THE TALE OF
PETER RABBIT
BY
BEATRIX POTTER
FREDERICK WARNE
FREDERICK WARNE
First published 1902
Frederick Warne & Co., 1902
Printed and bound in Great Britain by William Clowes Limited, Beccles and London
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 round.
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.
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.
THE END