Mrs. Peter Rabbit

MISTAH MOCKER PLAYS A JOKE ON MRS. PETER

 This little point remember, please—­
 There’s little gained by those who tease. 
                              Peter Rabbit.

Mistah Mocker the Mockingbird had been very late in coming up to the Green Meadows from way down South.  The truth is, he had almost decided not to come.  You see, he loves the sunny south-land so much, and all who live there love him so much, that if it hadn’t been for Unc’ Billy Possum and Ol’ Mistah Buzzard he never, never would have thought of leaving, even for a little while.  Unc’ Billy and Ol’ Mistah Buzzard are particular friends of his, very particular friends, and he felt that he just had to come up for a little visit.

Now Mistah Mocker reached the Green Meadows just after Peter Rabbit had brought little Mrs. Peter down from the Old Pasture to live with him in the dear Old Briar-patch.  He knew that little Mrs. Peter didn’t know anything about him, for he never had visited the Old Pasture where she had spent her life.  But he knew all the bird people who do live there, for he had met them in the sunny southland, where they spent the winter,

“I believe I’ll go pay my respects to Mrs. Peter,” said Mistah Mocker one day, winking at Ol’ Mistah Buzzard.  Ol’ Mistah Buzzard chuckled and winked back.

“Ah cert’nly hopes yo’all will behave yo’self right proper and not forget that yo’ is a member of one of the oldest families in the Souf,” said he.

Mistah Mocker looked quite solemn as he promised to behave himself, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as he flew toward the Old Briar-patch.  There he hid in a thick tangle of vines.  Now it happened that Peter Rabbit had gone over to the sweet-clover patch, and little Mrs. Peter was quite alone.  Somehow she got to thinking of her old home, and for the first time she began to feel just a wee, wee bit homesick.  It was just then that she heard a familiar voice.  Little Mrs. Peter pricked up her ears and smiled happily.

“That’s the voice of Tommy Tit the Chickadee, and it must be that his wife is with him, for I hear him calling ‘Phoebe!  Phoebe!’ How lovely of them to come down to see me so soon.”

Just then she heard another voice, a deep, beautiful, ringing voice, a voice that she loved.  It was the voice of Veery the Thrush.  “Oh!” cried little Mrs. Peter, and then held her breath so as not to miss one note of the beautiful song.  Hardly had the song ended when she heard the familiar voice of Redeye the Vireo.  Little Mrs. Peter clapped her hands happily.  “It must be a surprise party by my old friends and neighbors of the Old Pasture!” she cried.  “How good of them to come way down here, and how glad I shall be to see them!”

With that little Mrs. Peter hurried over to the tangle of vines from which all the voices seemed to come and eagerly peered this way and that way for a sight of her friends.  But all she saw was a stranger wearing a very sober-colored suit.  He was very polite and told her that he was an old friend of Peter Rabbit.

“If you are a friend of Peter, then you are a friend of mine.” said little Mrs. Peter very prettily.  “Have you seen anybody in this tangle of vines since you arrived?  I am sure some friends of mine are here, but I haven’t been able to find them.”

“No,” said the stranger, who was, of course, Mistah Mocker the Mockingbird.  “I haven’t seen any one here, and I don’t think there has been any one here but myself.”

“Oh, yes, indeed there has!” cried little Mrs. Peter.  “I heard their voices, and I couldn’t possibly be mistaken in those, especially the beautiful voice of Veery the Thrush, I—­I would like very much to find them.”

Mistah Mocker had the grace to look ashamed of himself when saw how disappointed little Mrs. Peter was.  Very softly he began to sing the song of Veery the Thrush.

Little Mrs. Peter looked up quickly.  “There it is!” she cried.  “There”—­ she stopped with her mouth gaping wide open.  She suddenly realized that it was Mistah Mocker who was singing.

“I—­I’m very sorry,” he stammered.  “I did it just for a joke and not to make you feel bad.  Will you forgive me?”

“Yes,” replied little Mrs. Peter, “if you will come here often at shadow-time and sing to me.”  And Mistah Mocker promised that he would.