner, and she had to leave him.

It was a beautiful moonlight night, and Bumper wasn't a bit sleepy. What rabbit could be in such a wonderful garden with the moon shining down upon it. Bumper danced around in his small pen, and sat upon his hind legs as if praying to the moon; but in reality he was trying to see how high the wire fence was, and wondering if he could jump over it. He had tried all day to nibble through it, and dig under it, but the wire had only hurt his teeth without giving way a particle. If he was going to get out so he could run around the garden, he would have to do it by jumping clear over the wire fence.

He tried it once, and fell short by several inches. He got a hard jolt in doing it, and rubbed his head where it hit the earth. But the next time he nearly reached the top.

"I can do it with a few more trials," he said, happy at the thought of his freedom. "I'll surprise the little girl when she hunts for me in the morning."

He hopped back a few feet, and then took a flying leap, and landed plump on the top of the fence. The wire caught him in the middle of the stomach, and there he hung for a moment undecided which way to fall. But he kicked with his hind feet, and that seemed to upset his balance, for he plunged headfirst down, and landed on the other side in a wild somersault.

"Well, that wasn't exactly graceful," he said, "but I'm here, and that's where I wanted to be. Now I'll explore the garden by moonlight."

First he ran to the vegetable garden, and nibbled at whatever he could find; but he was really so full he couldn't eat much more. Then he frisked around on the lawn, playing with his tail, and trying to jump as high up in the air as he could. It was great fun, and Bumper panted with joy.

Then suddenly out of the dark shadows of the garden something large, fierce and frightfully noisy came bounding toward him. Bumper stood stock still until a deep baying sound told him that it was Carlo, the big dog, whose barking under the bedroom window had disturbed his sleep the night before.