Little miss Fuzzytail WHISPERS “Yes”
Love is a beautiful, wonderful thing.
There’s nothing quite like
it on all the
green earth.
’Tis love in the heart teaches birdies
to sing,
And gives the wide world all its
joy and
its mirth.
Peter
Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit was finding this out.
Always he had been happy, for happiness had been born
in him. But the happiness he had known before
was nothing to the happiness that was his when he found
that he loved little Miss Fuzzytail and that little
Miss Fuzzytail loved him, Peter was sure that she
did love him, although she wouldn’t say so.
But love doesn’t need words, and Peter had seen
it shining in the two soft, gentle eyes of little
Miss Fuzzytail. So Peter was happy in spite of
the trouble that Old led Thumper, the big, gray Rabbit
who was the father of little Miss Fuzzytail, had made
for him in the Old Pasture,
He had tried very hard, very hard
indeed, to get little Miss Fuzzytail to go back with
him to the dear Old Briar-patch on the Green Meadows,
but in spite of all he could say she couldn’t
make up her mind to leave the Old Pasture, which,
you know, had been her home ever since she was born.
And Peter couldn’t make up his mind to go back
there and leave her, because—why, because
he loved her so much that he felt that he could never,
never be happy without her. Then, when Old Jed
Thumper was hunting Peter so hard that he hardly had
a chance to eat or sleep, had come Old Man Coyote
the Wolf and given Old Jed Thumper such a fright that
for a week he didn’t dare poke so much as his
nose out of his bull-briar castle.
Now, although Old Man Coyote didn’t
know it, his terrible voice had frightened little
Miss Fuzzytail almost as much as it had Old Jed Thumper.
You see, she never had heard it before, She didn’t
even know what it was, and all that night she had
crouched in her most secret hiding-place, shivering
and shaking with fright. The next morning Peter
had found her there. She hadn’t slept a
wink, and she was still too frightened to even go
look for her breakfast.
“Oh, Peter Rabbit, did you hear
that terrible noise last night?” she cried.
“What noise?” asked Peter,
just as if he didn’t know anything about it.
“Why, that terrible voice!”
cried little Miss Fuzzytail, and shivered at the thought
of it.
“What was it like?” asked Peter.
“Oh, I can’t tell you,”
said little Miss Fuzzy tall, “It wasn’t
like anything I ever had heard before. It was
something like the voice of Hooty the Owl and the
voice of Dippy the Loon and the voice of a little
yelping dog all in one, and it was just terrible!”
“Oh?” replied Peter, “you
must mean the voice of my friend. Old Man Coyote.
He came up here last night just to do me a good turn
because I once did him a good turn.”
Then he told all about how Old Man
Coyote had come to the Green Meadows to live, and
how he was smarter than even old Granny Fox, but he
didn’t tell her how he himself had once been
frightened almost out of a year’s growth by
that terrible voice, or that it was because he hadn’t
really believed that Old Man Coyote was his friend
that had led him to leave the Old Briar-patch and
come up to the Old Pasture.
“Is—is he fond of Rabbits?”
asked little Miss Fuzzytail.
Peter was quite sure that he was.
“And do you think he’ll come up here hunting
again?” she asked.
Peter didn’t know, but he suspected that he
would.
“Oh, dear,” wailed little
Miss Fuzzytail. “Now, I never, never will
feel safe again!”
Then Peter had a happy thought.
“I tell you what,” said he, “the
safest place in the world for you and me is my dear
Old Briar-patch, Won’t you go there now?”
Little Miss Fuzzytail sighed and dropped
a tear or two. Then she nestled up close to Peter.
“Yes,” she whispered.