Hardly had jolly, round, red Mr. Sun
thrown off his rosy blankets and begun his daily climb
up in the blue, blue sky when Peter Rabbit and his
cousin, Jumper the Hare, arrived at the place in the
Green Forest where Peter had found Old Mother Nature
the day before. She was waiting for them, ready
to begin the first lesson.
“I am glad you are so prompt,”
said she. “Promptness is one of the most
important things in life. Now I am very, very
busy these days, as you know, so we will begin school
at once. Before either of you ask any questions,
I am going to ask some myself. Peter, what do
you look like? Where do you live? What
do you eat? I want to find out just how much
you really know about yourself.”
Peter scratched one ear with a long
hind foot and hesitated as if he didn’t know
just how to begin. Old Mother Nature waited
patiently. Finally Peter began rather timidly.
“Of course,” said he,
“the only way I know how I look is by the way
the other members of my family look, for I’ve
never seen myself. I suppose in a way I look
like all the rest of the Rabbit family. I have
long hind legs and short front ones. I suppose
this is so I can make long jumps when I am in a hurry.”
Old Mother Nature nodded, and Peter,
taking courage, continued. “My hind legs
are stout and strong, but my front ones are rather
weak. I guess this is because I do not have a
great deal of use for them, except for running.
My coat is a sort of mixture of brown and gray, more
brown in summer and more gray in winter. My ears
are longer for my size than are those of most animals,
but really not very long after all, not nearly as
long for my size as my cousin Jumper’s are for
his size. My tail doesn’t amount to much
because it is so short that it is hardly worth calling
a tail. It is so short I carry it straight up.
It is white like a little bunch of cotton, and I suppose
that that is why I am called a Cottontail Rabbit,
though I have heard that some folks call me a Gray
Rabbit and others a Bush Rabbit. I guess I’m
called Bush Rabbit because I like bushy country in
which to live.”
“I live in the dear Old Briar-patch
and just love it. It is a mass of bushes and
bramble-tangles and is the safest place I know of.
I have cut little paths all through it just big enough
for Mrs. Peter and myself. None of our enemies
can get at us there, excepting Shadow the Weasel or
Billy Mink. I have a sort of nest there where
I spend my time when I am not running about.
It is called a form and I sit in it a great deal.”
“In summer I eat clover, grass
and other green things, and I just love to get over
into Farmer Brown’s garden. In winter I
have to take what I can get, and this is mostly bark
from young trees, buds and tender twigs of bushes,
and any green plants I can find under the snow.
I can run fast for a short distance, but only for
a short distance. That is why I like thick brush
and bramble-tangles. There I can dodge.
I don’t know any one who can beat me at dodging.
If Reddy Fox or Bowser the Hound surprises me away
from the dear Old Briar-patch I run for the nearest
hollow log or hole in the ground. Sometimes
in summer I dig a hole for myself, but not often.
It is much easier to use a hole somebody else has
dug. When I want to signal my friends I thump
the ground with my hind feet. Jumper does the
same thing. I forgot to say I don’t like
water.”
Old Mother Nature smiled. “You
are thinking of that cousin of yours, the Marsh Rabbit
who lives way down in the Sunny South,” said
she.
Peter looked a wee bit foolish and
admitted that he was. Jumper the Hare was all
interest at once. You see, he had never heard
of this cousin.
“That was a very good account
of yourself, Peter,” said Old Mother Nature.
“Now take a look at your cousin, Jumper the
Hare, and tell me how he differs from you.”
Peter took a long look at Jumper,
and then, as before, scratched one ear with a long
hind foot. “In the first place,”
said he, “Jumper is considerably bigger than
I. He has very long hind legs and his ears are very
long. In summer he wears a brown coat, but in
winter he is all white but the tips of those long ears,
and those are black. Because his coat changes
so, he is called the varying Hare. He likes
the Green Forest where the trees grow close together,
especially those places where there are a great many
young trees. He’s the biggest member of
our family. I guess that’s all I know
about Cousin Jumper.”
“That is very good, Peter, as
far as it goes,” said Old Mother Nature.
“You have made only one mistake. Jumper
is not the biggest of his family.”
Both Peter and Jumper opened their
eyes very wide with surprise. “Also,”
continued Old Mother Nature, “you forgot to mention
the fact that Jumper never hides in hollow logs and
holes in the ground as you do. Why don’t
you, Jumper?”
“I wouldn’t feel safe
there,” replied Jumper rather timidly.
“I depend on my long legs for safety, and the
way I can dodge around trees and bushes. I suppose
Reddy Fox may be fast enough to catch me in the open,
but he can’t do it where I can dodge around trees
and bushes. That is why I stick to the Green
Forest. If you please, Mother Nature, what is
this about a cousin who likes to swim?”
Old Mother Nature’s eyes twinkled.
“We’ll get to that later on,” said
she. “Now, each of you hold up a hind foot
and tell me what difference you see.”
Peter and Jumper each held up a hind
foot and each looked first at his own and then at
the other’s. “They look to me very
much alike, only Jumper’s is a lot longer and
bigger than mine,” said Peter. Jumper
nodded as if he agreed.
“What’s the matter with
your eyes?” demanded Old Mother Nature.
“Don’t you see that Jumper’s foot
is a great deal broader than yours, Peter, and that
his toes are spread apart, while yours are close together?”
Peter and Jumper looked sheepish,
for it was just as Old Mother Nature had said.
Jumper’s foot really was quite different from
that of Peter. Peter’s was narrow and slim.
“That is a very important difference,”
declared Old Mother Nature. “Can you guess
why I gave you those big feet, Jumper?”
Jumper slowly shook his head.
“Not unless it was to make me different,”
said he.
“I’m surprised,”
said Old Mother Nature. “Yes, indeed, I’m
surprised. You ought to know by this time that
I never give anybody anything without a purpose.
What happens to those big feet of yours in the winter,
Jumper?”
“Nothing that I know of, excepting
that the hair grows out long between my toes,”
Jumper replied.
“Exactly,” snapped Old
Mother Nature. “And when the hair does
this you can travel over light snow without sinking
in. It is just as if you had snowshoes.
That is why you are often called a Snowshoe Rabbit.
I gave you those big feet and make the hair grow out
every winter because I know that you depend on your
legs to get away from your enemies. You can
run over the deep snow where your enemies break through.
Peter, though he is small and lighter than you are,
cannot go where you can. But Peter doesn’t
need to depend always on his legs to save his life.
There is one thing more that I want you both to notice,
and that is that you both have quite a lot of short
hairs on the soles of you feet. That is where
you differ from that cousin of yours down in the Sunny
South. He has only a very few hairs on his feet.
That is so he can swim better.”
“If you please, Mother Nature,
why is that cousin of ours so fond of the water?”
piped up Peter.
“Because,” replied Old
Mother Nature, “he lives in marshy country where
there is a great deal of water. He is very nearly
the same size as you, Peter, and looks very much like
you. But his legs are not quite so long, his
ears are a little smaller, and his tail is brownish
instead of white. He is a poor runner and so
in time of danger he takes to the water. For
that matter, he goes swimming for pleasure.
The water is warm down there, and he dearly loves
to paddle about in it. If a Fox chases him he
simply plunges into the water and hides among the
water plants with only his eyes and his nose out of
water.”
“Does he make his home in the
water like Jerry Muskrat?” asked Peter innocently.
Mother Nature smiled and shook her
head. “Certainly not,” she replied.
“His home is on the ground. His babies
are born in a nest made just as Mrs. Peter makes her
nest for your babies, and Mrs. Jumper makes a nest
for Jumper’s babies. It is made of grass
and lined with soft fur which Mrs. Rabbit pulls from
her own breast, and it is very carefully hidden.
By the way, Peter how do your babies differ from
the babies of your Cousin Jumper?”
Peter shook his head. “I
don’t know,” said he. “My babies
don’t have their eyes open when they are born,
and they haven’t any hair.”
Jumper pricked up his long ears.
“What’s that?” said he. “Why,
my babies have their eyes open and have the dearest
little fur coats!”
Old Mother Nature chuckled.
“That is the difference,” said she.
“I guess both of you have learned something.”
“You said a little while ago
that Jumper isn’t the biggest of our family,”
said Peter. “If you please, who is?”
“There are several bigger than
Jumper,” replied Old Mother Nature, and smiled
as she saw the funny look of surprise on the faces
of Peter and Jumper. “There is one way
up the Frozen North and there are two cousins way
out in the Great West. They are as much bigger
than Jumper as Jumper is bigger than you, Peter.
But I haven’t time to tell you about them now.
If you really want to learn about them, be here promptly
at sun-up to-morrow morning. Hello! Here
comes Reddy Fox, and he looks to me as if a good breakfast
would not come amiss. Let me see what you have
learned about taking care of yourselves.”
Peter and Jumper gave one startled
look in the direction Mother Nature was pointing.
Sure enough, there was Reddy Fox. Not far away
was a hollow log. Peter wasted no time in getting
to it. In fact, he left in such a hurry that
he forgot to say good-by to Old Mother Nature.
But she didn’t mind, for she quite understood
Peter’s feelings, and she laughed when she saw
his funny little white tail disappear inside the hollow
log. As for Jumper, he promptly took to his
long legs and disappeared with great bounds, Reddy
Fox racing after him.