The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies

It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is soporific. I will tell you what soporific means, by and by, if you do not know. Benjamin Bunny had grown up, and he had married his cousin Flopsy. They had a great many children — a very great many children indeed. They were called the Flopsy Bunnies. When there was not quite enough to eat in the burrow, Benjamin used to borrow cabbages from Flopsy's brother, Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden. Sometimes Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare.

When Peter had nothing to give them, the Flopsy Bunnies went across the field to a rubbish heap in the ditch outside Mr. McGregor's garden. Mr. McGregor's rubbish heap was a wonderful place. He threw away all the things he did not want — old overgrown lettuces and marrows and rotting cabbages. The Flopsy Bunnies loved it. One warm afternoon, Benjamin led his children to the rubbish heap. They found a quantity of overgrown lettuces that had gone to seed. The little Flopsy Bunnies ate and ate and ate, until one by one they fell fast asleep among the mown grass and the vegetable peelings. Benjamin, who was older but not very much wiser, fell asleep too.

Mr. McGregor came round the corner with a sack. He was emptying the lawn mowings. He looked at the rubbish heap and found the sleeping bunnies. "One, two, three, four, five, six little rabbits!" he counted, dropping them into the sack one by one. "One, two, three, four, five, SIX little fat rabbits!" he said, rubbing his hands together. He tied up the sack and left it on the wall while he went to put away the mowing machine. The little bunnies dreamed that their mother was tucking them into bed. They did not feel anything at all.

Now, Mrs. Thomasina Tittlemouse, a woodmouse with sharp eyes, had been sitting in her doorway picking thorns out of her shawl. She had seen the whole thing. She ran to find Benjamin's wife. "Flopsy! Flopsy!" she squeaked. "Your children are in a sack! Mr. McGregor has taken them!" Flopsy was not a rabbit to waste time with crying. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

Benjamin and Flopsy arrived at the wall just in time. They nibbled a hole in the bottom of the sack and pulled out their children, one by one — still fast asleep and smelling of lettuce. Then they stuffed the sack full of three rotten vegetable marrows, an old blacking-brush, and two decayed turnips. They tied up the sack again very carefully and hurried away, carrying the sleeping bunnies.

When Mr. McGregor returned, he picked up the heavy sack, feeling it with satisfaction. "Six fine rabbits," he said to Mrs. McGregor. "We shall have rabbit pie and rabbit stew." But when he untied the sack and emptied it upon the kitchen floor, out tumbled three rotten marrows, an old blacking-brush, and two decayed turnips. Mr. McGregor was very, very angry. Mrs. McGregor was very, very angry. They could not understand how it had happened at all. And far away in the burrow under the fir tree, the Flopsy Bunnies slept peacefully in their warm beds, and they dreamed of lettuce. Benjamin afterwards bought a padlock for the sack, which was not very useful because it was already empty. But that, I think, is the way with rabbits.