The Tale of Benjamin Bunny

One fine morning, little Benjamin Bunny sat on top of a sunny bank and watched the road below. He was a confident young rabbit with a tam-o'-shanter cap and a cheerful disposition. From his perch, Benjamin spotted his cousin Peter sitting alone beneath a large oak tree. Poor Peter looked quite miserable indeed. He was wrapped in a red cotton handkerchief because he had lost all his clothes — his blue jacket with the brass buttons and both his little shoes — in Mr. McGregor's garden. "Peter!" called Benjamin, hopping down the bank. "Whatever is the matter? You look dreadfully sorry for yourself." Peter sniffled. "I lost my clothes, Benjamin. Every last stitch. And Mother was so very cross with me." Benjamin tilted his tam-o'-shanter and thought for a moment. Then his whiskers twitched with an idea.

"We shall go and get them back," announced Benjamin, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "Mr. McGregor and Mrs. McGregor have gone out in the gig. I saw them driving away myself. The garden will be quite empty." Peter trembled from the tips of his ears to the cotton-ball of his tail. He did not wish to go anywhere near that garden ever again. But Benjamin was already marching down the road with great determination, and Peter, who did not like to be left behind, followed close at his heels. They squeezed under the gate and crept between the rows of cabbages. The garden was very still. A robin sang from the gooseberry bush, and the only sound was the soft patter of their paws upon the earth.

And there, standing in the middle of the vegetable patch, was Mr. McGregor's scarecrow — and it was wearing Peter's clothes! The blue jacket hung upon the scarecrow's wooden arms, looking rather worse for the rain. The brass buttons glinted dully in the morning light. Peter's shoes sat at the scarecrow's feet, stuffed with straw. "How perfectly ridiculous," said Benjamin. He climbed up and pulled off the jacket, shaking out the straw. Peter put on his shoes, stamping his feet to make sure they still fit properly. "There," said Benjamin with satisfaction. "Now let us fill this handkerchief with onions as a present for Aunt. It would be a terrible waste to leave without gathering something."

They had just finished filling the red handkerchief with onions and lettuce when they heard a sound that made their blood run cold — the soft, padding footsteps of a cat. It was the big tabby cat who belonged to Mr. McGregor. She sat down upon the garden path and stared at them with her great green eyes. She did not move. She simply stared, which was somehow worse than chasing. Benjamin and Peter crept behind a large wicker basket. But the cat settled herself in front of it and stayed there for five whole hours. I am sorry to say that Peter was quite beside himself with fright. He trembled so hard that the onions rattled inside the handkerchief. They sat underneath that basket, in the dark and the smell of onions, for what seemed like a very, very long time indeed.

At last, when the afternoon shadows were growing long, there was a tremendous noise — a scratching and a scuffling and a thumping upon the garden wall. It was old Mr. Benjamin Bunny Senior — Benjamin's father. He was a stern rabbit with no opinion whatsoever of cats. He marched straight up to the tabby, took her by the scruff, and pushed her firmly into the greenhouse, locking the door behind her. Then he turned to his son and his nephew. He was not pleased. He pulled Benjamin out by his ears and cuffed him soundly. He stamped upon Benjamin's tam-o'-shanter. "You ought to have known better," said old Mr. Bouncer severely.

Old Mr. Bouncer marched the two young rabbits all the way home through the wood, carrying the handkerchief of onions himself. When they arrived at Peter's burrow, Peter's mother was overjoyed to see her son's blue jacket restored. She forgave Peter everything and hung the jacket on a little hook behind the door, where it belonged. She was also very grateful for the onions, and made a most excellent rabbit stew for supper. As for Benjamin, he sat in the corner with rather sore ears, but he did not mind so very much. He had got back Peter's clothes, and he had gathered the onions, and that, thought Benjamin, was a very good day's work. And that is the tale of how Benjamin Bunny helped his cousin Peter, and how a father's firmness saved them both from a most disagreeable cat.