短篇经典童话故事集（精选10篇）由网友“FongWai”投稿提供，下面是小编给各位读者分享的短篇经典童话故事集，欢迎大家分享。
篇1：短篇童话故事集
有一天，小鱼儿看见天上的云霞，她以为那是一条纱巾呢!小鱼儿就天天梦想，我要是有一条纱巾，缠在脖子上，该有多美呀!可惜小鱼儿不能亲自到岸上去，那条美丽的纱巾，在岸上的商店里，一定买得到。
小鱼儿做梦都在念叨着：“纱巾，纱巾，美丽的纱巾……”
“扑通!”一声，青蛙跳进水里，把小鱼儿的好梦吵醒了。
“刚才你说什么?花生?”
“不是花生，是纱巾!”
“噢，是虾精呀!”青蛙钻进水里，听觉一直不太好，“哪儿有虾精?我去把他赶跑!”
“拜托，不是虾精，是纱巾，绕在脖子上的那种，很漂亮，很漂亮的虾精……”你看，小鱼儿都给气糊涂了。
“还是虾精嘛!”青蛙的脸上，鼓起了两个大包。
“我不跟你说了，人家说纱巾，你偏要说虾精，哪里有什么虾精嘛!”
“是纱巾呀!这下我听明白了，你等着，我去去就来。”青蛙向岸上跳去。
过了一会儿，青蛙跳进水里，手里拿着一条白纱巾。“送给你，亲爱的小鱼儿。”青蛙双手托着白纱巾，就像献上洁白的哈达。
“我要的'不是白纱巾，是那种……”
“没关系，你等着，我去去就来。”青蛙一向是急性子，又向岸上跳去。
过了一会儿，他手里拿着一条蓝纱巾，向小鱼儿游来。
“我要的不是蓝纱巾，是那种……”
“没关系，你等着，我去去就来。”青蛙立即上岸去，换了一条红纱巾。
“不是红纱巾，是那种……”
“没关系。”青蛙这回拿来的是黄纱巾。
“不是黄纱巾……”
好在青蛙的大腿很有劲儿，他跑来跑去地给小鱼儿换上了绿纱巾、紫纱巾、金色的纱巾、灰色的纱巾，可惜都不是小鱼儿想要的那种。
“商店的老板都不愿意换了。”青蛙小声地说。
“对不起，青蛙。”小鱼儿也觉得不好意思。
“可是，你到底想要什么样的纱巾呢?”青蛙问。
“你跟我来—— ”小鱼儿拉着青蛙，穿过石缝，绕过荷茎，游过水草，在一个透明的水面，两人一起向天边望去。
“你看，就是那种纱巾。”小鱼儿说。
“傻小鱼儿，那不是纱巾，那是天上的云霞。”青蛙说。
青蛙一回头，一下子惊呆了：“小鱼儿，你别动，你真是太、太……”
“我怎么啦?有什么不对劲吗?”小鱼儿不明白。
“你缠上纱巾的样子，真是太、太……太美了。”青蛙激动得结结巴巴。
“纱巾?什么纱巾?你别哄我。”
小鱼儿从小包里拿出玻璃镜子，往里边一看：哈，一根水草正好绕在她的脖子上，在透过水面的阳光照射下，闪闪发光，像云霞一样美丽。
篇2：短篇童话故事集
一片绿叶从大树上飘下来，落到了地上，给三只蚂蚁看到了。三只蚂蚁爬上了绿叶，躺了下来，都說：“真舒服!多柔软的绿毯子。”
突然，刮来一阵大风，吹跑了绿叶，带走了三只蚂蚁。绿叶飞啊飞，三只蚂蚁像坐着飞机，可带劲啦!
啪!绿叶飞到了一只大猩猩的脸上。大猩猩抓住绿叶一瞧，說：“呵，是一片鲜嫩的树叶，让我尝一尝。”
“别吃，别吃!”三只蚂蚁一起喊，“这是我们坐的飞机呀!”
大猩猩一愣，看见了三只蚂蚁，說：“对不起，我没看清楚，差点儿把你们一块儿吃进了肚子里。”
“飞吧!”大猩猩捧起绿叶，使劲地吹了一口气，呼!把绿叶吹得又高又远。
绿叶飞啊飞，啪!飞到了一头大河马的鼻子上。大河马打了个大喷嚏：阿嚏!把绿叶一下喷上了天。
绿叶飘啊飘啊，正巧落到了一头大象的长鼻子上。三只蚂蚁急忙喊：“大象爷爷，我们迷路了，请您帮帮我们，把我们的飞机开回家好吗?”
“好呀，”大象說，“你们的家在哪里呀?”
三只蚂蚁伸手一指：“喏，就在那边一棵大树下。”
大象把长鼻子一甩，用鼻孔吸住了绿叶，然后把长鼻子一竖。噗!长鼻子喷出一股很足的气，把绿叶喷得又高又远，落到了大树下。
三只蚂蚁乐坏了，都說：“大象爷爷的长鼻子真厉害!一下子就把我们送回了家。”
篇3：短篇童话故事集
小刺猬一家住在森林湖中的桃桃岛上，岛上有一棵美丽的樱桃树。
一天，小刺猬对妈妈说：“看，樱桃快熟了。”妈妈说：“宝贝，等樱桃红了，我们可以做樱桃大餐。”“哦，太棒了!”小刺猬盼望樱桃快快红。微风吹过桃桃岛，樱桃熟了，又红又亮，散发着阵阵清香。小刺猬提着小竹篮去捡樱桃。
他在樱桃树下转来转去。只捡到几颗小鸟吃剩的小樱桃。怎么办呢?小刺猬躺在森林湖边的草丛里，望着天空，心想：“如果我能像小鸟一样飞该多好呀……”
啪嗒，一滴水珠落在小刺猬的脸上，要下雨了。小刺猬摘了一片大大的草叶儿顶在头上。湖面泛着蓝绿色，雨点从天空纷纷扬扬落下。
忽然，湖水里冒出一条巨大的怪鱼，盯着小刺猬。
小刺猬吓得丢掉小竹篮，几颗樱桃掉进湖里，怪鱼张开大嘴吃了一颗。怪鱼问：“你摘了许多樱桃吗?”
“我……我摘不到，只是捡了几颗掉在树下的。”小刺猬回答。
“你现在去树下等着!”怪鱼说。
小刺猬飞快地跑到樱桃树下。咚咚咚，桃桃岛被什么撞了几下，樱桃树摇晃起来，红红的樱桃落在软软的草地上。
不一会儿，小刺猬捡了满满一篮子红樱桃。他回到湖边，将一些红樱桃轻轻放在怪鱼的大嘴巴里。
怪鱼满意地点点头：“真甜!谢谢你，我要将樱桃核儿带到别的岛去。再见!”小刺猬望着怪鱼离去的背影，真大呀!
小刺猬带着红樱桃回家。刺猬妈妈做了樱桃果汁、樱桃饼、樱桃面包……刺猬爸爸和小刺猬的肚子吃得圆滚滚的，小刺猬一家很开心。
篇4：童话故事集精选
有一幢房子骄傲地挺立在街道旁，她是那么美丽，来来往往的人总爱赞叹说：“哦，多么漂亮的房子呀!”东奔西跑的汽车经过这里也爱鸣一声喇叭说：“嘟——可爱的房子，你好啊!”
房子很快活，她喜欢这里的一切。
这天，她正同门口的一辆红汽车聊天聊得高兴，一只鸽子飞来停在屋顶上。“咕咕，我造了一个漂亮的窝。”鸽子骄傲地说。
“窝是什么?”房子间。
“傻瓜，窝就是我住的地方，就是我的家。”
“那么，我该住什么地方，哪儿是我的家?”房子问。
鸽子同情地说：“咕咕，房子是不能住房子的，你不会有家。”
“为什么?”可怜的房子瞪大眼睛问。
“就因为你是房子呀，你只能给别人做房子，我真为你感到难过。”鸽子外外翅膀说，“咕咕，咕咕，再见，我得回窝里去了。”
红汽车也说：“嘀——嘀——再见，我得回我的车房去了。”
房子闷闷不乐地垂着头。
“我想有个家，一个不需要太宽敞的地方……”一阵歌声，不知从谁家的录音机里飘出。
房子的心情糟透了，瞧，家是多么重要啊，连歌声也要找个家呢!
在此之前，房子从来都没有想过这个问题。“不行，我一定得为自己找一幢房子，找一个属于自己的家。”房子的这个念头，搅得她一刻也不得安宁。
趁着半夜人们都睡着了，她把自己的身体从地上拔起来。
房子走上大街，她看见一幢很高的楼房。“唔，这幢楼房不错，又高又大，做我的房子正合适。”房子站住了，她满怀希望地叫道：“高楼，你好，请你当我的房子好吗?”
高楼说：“我的门是专门为人修的，这么小，这么矮，你进不来呀!”
房子走呀，走出城。
野外的房子比城市少多了。房子好不容易找到一个村庄，天哪，她倒抽了一口气，这儿的房子个头还不如自己大呢!
她走呀，走呀，走到大山里面。嗬，这儿有一个大山洞，洞口好大好大，“哈哈，这下我找到自己的房子了!”房子高高兴兴往里走，突然，一个可怕的声音吼道：“哇呀呀，出去，出去，怎么能随随便便住到我家里来呢?真不像话!”
天哪，原来这是老虎的家!
房子赶快退出山洞。
房子找了一晚上，走得又累又疲倦，一个适合自己住的地方也寻不到。
房子非常伤心：“呜呜呜，我要是人就好了，人有房子住;我要是鸟就好了，鸟有自己的窝;我要是蜜蜂，也有一间小小的蜂房呀。可是，我是倒霉的房子，永远都没有自己的家，呜呜，当房子可怜呀……”
“房子呀，你哭什么?”一棵苍老的大树问道。
“我没有家，没有一座属于自己住的房子。”
大树哈哈笑着说：“谁说你没有家，没有房子呀?瞧，整个天空是你的屋顶，整个大地是你的房间。在你的家里，什么东西都应有尽有，上有太阳月亮星星，下有城市山水森林，拥有这样的家，难道还不能使你快乐吗?”
房子怔住了，她瞪大眼睛仔细想：“是的，我有世界上最大最大的房子!”她高兴了，“天哪，原来我的房子比所有的房子都可爱呀1”
房子急急忙忙返回了城市。从此以后，她又成了一幢快快乐乐的房子。
篇5：童话故事集精选
最新童话故事集精选：长不大的红衫树
一棵红杉树的种子对妈妈说：“妈妈，我已经成熟了，让风伯伯带我到远方去扎根吧。”
“不，孩子，你离开妈妈的照顾，离开周围叔叔伯伯们的保护，是长不好的，还是留在我身边吧。”这颗红杉树种子拗不过妈妈，只好扎进妈妈脚下的泥土里。这颗种子的兄弟姐妹都随风伯伯到远处的开阔地扎根落土了。
春天到了，这颗种子从泥土里钻出来，看看妈妈高大的身躯，再看周围叔叔伯伯们巨大的枝干，油然而生一种安全感。大风刮来，呼呼作响，有叔叔伯伯们的包围，他小红杉树安然无恙;暴雨如注，有妈妈做伞，小红杉树如在温室。小红杉树心想，幸亏我没随风伯伯到远处去落土，不然我该怎样抵挡风雨啊：
可是，当小红杉树要吸吮土壤中养分的时候，营养已被叔叔伯伯们吸走;他要迎接阳光雨露，却被妈妈的高大身躯遮住。这样，一年又一年地过去了，小红杉树还是那么小，他成了病弱极小长不大的小不点啦。当他听风伯伯说，那些在远方扎根的兄弟姐妹，都长成参天大树的时候，便深有感触地说：“整天躺在妈妈的怀里，是长不大的。”
最新童话故事集精选：悠幽谷的红鲤鱼
悠幽谷是这一片山区的名字。悠幽谷下起了大雨，小鸟的说话声，好听的山歌声，都被轰轰轰的雨声代替了。悠幽谷变得暗了、更静了。有个叫雨的男孩子飞快地跑到山脚下的溪流边。下雨天，溪水很多很多，这时，就会有一条红鲤鱼游进绿绿的溪水里来。
雨是和红鲤鱼同一天来到山寨的。那是七八年前的一天，哗哗的雨声和呼呼的风声快把山寨淹没了，好像世界上只有雨声和风声。可是，山寨里的老奶奶却听到了孩子的哭声。老奶奶寻着哭声来到溪流边，看见了躺在溪边的咪咪小的雨。老奶奶弯腰抱起雨：“不哭不哭，回家回家。”呀，溪水里跃起一条红鲤鱼，朝他们摇晃着尾巴，怀里的孩子立刻不哭了。老奶奶在山寨里住了七十多年，从没听说过这条溪流里有鱼。从那天起，大雨天的溪流里，就会有一条红鲤鱼。不会走路的雨会哇哇大哭，直到老奶奶背着他来到溪边，看见红鲤鱼，雨才咯咯笑起来。老奶奶给孩子起名叫雨。
等到雨会走路，就不用老奶奶背了，一到大雨天，雨就会一路狂奔来到溪流边，和红鲤鱼见面。有一次雨问红鲤鱼它的家在哪里?红鲤鱼说：“顺着溪流游啊游啊，就游进了大河里，再游啊游啊，就游进了辽阔的大海。”“大海是什么样的?”“大海啊，大海是蔚蓝蔚蓝的。”下一次见面的时候，红鲤鱼就给雨带来了一只小海螺：“你把海螺放在耳边，就能听见大海的声音了。”
有一次，雨问红鲤鱼大山外是什么。红鲤鱼说：“大山外有城市。”“城市里有什么?”“城市里有很多房子，还有马路，马路上有很多汽车。”后来，红鲤鱼给雨带来了一本用塑料做的图画书，书上画的讲的都是城市里的事情。
就这样，雨有了很多红鲤鱼送的礼物。山寨里的孩子们都很喜欢雨，因为雨会给他们看很多他们没见过的东西，讲很多他们不知道的事情。
老奶奶从溪边抱回雨时，山寨里的人都为慈爱善良的老奶奶担心。老奶奶孤身一人，又没有个帮手，怎么养活雨呢?他们劝老奶奶把雨交给别人养吧。老奶奶说：“有谁会把自己的孩子交给别人呢?”老奶奶在梦里无数次梦见自己的孩子，和雨长得真像啊。不过，后来老奶奶真的有了帮手，老奶奶的水缸从来没有空过，老奶奶的菜篮里总会有各种各样的鱼啊，虾啊，海带啊。
日子过去了一年又一年。一天，老奶奶在溪边找到了红鲤鱼，告诉红鲤鱼自己太老了，快要离开住了一辈子的山寨了，还谢谢红鲤鱼为她带来了雨，有了雨做伴，自己是多么地快活。
一个风雨交加的日子，老奶奶和雨都不见了。寨子里的大人、小孩奔到溪流边，想看看红鲤鱼还来不来。正如他们猜想的，红鲤鱼没有来，从那天起，红鲤鱼再也没有来过。
这场大雨过后，很多天都没有下雨。溪水退去，人们发现了一块刻着红鲤鱼的木牌。他们把木牌收起来，他们怀念老奶奶、雨和红鲤鱼。他们说，因为有了雨，慈爱的老奶奶有多快活;雨，又是多么让老奶奶疼爱啊。雨的朋友们都长大了，他们说：红鲤鱼讲的山外的故事很好听。
最新童话故事集精选：王子的一天
“叮咚!叮咚!叮咚!……”是谁啊，星期六大清早的来敲门?门铃锲而不舍地响了一遍又一遍。
“A。奶奶——不可能，她有钥匙;B。抄水表的——也不可能，那个阿姨会大声嚷嚷：305!305有人吗?C。陈智超——也不太可能，他不会那么早来;D。那会是谁呢?”老圣恩被铃声吵醒，躺在床上小声做选择题，自己出题自己解。
门铃响了不下十遍，看来敲门人没有想走的意思。老圣恩爸爸发扬风格，从暖被窝里爬起——“谁呀?”
“是我。”
“你是谁?”
“我是王子!”
哇!王子!老圣恩应声而起，仰天长叹：“我们的出游又泡汤了!
王子不请自到，手里拎了个大纸袋进到卧室一“姐姐，这是我和徐圣恩一起吃的，有牛奶、香肠、薯片，还有玩具!我妈妈说，我今天可以一天在你们家!我爸爸去外地了。”王子奔跳着又跑去外问。老圣恩边穿衣边冲妈妈做鬼脸。
呵，想起来了吧?——这个管老圣恩妈妈叫“姐姐”的王子，就是开篇里出现的小男孩，楼下修锁匠的儿子。
王子要在老圣恩家待一天。他拿起桌上的望远镜，左看右看，恍然大悟道：“我知道望远镜了，近的地方能看远!”
老圣恩一把抢过道：“王子，你拿反了!”
老圣恩妈妈没听明白，叫他解释一遍。王子想了想说：“就是人在近的地方能看远!”
老圣恩让他再看。王子倒转过来望向窗外，发出欢呼：“哇，果然远啊!哇，一幢房子，好近啊!”
王子拿出纸袋里一个铁做的陀螺，说是妈妈的奖励。
“妈妈为什么要奖励你?”
“因为我考试考得好。”
“你考了几分?”
“63分。”
“什么63分?”
“语文!”
说着陀螺转起来。抽得太用力了，铁陀螺在木地板上惊天动地，一时停不下来。王子等不及，大喊着：“快停下，你这个持久型的笨蛋!”见喊了没用，直接上去踩它一脚!
老圣恩吃完了早饭，两个人蹲在书房里玩，说到“三国杀”，王子急急地说他知道。老圣恩表示不屑：“你是菜鸟!”
“你才是菜鸟!”王子反击。
“什么是菜鸟?”老圣恩的奶奶正好进门。
“菜鸟就是菜堆成的鸟，菜鸟的意思就是废物……”王子很有礼貌地喊奶奶，并向奶奶热心解释。老圣恩表示沉默。
老圣恩妈妈的艾盐包冷掉了，放到微波炉里加热，热完了拿出来暖脚。王子看到了很惊奇：“哎，你们的热水袋是什么馅的?可以在微波炉里热啊?”
“那你们的是什么馅的?”
“我们的是充电的，用的时候先插一会充电。”
老圣恩妈妈干脆放下书逗他说话：“你妈妈让你来，怎么不把功课带上?“
“我作业都做完啦!”王子朗声道。
“什么时候做完的?”
“前天!”
“哎，不对吧?应该是昨天，昨天才星期五。”
“那就昨天!”
老圣恩觉得王子太幼稚了，不想和他玩，转身打开了iPad，一个人玩“水果忍者”。王子黏过去，央求道：“小姐姐，我也想玩。”
“不行!”老圣恩头也不抬，不容商量。王子悻悻地在边上看。
瞅准了时机，王子跑来向老圣恩妈妈报告：“姐姐，你看她，踩着篮球吃虾条，小心摔跤，摔得屁股滚瓜烂熟!”“话音刚落，噗通——自己从凳子上摔下来了。老圣恩很解气地哈哈大笑。
王子摸摸屁股，呼地扑向沙发——头抵在了老圣恩妈妈身上——哇!嘴巴里全是蛀牙!老圣恩妈妈大惊失色——“啊呀，原来你还是蛀牙王子!”
篇6：童话故事集
一条漂亮的小鱼游进池塘，她的到来，立刻引起老居民的兴趣：小虾吩咐螃蟹选一处水草茂密的地方给她安家，还叫螃蟹帮她留心不怀好意的鲢鱼和蛇。
“谢谢你们。”漂亮的小鱼给他俩讲起了自己一路上的见闻。
“要是有机会，我们一起出去走走，你们不知道，旅游是件多么愉快的事情。”小鱼说。
“哈哈，和美丽的女士一起旅游肯定是件让人开心的事。”小虾很神往。
螃蟹只是举着自己的大钳子时刻提防着每一个角落，生，怕不小心会钻出不怀好意的家伙。
他也觉得能跟小鱼这样美丽的女士一起旅游会是件美妙的事，可是他很自卑。虽然小鱼这么说，但他还是不确信会真的带他去。
他们都开始盼望老天能早点下雨，一下雨，池塘就会满，就有机会游到别的地方去了。
可是老天爷故意给这三个小伙伴出难题，就是不下雨。毒辣辣的太阳可是个馋嘴的家伙，他伸出舌头舔一舔，池塘里的水就被它舔去了一大半。再舔一舔，池塘里的水更少了。
“看来我要在这个池塘里送命了。”小鱼沮丧地说，“不过还不错，因为有你们在，我过了一段快乐的时光。”
螃蟹和小虾是有腿的，可以爬到不远处的一个水库里。
“你们快走吧。”小鱼儿说。
“我喜欢和你在一起。”小虾说。
螃蟹动了动嘴，他虽然也想说这一句话，可是他最终没说出来。
又过了一天，池塘的水真的干了，小鱼默默祈祷：“赶快下雨吧，这个池塘里还有我的朋友!”螃蟹和小虾也默默祈祷。可惜，头顶的太阳仍然那么毒辣!
小虾坚持不下去了，说：“真需要撤了，不然再过一会儿，我就成红壳虾了。”
“怎么撤啊?”螃蟹终于说话了。
小虾说：“可以背着小鱼走。”
“背?”螃蟹说，“小鱼一离开水就会没命叭”
听了螃蟹的话，小虾迟疑了一下说：“那我先去看看那个水库，在那里，也许我会想出更好的办法。”
螃蟹知道他不会回来了，但并没有阻止。
“你也走吧，”小鱼说，“我希望我的朋友幸福地活着。”
“你不知道我现在有多幸福!”螃蟹仍然呵呵地笑着说，“我喜欢和朋友在一起，不管任何时候。”
太阳无情地蒸发着?也塘里最后一点水分。小鱼不说话了，她已经陷入昏迷。
“嗨，亲爱的朋友，我的话还没说完呢。”螃蟹对着小鱼的嘴不停地吐泡泡，希望她能醒过来。
“我好渴。”小鱼迷迷糊糊地说。
“我的身体里还有水，可以匀给你!”螃蟹安慰她。
水吐完，我还有沫，说着螃蟹用白色的沫，一点点一点点裹住小鱼的身体……
太阳羞愧了，他躲进了乌云。越来越多的乌云聚拢在池塘的上空。“啪”，一滴雨点打在小鱼的身上，她翘了一下尾巴，好凉爽。劈劈啪啪——雨点接连不断地落下，小鱼儿眨眨眼睛，醒了。“现在，我就带你去旅行。”她对螃蟹说，螃蟹开心地笑了。
最新童话故事集：布娃娃与小女孩
从前，有一个老奶奶，她无依无靠，没有孩子，孤单单的一个人，靠捡废品卖维持生活。
这天上午，她在一个垃圾箱旁边看到一个纸箱，里面装有一个小女婴。她心疼的抱起这个被人遗弃女婴，带回家抚养，并且起了个名字叫婴婴。
老奶奶的家在市郊，是一间用旧木板子搭起的破木屋，四面通风，里面又黑又潮湿，经常有老鼠跑来跑去。
白天，老奶奶把小婴婴包好背在背上，然后到城里去，人们经常可以看到这位老奶奶，一手拿着翻动垃圾的木棍，一手拿着捡来的废品，背后还背着一个小女婴，在街道和商店的垃圾箱翻找能卖钱的东西。
晚上，老奶奶回到家里，从那些捡来食品中挑选些好的食物喂小婴婴，然后再整理被老鼠弄得乱七八糟的家，她们每天都是这样的生活。
几年过去，小婴婴渐渐长大，老奶奶每天都是带着她去城里捡废品卖维持生活。这时小婴婴已经有些懂事了，她也经常捡些小纸片等废品交给老奶奶，或者是坐在商店台阶上，等待老奶奶捡完废品后再带她离开。
这天，老奶奶带着小婴婴经过一家卖布娃娃的商店。商店的橱窗摆放着各种各样的布娃娃。这些布娃娃穿着漂亮的衣服和裙子，头发有黑色、金黄色的、棕色的。而且嘴唇都是红红的，眼睛还有长长的眼毛。这些布娃娃在灯光照耀下，漂亮极了。小婴婴被迷住了，她睁大黑亮的眼睛，一直看着这些布娃娃。她的心里想，我有一个这样布娃娃多好!
奶奶，我要这个?小婴婴小小的手指着这些布娃娃喃喃的说。
婴婴，奶奶没有钱，买不起。奶奶虽然耳朵已经完全聋了，但她知道小婴婴说话的意思，说完就拉小婴婴的手想离开。
但是小婴婴不肯走，她是第一次看到布娃娃这样漂亮的玩具。因为她从来都没有什么玩具，她想多看几眼。
这时，商店门口开了，从里面走出一位小女孩和她的母亲。她们穿着漂亮光鲜的衣服，小女孩两只手各拿着一个漂亮的大娃娃，从台阶走了下来。
小婴婴眼睛紧紧盯着这个小女孩双手拿着的大布娃娃，她的眼睛里充满羡慕，一直望着那小女孩同她妈妈坐着车子离开。
小婴婴这时在想，为什么她有这样漂亮的布娃娃?我为什么没有?
商店的老板是个胖胖的男人，他送购买布娃娃的母女上车走后，回来时看到这两个捡废品的老奶奶和小女孩还在他商店橱窗前，他挥挥手大声的说：走!走!走!一副厌恶的表情。
小婴婴第一次看到这样凶的人，她感到非常害怕，被吓得哭了起来。老奶奶赶紧牵着她的手走了。
离开商店后，小婴婴才渐渐停止哭泣，她幼小的心灵受到伤害。她不明白，为什么自己没有漂亮的布娃娃?为什么这个人这么凶!
后来小婴婴每次同老奶奶走过这家商店时，她们都不敢靠近，小婴婴的眼睛一直望着橱窗里的布娃娃，她真想多看几眼，但是老奶奶还是紧紧拉着她的手，脚步不停走了过去。
看到小婴婴如此爱布娃娃，老奶奶挑选捡来的几块碎花布，洗干净后自己用针线做了个小小的布娃娃。虽然这个布娃娃远远比不上商店卖的布娃娃那样漂亮精致，只是有点像布娃娃的样子，但是小婴婴得到这个布娃娃她还是高兴极了。
这天晚上，小婴婴紧紧抱着这个布娃娃睡觉。她做了一个非常好的梦，梦见自己同布娃娃说话，一起跟奶奶捡废品，一起快乐的玩耍。
小婴婴每天仍然跟着老奶奶去捡废品卖钱，但她都是带着她的布娃娃一起去。因为平时都没有别的小孩子同她玩耍，布娃娃就是她唯一的伙伴。
一年过去了，小婴婴这个布娃娃已经又破又烂。但她舍不得扔掉，她还是每天抱着布娃娃依偎在奶奶怀里睡觉。
这天，老奶奶想，自己捡小婴婴来养已经三年多了。这几年存了一点点钱，今天早些出去捡废品卖，再凑些钱就可以帮小婴婴买一个便宜的布娃娃了。
而且老奶奶也知道，自己年纪已经很大了，将来是没有能力帮小婴婴买这样的东西了。
老奶奶看见今天天空灰蒙蒙的，可能会下雨。于是老奶奶决定将小婴婴留在家里，自己这样可以去远些地方捡多些废品卖。于是她对小婴婴说，奶奶今天去很远的地方捡废品卖。这样可以凑够钱帮你买一个漂亮的布娃娃。
小婴婴懂事的点点头，她很高兴，知道今天晚上奶奶回来时，自己终于有一个真正的布娃娃了。
老奶奶出门交代小婴婴坐在家里，不要出去。如果看见老鼠就拿木棍打它，等到晚上奶奶就会买布娃娃回来的。
老奶奶出门去了，她不停的走啊，走到很远的地方去捡废品，到了下午卖完废品后，她终于凑够买布娃娃的钱。
她来到这家商店，一步一步慢慢走上台阶，轻轻的推开了门。商店老板睁大眼睛看着这位捡废品的老奶奶，他不知她今天为什么来到自己商店?当他听老奶奶说要买一个布娃娃时，更是感到不可思议。因为他从来没有这样想到，捡废品卖的人会来这里买价钱很贵的布娃娃。
老奶奶慢慢从衣服里面的口袋拿出一个破旧小口袋，从里面拿出的钱全部都是零钱，这些都是她卖废品存下的。最后，老奶奶买了一个价钱便宜的布娃娃。
老奶奶慢慢走下商店台阶，这时天空已经开始下雨。为了布娃娃不被雨淋湿，老奶奶把拿着布娃娃的手放进怀里，她要赶紧回去，把布娃娃给小婴婴。因为自己出来太久，而且小婴婴是第一次一个人在家，她有些担心。
这时雨越下越大，但是她顾不得躲雨，她一心想快些回去。当她走过路口时，被一辆急驶的车子撞飞。当人们来到老奶奶面前时，发现她受伤很严重，已经完全不省人事，但手上还是紧紧抓着这个布娃娃。
人们把老奶奶送到医院，但是终因为伤势过重抢救无效死亡。医生好不容易才解开老奶奶手，把布娃娃拿了出来。大家都不明白?为什么这个捡废品卖的老奶奶买一个布娃娃干什么?周围的人也不知道这老奶奶住在哪里?警察局也不知道怎样通知她的家人。
这时的小婴婴正在破木屋里等待老奶奶回来。她一只手紧紧抓着那个破烂的布娃娃，另一只手拿着打老鼠的木棍。她站在门后面，从门缝一直望着外面，但是都不见奶奶回来。
篇7：经典童话故事集
喔喔喔,公鸡可可上班了,天亮了.动物家园的小狗萌萌睁开了眼睛.没看到妈妈便大声哭起来.妈妈听到了,急忙从厨房跑过来.妈妈一边给它穿衣服,一边哄着它.
开饭了,一家人坐在桌前准备吃饭,呜呜呜,小狗萌萌又哭了,怎么没有最爱吃的肉包子.妈妈说:“今天去晚了,源源面食店卖完了”.爸爸说:“明天爸爸给你买,咱们先吃花卷.”哇哇哇.小狗萌萌哭的更凶了,没办法,妈妈只好到邻居家要了两个.哎,妈妈叹了口气.
吃完饭,小狗萌萌要画画,油画棒找不到了,它又“哇哇哇”大哭起来.邻居胖胖熊捂着耳朵说:“烦死了,烦死了!烦死了!”小狗萌萌不停地哭呀哭.泪水流成了河,流进了邻居胖胖熊的家.不好了,不好啦,发大水啦……
有一天，小狗萌萌找朋友们玩，呼噜猪碰到它一下，它就哭。玩藏猫猫找不到朋友它也哭。朋友们都走了。小狗萌萌又大哭起来。小喜鹊站在树上唱道:“羞羞羞,把脸抠,找不到东西就知道哭!哈哈哈，找不到朋友就知道哭，以后没人和你玩。真可笑,真可笑,你说可笑不可笑!”小狗萌萌一听,不哭了.冲着喜鹊叫道：“不哭不哭就不哭，我以后再也不哭了。”从此以后，小狗萌萌改掉了爱哭的毛病。
篇8：经典童话故事集
小白兔在草地上玩.它一会儿看花，一会儿采蘑菇，真开心.
忽然，下雨了，小白兔采了一张大大的荷叶做伞.这时候，它看见一只小鸡被雨淋得叽叽叫.
小白兔说：”小鸡，快到荷叶伞下躲躲雨吧.“
小鸡很感谢小白兔，和小白兔一起顶着大荷叶向前走.
一只小猫在雨中喵喵叫.
小白兔，小鸡一起叫到：”小猫快到荷叶伞下来吧.“
小猫说：”谢谢你们.“它们赶快钻到大荷叶下.
大荷叶下，三只小动物紧紧地靠在一起，一点雨也淋不到.
雨停了，太阳公公出来了.三个好朋友在一起做游戏，真开心.
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篇9：听童话故事集
听童话故事大全集1：被欺骗了的太阳和月亮
很久很久以前，那时候天上还没有星星，地球上还没有出现我们人类。
每天，为了保护地球妈妈不让坏人欺负，太阳和月亮兄弟俩都要携手从天空的一边巡到另一边。虽然他们是一个妈妈生的，可是性格却完全相反。太阳很热情急燥，月亮很冷漠孤僻。不过这并不妨碍他们同心协力地去——保护妈妈。就这样过去了一年又一年，一年又一年。
直到黑魔的出现。
黑魔到底是谁呢?他原本是森林里一条狡诈的小河妖，心还不算太坏。后来因王母娘娘一次下凡游玩不慎滑倒，幸遇在一旁玩耍的他扶了一把。
为答谢他扶助之恩，王母暗中教了他几招法术，并特批他可自由出入天地间。这一来了了得，本来小河妖平日里就喜欢干坏事，学会法术后仗着得王母宠爱，更是得意。时常炫耀自己，欺负别人。渐渐地，小河妖长大了。坏事却越发做得多了，于是大家都叫他黑魔，老远看到他就悄悄躲开。
黑魔早就听说过太阳和月亮了，因为大家对他们的赞美一直没有停过;当然兄弟俩也早就听说过他了，不过都是又在哪哪做什么坏事了。
这不，有一天，由于百花仙子没有邀请他参加一年一度的百花会，心胸狭窄的黑魔不仅把仙子家的花园给砸个稀巴烂，还发水想把仙子的姐妹们淹在水里。正在危急关头，太阳和月亮正好路过，二话不说，就兄弟联手把黑魔给狠狠揍了一顿，把仙子她们给救出来了。
“可恶，你们哥俩等着瞧，我不会放过你们的。哼!”临走，黑魔发狠撂下话拔腿就走。
太阳月亮自然不会把他的话放在心上，他们还要去看妈妈呢，哪顾得上管他?
可是，这次黑魔真的说到做到。强烈的嫉妒心已经让他失去了理智。
“不管用什么办法，我一定要你们知道我的厉害。”他一直以为大家对他不好的印象都是因为，太阳和月亮的存在。
听童话故事大全集2:奥运赛前
刚刚从建国60周年大型庆祝典礼上回来的马小跳，带领着跳跳电视台的全体成员马不停蹄地来到奥运村。正准备进去，马小跳高声提醒张达和毛超：“我们刚刚采访完建国60周年的庆祝活动，接下来就要采访奥运项目了，你们可别给我搞砸了!”张达吞吞吐吐地说：“知……知道了。”随后他们进入了奥运村。
啊!村里可真美啊!有郁郁葱葱的大树，宽阔的道路两旁种满了奇奇特特的花儿，茂盛的小草，整整齐齐的房子在阳光下闪闪发光。
他们正看得入神。这时迎面走来奥运村村长 皮皮鲁 先生，他热情地对马小跳他们说：“朋友们，欢迎你们来到奥运村，辛苦你们了，我能为你们效劳吗?”
“我们是跳跳电视台的，刚采访完建国60周年典礼，能采访一下关于奥运的情况吗?” 马小跳高兴地说。
“OK!那我们就边参观边聊吧!” 皮皮鲁点点头说。
经过皮皮鲁村长的介绍，马小跳了解到了奥运比赛场馆还没有建造。马小跳建议皮皮鲁村长到网上去查一查，看谁有承包建造的能力。他们一行来到了奥运村网络室，经一比较，决定由孙悟空和中国奥特曼共同来打造奥运比赛场馆。于是皮皮鲁村长特意给他们各自发了个E-mail，商讨建造大计。
听童话故事大全集3:老婆婆变身记
在中国的北方有座山，山很高很高很高。就在山的东面，有个村庄。这个村庄由山而起名叫‘东高山村’就在东高山村里有可数五十户人家。
在这五十户人家里有一位年龄最大老人叫‘翠花’，翠花到现在已经八十岁了，可身体还是那么硬朗，干起活来比那个小伙子还猛。翠花有个爱好那就是打扮自己，往年轻里打整。为这还花光她一辈子攒的积蓄，买了一套美国进口化妆品是什么‘德来美’把那脸蛋啊!擦得那个嫩那个白再加上头顶那俩根羊尾巴辫，我的天那，那美那漂亮仿拂就是位十八九大姑娘。翠花马上在东高山村便出名了成了名人。
都知道有这么一个老来俏。人们茶余饭后谈论。还有那些光棍老头子们每天都打扮很绅士，拿着花站在她家门口徘徊求婚。这可惹火了她儿子不得已他儿子只能每天拿棍子驱赶埋怨母亲说：“娘啊爹才死几年啊你看你，你瞧外边那群老头子每天像一群苍蝇似得在我们家门口娘啊你让我们怎么过日子”翠花会说：“儿啊!难道你不为你娘高兴自豪吗?随他们吧反正你娘我一个都看不上”“哎~娘啊”他儿子叹气道。又拿着棍子跑出门外。
翠花有个儿媳妇 ，这天赶上南高山村 闹庙会，婆媳俩结伴就去了。路上正好碰上他儿媳妇远房亲戚傻子二柱。傻子二柱碰见儿媳妇便打招呼叫道：“表姑奶奶玩来啦!”“奥!是二柱啊!二柱也来了”儿媳妇回应。可二柱一直看着身边翠花眼都直了还流着口水，也没听儿媳妇说话。二柱又说：“这姑娘是谁呀姑奶奶?”。儿媳妇明白二柱意思那气骂道：“去去去。你个傻兔崽子她是你表姑爷爷娘”什么。二柱瞪着俩眼一惊叫道：“你唬谁呢，你以为我眼瞎啊”
这时翠花说话了她低着头很自豪说：“我是她婆婆，她是我儿媳妇 ”
“奥!奥，我明白了。”二柱把嘴凑到儿媳妇耳边小声说：“表姑奶奶，她是不是我姑爷爷爹娶得小老婆”。儿媳妇听了那臊，心中骂道，今怎么这么倒霉碰上这傻王八蛋说：“我说二柱，你让姑奶奶说你什么好。我告诉你她就是我........。”儿媳妇没敢把婆婆俩字说出来，怕那傻二柱会有整出啥话来。
说不定二柱会说姑奶奶我姑爷爷他娘几岁生的我姑爷爷，那我怎么回答他。儿媳妇看看婆婆，婆婆真是那漂亮那美比自己至少年轻三十岁，让谁看了谁会相信我是她儿媳妇她是我婆婆。哎!都怪婆婆呀!老了老了臭个啥子什么美呀。这回好了人家把当大姑娘了!
篇10：畅销小说 童话故事集
Beatrix Potter 的兔子彼得丛书是一套有趣的童话故事集，内容丰富，语言浅显，是儿童和成人都喜欢阅读的书籍，也是常年被评为美国图书的上榜书藉。
The Original
Peter Rabbit Books
By BEATRIX POTTER
A LIST OF THE TITLES
[*indicates included here]
*The Tale of Peter Rabbit
The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin
The Tailor of Gloucester
*The Tale of Benjamin Bunny
*The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
*The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher
The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse
*The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck
*The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies
The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit
*The Tale of Two Bad Mice
The Tale of Tom Kitten
The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse
*The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes
*The Tale of Mr. Tod
*The Tale of Pigling Bland
*The Roly Poly Pudding
*The Pie and the Patty-pan
*Ginger and Pickles
*The Story of Miss Moppet
Appley Dapply's Nursery Rhymes
The Tale of Little Pig Robinson??
THE TALE OF
PETER RABBIT
BY
BEATRIX POTTER
ONCE upon a time there
were four little Rabbits,
and their names were--
Flopsy,
Mopsy,
Cotton-tail,
and Peter.
They lived with their Mother
in a sand-bank, underneath the
root of a very big fir tree.
”NOW, my dears,“ said old
Mrs. Rabbit one morning,
”you may go into the fields
or down the lane, but don't go
into Mr. McGregor's garden:
your Father had an accident
there; he was put in a pie by
Mrs. McGregor.“
”NOW run along, and don't
get into mischief. I am
going out.“
THEN old Mrs. Rabbit took
a basket and her umbrella,
to the baker's. She bought a
loaf of brown bread and five
currant buns.
FLOPSY, Mopsy, and
Cottontail, who were good
little bunnies, went down the
lane to gather blackberries;
BUT Peter, who was very
naughty, ran straight
away to Mr. McGregor's
garden and squeezed under
the gate!
FIRST he ate some lettuces
and some French beans;
and then he ate some radishes;
AND then, feeling rather
sick, he went to look for
some parsley.
BUT round the end of a
cucumber frame, whom
should he meet but Mr.
McGregor!
MR. McGREGOR was on
his hands and knees
planting out young cabbages,
but he jumped up and ran after
Peter, waving a rake and calling
out, ”Stop thief!“
PETER was most dreadfully
frightened; he rushed all
over the garden, for he had
forgotten the way back to the
gate.
He lost one of his shoes
among the cabbages, and the
other shoe amongst the potatoes.
AFTER losing them, he ran
on four legs and went
faster, so that I think he might
have got away altogether if he
had not unfortunately run into
a gooseberry net, and got
caught by the large buttons on
his jacket. It was a blue jacket
with brass buttons, quite new.
PETER gave himself up for
lost, and shed big tears;
but his sobs were overheard by
some friendly sparrows, who
flew to him in great excitement,
and implored him to
exert himself.
MR. McGREGOR came up
with a sieve, which he
intended to pop upon the top
of Peter; but Peter wriggled
out just in time, leaving his
jacket behind him.
AND rushed into the toolshed,
and jumped into a can.
It would have been a
beautiful thing to hide in, if it
had not had so much water in it.
MR. McGREGOR was
quite sure that Peter
was somewhere in the toolshed,
perhaps hidden underneath
a flower-pot. He began
to turn them over carefully,
looking under each.
Presently Peter sneezed--
”Kertyschoo!“ Mr. McGregor
was after him in no time,
AND tried to put his foot
upon Peter, who jumped
out of a window, upsetting
three plants. The window was
too small for Mr. McGregor,
and he was tired of running
after Peter. He went back to
his work.
PETER sat down to rest;
he was out of breath and
trembling with fright, and he
had not the least idea which
way to go. Also he was very
damp with sitting in that can.
After a time he began to
wander about, going lippity--
lippity--not very fast, and
looking all around.
HE found a door in a wall;
but it was locked, and
there was no room for a fat
little rabbit to squeeze
underneath.
An old mouse was running
in and out over the stone doorstep,
carrying peas and beans
to her family in the wood.
Peter asked her the way to the
gate, but she had such a large
pea in her mouth that she could
not answer. She only shook
her head at him. Peter began
to cry.
THEN he tried to find his
way straight across the
garden, but he became more
and more puzzled. Presently,
he came to a pond where Mr.
McGregor filled his water-cans.
A white cat was staring at
some gold-fish; she sat very,
very still, but now and then
the tip of her tail twitched as
if it were alive. Peter thought
it best to go away without
speaking to her; he had heard
about cats from his cousin,
little Benjamin Bunny.
HE went back towards the
tool-shed, but suddenly,
quite close to him, he heard
the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch,
scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter
scuttered underneath the
bushes. But presently, as
nothing happened, he came
out, and climbed upon a
wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The
first thing he saw was Mr.
McGregor hoeing onions. His
back was turned towards
Peter, and beyond him was
the gate!
PETER got down very
quietly off the wheelbarrow,
and started running
as fast as he could go, along
a straight walk behind some
black-currant bushes.
Mr. McGregor caught sight
of him at the corner, but Peter
did not care. He slipped underneath
the gate, and was safe at
last in the wood outside the
garden.
MR. McGREGOR hung up
the little jacket and the
shoes for a scare-crow to
frighten the blackbirds.
PETER never stopped running
or looked behind
him till he got home to the
big fir-tree.
He was so tired that he
flopped down upon the nice
soft sand on the floor of the
rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.
His mother was busy cooking;
she wondered what he had
done with his clothes. It was
the second little jacket and
pair of shoes that Peter had
lost in a fortnight!
I AM sorry to say that Peter
was not very well during
the evening.
His mother put him to bed,
and made some camomile tea;
and she gave a dose of it to
Peter!
”One table-spoonful to be
taken at bed-time.“
BUT Flopsy, Mopsy, and
Cotton-tail had bread
and milk and blackberries,
for supper.
THE END
THE TALE OF
BENJAMIN BUNNY
FOR THE CHILDREN OF SAWREY
FROM
OLD MR. BUNNY
ONE morning a little rabbit
sat on a bank.
He pricked his ears and
listened to the trit-trot,
trit-trot of a pony.
A gig was coming along the
road; it was driven by Mr.
McGregor, and beside him sat
Mrs. McGregor in her best
bonnet.
AS soon as they had passed,
little Benjamin Bunny
slid down into the road, and
set off--with a hop, skip and
a jump--to call upon his relations,
who lived in the wood at
the back of Mr. McGregor's
garden.
THAT wood was full of
rabbit holes; and in the
neatest sandiest hole of all,
cousins--Flopsy, Mopsy,
Cotton-tail and Peter.
Old Mrs. Rabbit was a
widow; she earned her living
by knitting rabbit-wool mittens
and muffetees (I once bought
a pair at a bazaar). She also
sold herbs, and rosemary tea,
and rabbit-tobacco (which is
what WE call lavender).
LITTLE Benjamin did not
very much want to see
his Aunt.
He came round the back of
the fir-tree, and nearly tumbled
upon the top of his Cousin
Peter.
PETER was sitting by himself.
He looked poorly,
and was dressed in a red cotton
pocket-handkerchief.
”Peter,“--said little Benjamin,
in a whisper--”who has
got your clothes?“
PETER replied--”The scarecrow
in Mr. McGregor's
garden,“ and described how he
had been chased about the
garden, and had dropped his
shoes and coat.
Little Benjamin sat down beside
his cousin, and assured him
that Mr. McGregor had gone
out in a gig, and Mrs. McGregor
also; and certainly for the day,
because she was wearing her
best bonnet.
PETER said he hoped that
it would rain.
At this point, old Mrs.
Rabbit's voice was heard inside
the rabbit hole calling--
”Cotton-tail! Cotton-tail!
fetch some more camomile!“
Peter said he thought he
might feel better if he went
for a walk.
THEY went away hand in
hand, and got upon the
flat top of the wall at the bottom
of the wood. From here they
looked down into Mr. McGregor's
garden. Peter's coat
and shoes were plainly to be
seen upon the scarecrow,
topped with an old tam-o-
shanter of Mr. McGregor's.
LITTLE Benjamin said,
”It spoils people's clothes
to squeeze under a gate; the
proper way to get in, is to
climb down a pear tree.“
Peter fell down head first;
but it was of no consequence,
as the bed below was newly
raked and quite soft.
IT had been sown with lettuces.
They left a great many odd
little foot-marks all over the
bed, especially little Benjamin,
who was wearing clogs.
LITTLE Benjamin said that
the first thing to be done
was to get back Peter's clothes,
in order that they might be
able to use the pocket handkerchief.
They took them off the scarecrow.
There had been rain
during the night; there was
water in the shoes, and the
coat was somewhat shrunk.
Benjamin tried on the tam-
o-shanter, but it was too big
for him.
THEN he suggested that
they should fill the pocket-
handkerchief with onions, as
a little present for his Aunt.
Peter did not seem to be
enjoying himself; he kept
hearing noises.
BENJAMIN, on the contrary,
was perfectly at
home, and ate a lettuce leaf.
He said that he was in the
habit of coming to the garden
with his father to get lettuces
for their Sunday dinner.
(The name of little Benjamin's
papa was old Mr. Benjamin
Bunny.)
The lettuces certainly were
very fine.
PETER did not eat anything;
he said he should
like to go home. Presently he
dropped half the onions.
LITTLE Benjamin said that
it was not possible to get
back up the pear-tree, with a
load of vegetables. He led
the way boldly towards the
other end of the garden. They
went along a little walk on
planks, under a sunny red-
brick wall.
The mice sat on their door-
steps cracking cherry-stones,
they winked at Peter Rabbit
and little Benjamin Bunny.
PRESENTLY Peter let the
pocket-handkerchief go
again.
THEY got amongst flower-
pots, and frames and
tubs; Peter heard noises worse
than ever, his eyes were as big
as lolly-pops!
He was a step or two in
front of his cousin, when he
suddenly stopped.
THIS is what those little
rabbits saw round that
corner!
Little Benjamin took one
look, and then, in half a minute
less than no time, he hid himself
and Peter and the onions
underneath a large basket. . . .
THE cat got up and stretched
herself, and came and
sniffed at the basket.
Perhaps she liked the smell
of onions!
Anyway, she sat down upon
the top of the basket.
SHE sat there for FIVE HOURS.
* * * * *
I cannot draw you a picture
of Peter and Benjamin underneath
the basket, because it
was quite dark, and because
the smell of onions was fearful;
it made Peter Rabbit and little
Benjamin cry.
The sun got round behind
the wood, and it was quite late
in the afternoon; but still the
cat sat upon the basket.
AT length there was a pitter-
patter, pitter-patter, and
some bits of mortar fell from
the wall above.
The cat looked up and saw
old Mr. Benjamin Bunny
prancing along the top of the
wall of the upper terrace.
He was smoking a pipe of
rabbit-tobacco, and had a little
switch in his hand.
He was looking for his son.
OLD Mr. Bunny had no
opinion whatever of cats.
He took a tremendous jump
off the top of the wall on to
the top of the cat, and cuffed
it off the basket, and kicked it
into the garden-house, scratching
off a handful of fur.
The cat was too much surprised
to scratch back.
WHEN old Mr. Bunny had
driven the cat into the
green-house, he locked the
door.
Then he came back to the
basket and took out his son
Benjamin by the ears, and
whipped him with the little
switch.
Then he took out his nephew
Peter.
THEN he took out the handkerchief
of onions, and
marched out of the garden.
When Mr. McGregor
returned about half an
hour later, he observed several
things which perplexed him.
It looked as though some
person had been walking all
over the garden in a pair of
clogs--only the foot-marks
were too ridiculously little!
Also he could not understand
how the cat could have
managed to shut herself up
INSIDE the green-house, locking
the door upon the OUTSIDE.
WHEN Peter got home,
his mother forgave him,
because she was so glad to see
that he had found his shoes
and coat. Cotton-tail and
Peter folded up the pocket-
handkerchief, and old Mrs.
rabbit strung up the onions
and hung them from the
kitchen ceiling, with the
rabbit-tobacco.
THE END
THE TALE OF
THE FLOPSY BUNNIES
FOR ALL LITTLE FRIENDS
OF
MR. McGREGOR & PETER & BENJAMIN
IT is said that the effect of
eating too much lettuce
is ”soporific.“
_I_ have never felt sleepy after
eating lettuces; but then _I_ am
not a rabbit.
They certainly had a very
soporific effect upon the Flopsy
Bunnies!
WHEN Benjamin Bunny
grew up, he married
his Cousin Flopsy. They had
a large family, and they were
very improvident and cheerful.
I do not remember the separate
names of their children;
they were generally called the
”Flopsy Bunnies.“
AS there was not always
quite enough to eat,--
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 this happened, 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 mixture.
There were jam pots and paper
bags, and mountains of chopped
grass from the mowing machine
(which always tasted oily), and
some rotten vegetable marrows
and an old boot or two. One
day--oh joy!--there were a
quantity of overgrown lettuces,
which had ”shot“ into flower.
THE Flopsy Bunnies simply
stuffed lettuces. By
degrees, one after another,
they were overcome with
slumber, and lay down in the
mown grass.
Benjamin was not so much
overcome as his children.
Before going to sleep he was
sufficiently wide awake to put
a paper bag over his head to
keep off the flies.
THE little Flopsy Bunnies
slept delightfully in the
warm sun. From the lawn
beyond the garden came the
distant clacketty sound of the
mowing machine. The blue-
bottles buzzed about the wall,
and a little old mouse picked
over the rubbish among the
jam pots.
(I can tell you her name, she
was called Thomasina Tittlemouse,
a woodmouse with a
long tail.)
SHE rustled across the paper
bag, and awakened Benjamin
Bunny.
The mouse apologized
profusely, and said that she knew
Peter Rabbit.
WHILE she and Benjamin
were talking, close under
the wall, they heard a heavy
tread above their heads; and
suddenly Mr. McGregor
emptied out a sackful of lawn
mowings right upon the top
of the sleeping Flopsy Bunnies!
Benjamin shrank down
under his paper bag. The
mouse hid in a jam pot.
THE little rabbits smiled
sweetly in their sleep
under the shower of grass;
they did not awake because
the lettuces had been so
soporific.
They dreamt that their
mother Flopsy was tucking
them up in a hay bed.
Mr. McGregor looked down
after emptying his sack. He
saw some funny little brown
tips of ears sticking up through
the lawn mowings. He stared
at them for some time.
PRESENTLY a fly settled
on one of them and it
moved.
Mr. McGregor climbed
down on to the rubbish heap--
”One, two, three, four! five!
six leetle rabbits!“ said he as
he dropped them into his sack.
The Flopsy Bunnies dreamt
that their mother was turning
them over in bed. They stirred
a little in their sleep, but still
they did not wake up.
MR. McGREGOR tied up
the sack and left it on
the wall.
He went to put away the
mowing machine.
WHILE he was gone, Mrs.
Flopsy Bunny (who
had remained at home) came
across the field.
She looked suspiciously at
the sack and wondered where
everybody was?
THEN the mouse came out
of her jam pot, and Benjamin
took the paper bag off
his head, and they told the
doleful tale.
Benjamin and Flopsy were
in despair, they could not
undo the string.
But Mrs. Tittlemouse was
a resourceful person. She
nibbled a hole in the bottom
corner of the sack.
THE little rabbits were
pulled out and pinched
to wake them.
Their parents stuffed the
empty sack with three rotten
vegetable marrows, an old
blacking-brush and two
decayed turnips.
THEN they all hid under
a bush and watched for
Mr. McGregor.
MR. McGREGOR came
back and picked up the
sack, and carried it off.
He carried it hanging down,
as if it were rather heavy.
The Flopsy Bunnies
followed at a safe distance.
THEY watched him go into
his house.
And then they crept up to
the window to listen.
MR. McGREGOR threw
down the sack on the
stone floor in a way that
would have been extremely
painful to the Flopsy Bunnies,
if they had happened to have
been inside it.
They could hear him drag
his chair on the flags, and
chuckle--
”One, two, three, four, five,
six leetle rabbits!“ said Mr.
McGregor.
”EH? What's that? What
have they been spoiling
now?“ enquired Mrs.
McGregor.
”One, two, three, four, five,
six leetle fat rabbits!“ repeated
Mr. McGregor, counting on
his fingers--”one, two, three--“
”Don't you be silly; what
do you mean, you silly old
man?“
”In the sack! one, two, three,
four, five, six!“ replied Mr.
McGregor.
(The youngest Flopsy Bunny
got upon the window-sill.)
MRS. McGREGOR took
hold of the sack and felt
it. She said she could feel
six, but they must be OLD
rabbits, because they were so
hard and all different shapes.
”Not fit to eat; but the
skins will do fine to line my
old cloak.“
”Line your old cloak?“
shouted Mr. McGregor--”I
shall sell them and buy myself
baccy!“
”Rabbit tobacco! I shall
skin them and cut off their
heads.“
MRS. McGREGOR untied
the sack and put her
hand inside.
When she felt the vegetables
she became very very angry.
She said that Mr. McGregor
had ”done it a purpose.“
AND Mr. McGregor was
very angry too. One of
the rotten marrows came flying
through the kitchen window,
and hit the youngest Flopsy
Bunny.
It was rather hurt.
THEN Benjamin and Flopsy
thought that it was time
to go home.
SO Mr. McGregor did not
get his tobacco, and Mrs.
McGregor did not get her
rabbit skins.
But next Christmas
Thomasina Tittlemouse got a
present of enough rabbit-wool
to make herself a cloak and a
hood, and a handsome muff
and a pair of warm mittens.
THE END
IN REMEMBRANCE OF
”SAMMY,“
THE INTELLIGENT PINK-EYED REPRESENTATIVE
OF
A PERSECUTED (BUT IRREPRESSIBLE) RACE.
AN AFFECTIONATE LITTLE FRIEND.
AND MOST ACCOMPLISHED
THIEF!
THE ROLY-POLY PUDDING
ONCE upon a time there was an old
cat, called Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit,
who was an anxious parent. She used to
lose her kittens continually, and whenever
they were lost they were always in mischief!
On baking day she determined to shut
them up in a cupboard.
She caught Moppet and Mittens, but she
could not find Tom.
Mrs. Tabitha went up and down all over
the house, mewing for Tom Kitten. She
looked in the pantry under the staircase,
and she searched the best spare bedroom
that was all covered up with dust sheets.
She went right upstairs and looked into the
attics, but she could not find him anywhere.
It was an old, old house, full of
cupboards and passages. Some of the walls
were four feet thick, and there used to be
queer noises inside them, as if there might
be a little secret staircase. Certainly there
were odd little jagged doorways in the
wainscot, and things disappeared at night--
especially cheese and bacon.
Mrs. Tabitha became more and more
distracted, and mewed dreadfully
While their mother was searching the
house, Moppet and Mittens had got into
mischief.
The cupboard door was not locked, so
they pushed it open and came out.
They went straight to the dough which
was set to rise in a pan before the fire.
They patted it with their little soft paws
--”Shall we make dear little muffins?“ said
Mittens to Moppet
But just at that moment somebody
knocked at the front door, and Moppet
jumped into the flour barrel in a fright
Mittens ran away to the dairy, and hid
in an empty jar on the stone shelf where
the milk pans stand.
The visitor was a neighbor, Mrs. Ribby;
she had called to borrow some yeast.
Mrs. Tabitha came downstairs mewing
dreadfully--”Come in, Cousin Ribby, come
in, and sit ye down! I'm in sad trouble,
Cousin Ribby,“ said Tabitha, shedding
tears. ”I've lost my dear son Thomas; I'm
afraid the rats have got him.“ She wiped
her eyes with an apron.
”He's a bad kitten, Cousin Tabitha; he
made a cat's cradle of my best bonnet last
time I came to tea. Where have you looked
for him?“
”All over the house! The rats are too
many for me. What a thing it is to have an
unruly family!“ said Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit.
”I'm not afraid of rats; I will help you
to find him; and whip him too! What is
all that soot in the fender?“
”The chimney wants sweeping--Oh, dear
me, Cousin Ribby--now Moppet and Mittens
are gone!“
”They have both got out of the cup-
board!“
Ribby and Tabitha set to work to search
the house thoroughly again. They poked
under the beds with Ribby's umbrella, and
they rummaged in cupboards. They even
fetched a candle, and looked inside a clothes
chest in one of the attics. They could not
find anything, but once they heard a door
bang and somebody scuttered downstairs.
”Yes, it is infested with rats,“ said
Tabitha tearfully, ”I caught seven young
ones out of one hole in the back kitchen,
and we had them for dinner last Saturday.
And once I saw the old father rat--an
enormous old rat, Cousin Ribby. I was
just going to jump upon him, when he
showed his yellow teeth at me and whisked
down the hole.“
”The rats get upon my nerves, Cousin
Ribby,“ said Tabitha.
Ribby and Tabitha searched and searched.
They both heard a curious roly-poly noise
under the attic floor. But there was nothing
to be seen.
They returned to the kitchen. ”Here's
one of your kittens at least,“ said Ribby,
dragging Moppet out of the flour barrel.
They shook the flour off her and set her
down on the kitchen floor. She seemed to
be in a terrible fright.
”Oh! Mother, Mother,“ said Moppet,
”there's been an old woman rat in the
kitchen, and she's stolen some of the
dough!“
The two cats ran to look at the dough
pan. Sure enough there were marks of
little scratching fingers, and a lump of
dough was gone!
”Which way did she go, Moppet?“
But Moppet had been too much frightened
to peep out of the barrel again.
Ribby and Tabitha took her with them
to keep her safely in sight, while they went
on with their search.
They went into the dairy.
The first thing they found was Mittens,
hiding in an empty jar
They tipped up the jar, and she scrambled
out.
”Oh, Mother, Mother!“ said Mittens--
”Oh! Mother, Mother, there has been an
old man rat in the dairy--a dreadful 'normous
big rat, Mother; and he's stolen a pat
of butter and the rolling-pin.“
Ribby and Tabitha looked at one another.
”A rolling-pin and butter! Oh, my poor
son Thomas!“ exclaimed Tabitha, wringing
her paws.
”A rolling-pin?“ said Ribby. ”Did we
not hear a roly-poly noise in the attic when
we were looking into that chest?“
Ribby and Tabitha rushed upstairs again.
Sure enough the roly-poly noise was still
going on quite distinctly under the attic
floor
”This is serious, Cousin Tabitha,“ said
Ribby. ”We must send for John Joiner at
once, with a saw.“
Now this is what had been happening to
Tom Kitten, and it shows how very unwise
it is to go up a chimney in a very old house,
where a person does not know his way, and
where there are enormous rats.
Tom Kitten did not want to be shut up
in a cupboard. When he saw that his
mother was going to bake, he determined
to hide.
He looked about for a nice convenient
place, and he fixed upon the chimney.
The fire had only just been lighted, and
it was not hot; but there was a white choky
smoke from the green sticks. Tom Kitten
got upon the fender and looked up. It was
a big old-fashioned fireplace.
The chimney itself was wide enough inside
for a man to stand up and walk about.
So there was plenty of room for a little
Tom Cat
He jumped right up into the fireplace,
balancing himself upon the iron bar where
the kettle hangs.
Tom Kitten took another big jump off
the bar, and landed on a ledge high up
inside the chimney, knocking down some
soot into the fender.
Tom Kitten coughed and choked with the
smoke; he could hear the sticks beginning
to crackle and burn in the fireplace down
below. He made up his mind to climb right
to the top, and get out on the slates, and
try to catch sparrows.
”I cannot go back. If I slipped I might
fall in the fire and singe my beautiful tail
and my little blue jacket.“
The chimney was a very big old-fashioned
one. It was built in the days when
people burnt logs of wood upon the hearth.
The chimney stack stood up above the
roof like a little stone tower, and the daylight
shone down from the top, under the
slanting slates that kept out the rain.
Tom Kitten was getting very frightened!
He climbed up, and up, and up
Then he waded sideways through inches
of soot. He was like a little sweep himself.
It was most confusing in the dark. One
flue seemed to lead into another.
There was less smoke, but Tom Kitten
felt quite lost.
He scrambled up and up; but before he
reached the chimney top he came to a place
where somebody had loosened a stone in
the wall. There were some mutton bones
lying about--
”This seems funny,“ said Tom Kitten.
”Who has been gnawing bones up here in
the chimney? I wish I had never come!
And what a funny smell! It is something
like mouse; only dreadfully strong. It
makes me sneeze,“ said Tom Kitten.
He squeezed through the hole in the wall,
and dragged himself along a most uncomfortably
tight passage where there was
scarcely any light.
He groped his way carefully for several
yards; he was at the back of the skirting-
board in the attic, where there is a little
mark * in the picture.
All at once he fell head over heels in the
dark, down a hole, and landed on a heap of
very dirty rags.
When Tom Kitten picked himself up and
looked about him--he found himself in a
place that he had never seen before, although
he had lived all his life in the house.
It was a very small stuffy fusty room,
with boards, and rafters, and cobwebs, and
lath and plaster.
Opposite to him--as far away as he could
sit--was an enormous rat.
”What do you mean by tumbling into
my bed all covered with smuts?“ said the
rat, chattering his teeth.
”Please sir, the chimney wants sweeping,“
said poor Tom Kitten.
”Anna Maria! Anna Maria!“ squeaked
the rat. There was a pattering noise and
an old woman rat poked her head round a
rafter.
All in a minute she rushed upon Tom
Kitten, and before he knew what was happening--
His coat was pulled off, and he was rolled
up in a bundle, and tied with string in very
hard knots.
Anna Maria did the tying. The old rat
watched her and took snuff. When she had
finished, they both sat staring at him with
their mouths open.
”Anna Maria,“ said the old man rat
(whose name was Samuel Whiskers),--
”Anna Maria, make me a kitten dumpling
roly-poly pudding for my dinner.“
”It requires dough and a pat of butter,
and a rolling-pin,“ said Anna Maria,
considering Tom Kitten with her head on one
side.
”No,“ said Samuel Whiskers, ”make it
properly, Anna Maria, with breadcrumbs.“
Nonsense! Butter and dough,” replied
Anna Maria.
The two rats consulted together for a
few minutes and then went away.
Samuel Whiskers got through a hole in
the wainscot, and went boldly down the
front staircase to the dairy to get the
butter. He did not meet anybody.
He made a second journey for the rolling-
pin. He pushed it in front of him with
his paws, like a brewer's man trundling a
barrel.
He could hear Ribby and Tabitha talking,
but they were busy lighting the candle to
look into the chest.
They did not see him.
Anna Maria went down by way of the
skirting-board and a window shutter to the
kitchen to steal the dough.
She borrowed a small saucer, and scooped
up the dough with her paws.
She did not observe Moppet.
While Tom Kitten was left alone under
the floor of the attic, he wriggled about and
tried to mew for help.
But his mouth was full of soot and cob-
webs, and he was tied up in such very tight
knots, he could not make anybody hear him.
Except a spider, which came out of a
crack in the ceiling and examined the knots
critically, from a safe distance.
It was a judge of knots because it had a
habit of tying up unfortunate blue-bottles.
It did not offer to assist him.
Tom Kitten wriggled and squirmed until
he was quite exhausted.
Presently the rats came back and set to
work to make him into a dumpling. First
they smeared him with butter, and then they
rolled him in the dough.
“Will not the string be very indigestible,
Anna Maria?” inquired Samuel Whiskers.
Anna Maria said she thought that it was
of no consequence; but she wished that Tom
Kitten would hold his head still, as it
disarranged the pastry. She laid hold of his
ears.
Tom Kitten bit and spat, and mewed and
wriggled; and the rolling-pin went roly-
poly, roly; roly, poly, roly. The rats each
held an end.
“His tail is sticking out! You did not
fetch enough dough, Anna Maria.”
“I fetched as much as I could carry,”
replied Anna Maria.
“I do not think”--said Samuel Whiskers,
pausing to take a look at Tom Kitten--“I
do NOT think it will be a good pudding. It
smells sooty.”
Anna Maria was about to argue the point,
when all at once there began to be other
sounds up above--the rasping noise of a
saw; and the noise of a little dog, scratching
and yelping!
The rats dropped the rolling-pin, and
listened attentively.
“We are discovered and interrupted,
Anna Maria; let us collect our property,--
and other people's,--and depart at once.”
“I fear that we shall be obliged to leave
this pudding.”
“But I am persuaded that the knots would
have proved indigestible, whatever you may
urge to the contrary.”
“Come away at once and help me to tie up
some mutton bones in a counterpane,” said
Anna Maria. “I have got half a smoked
ham hidden in the chimney.”
So it happened that by the time John
Joiner had got the plank up--there was nobody
under the floor except the rolling-pin
and Tom Kitten in a very dirty dumpling!
But there was a strong smell of rats; and
John Joiner spent the rest of the morning
sniffing and whining, and wagging his tail,
and going round and round with his head in
the hole like a gimlet.
Then he nailed the plank down again, and
put his tools in his bag, and came downstairs.
The cat family had quite recovered. They
invited him to stay to dinner.
The dumpling had been peeled off Tom
Kitten, and made separately into a bag pudding,
with currants in it to hide the smuts.
They had been obliged to put Tom Kitten
into a hot bath to get the butter off.
John Joiner smelt the pudding; but he
regretted that he had not time to stay to
dinner, because he had just finished making
a wheel-barrow for Miss Potter, and she
had ordered two hen-coops.
And when I was going to the post late in
the afternoon--I looked up the lane from
the corner, and I saw Mr. Samuel Whiskers
and his wife on the run, with big bundles
on a little wheel-barrow, which looked very
like mine.
They were just turning in at the gate to
the barn of Farmer Potatoes.
Samuel Whiskers was puffing and out of
breath. Anna Maria was still arguing in
shrill tones.
She seemed to know her way, and she
seemed to have a quantity of luggage.
I am sure _I_ never gave her leave to borrow
my wheel-barrow!
They went into the barn, arid hauled
their parcels with a bit of string to the top
of the haymow.
After that, there were no more rats for
a long time at Tabitha Twitchit's.
As for Farmer Potatoes, he has been
driven nearly distracted. There are rats,
and rats, and rats in his barn! They eat
up the chicken food, and steal the oats and
bran, and make holes in the meal bags.
And they are all descended from Mr.
and Mrs. Samuel Whiskers--children and
grand-children and great great grand-children.
There is no end to them!
Moppet and Mittens have grown up into
very good rat-catchers.
They go out rat-catching in the village,
and they find plenty of employment. They
charge so much a dozen, and earn their
living very comfortably.
They hang up the rats' tails in a row or
the barn door, to show how many they have
caught--dozens and dozens of them.
But Tom Kitten has always been afraid
of a rat; he never durst face anything that
is bigger than--
A Mouse.
THE END
THE TALE OF MR TOD
I HAVE made many books about
well-behaved people. Now, for
a change, I am going to make a
story about two disagreeable people,
called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.
Nobody could call Mr. Tod “nice.”
The rabbits could not bear him;
they could smell him half a mile off.
He was of a wandering habit and
he had foxey whiskers; they never
knew where he would be next.
One day he was living in a stick-
house in the coppice, causing terror
to the family of old Mr. Benjamin
Bouncer. Next day he moved into
a pollard willow near the lake,
frightening the wild ducks and the
water rats.
In winter and early spring he
might generally be found in an earth
amongst the rocks at the top of Bull
Banks, under Oatmeal Crag.
He had half a dozen houses, but
he was seldom at home.
The houses were not always empty
when Mr. Tod moved OUT; because
sometimes Tommy Brock moved
IN; (without asking leave).
Tommy Brock was a short bristly
fat waddling person with a grin; he
grinned all over his face. He was
not nice in his habits. He ate wasp
nests and frogs and worms; and he
waddled about by moonlight, digging
things up.
His clothes were very dirty; and
as he slept in the day-time, he always
went to bed in his boots. And the
bed which he went to bed in, was
generally Mr. Tod's.
Now Tommy Brock did occasionally
eat rabbit-pie; but it was only
very little young ones occasionally,
when other food was really scarce.
He was friendly with old Mr.
Bouncer; they agreed in disliking
the wicked otters and Mr. Tod; they
often talked over that painful subject.
Old Mr. Bouncer was stricken in
years. He sat in the spring sunshine
outside the burrow, in a muffler;
smoking a pipe of rabbit tobacco.
He lived with his son Benjamin
Bunny and his daughter-in-law
Flopsy, who had a young family.
Old Mr. Bouncer was in charge of
the family that afternoon, because
Benjamin and Flopsy had gone out.
The little rabbit-babies were just old
enough to open their blue eyes and
kick. They lay in a fluffy bed of
rabbit wool and hay, in a shallow
burrow, separate from the main
rabbit hole. To tell the truth--old
Mr. Bouncer had forgotten them.
He sat in the sun, and conversed
cordially with Tommy Brock, who
was passing through the wood with
a sack and a little spud which he used
for digging, and some mole traps.
He complained bitterly about the
scarcity of pheasants' eggs, and
accused Mr. Tod of poaching
them. And the otters had cleared
off all the frogs while he was asleep
in winter--“I have not had a good
square meal for a fortnight, I am
living on pig-nuts. I shall have to
turn vegetarian and eat my own
tail!” said Tommy Brock.
It was not much of a joke, but it
tickled old Mr. Bouncer; because
Tommy Brock was so fat and
stumpy and grinning.
So old Mr. Bouncer laughed; and
pressed Tommy Brock to come inside,
to taste a slice of seed-cake and
“a glass of my daughter Flopsy's
cowslip wine.” Tommy Brock
squeezed himself into the rabbit
hole with alacrity.
Then old Mr. Bouncer smoked
another pipe, and gave Tommy
Brock a cabbage leaf cigar which was
so very strong that it made Tommy
Brock grin more than ever; and the
smoke filled the burrow. Old Mr.
Bouncer coughed and laughed; and
Tommy Brock puffed and grinned.
And Mr. Bouncer laughed and
coughed, and shut his eyes because
of the cabbage smoke . . . . . . . . . .
When Flopsy and Benjamin came
back--old Mr. Bouncer woke up.
Tommy Brock and all the young
rabbit-babies had disappeared!
Mr. Bouncer would not confess
that he had admitted anybody into
the rabbit hole. But the smell of
badger was undeniable; and there
were round heavy footmarks in the
sand. He was in disgrace; Flopsy
wrung her ears, and slapped him.
Benjamin Bunny set off at once
after Tommy Brock.
There was not much difficulty in
tracking him; he had left his foot-
mark and gone slowly up the winding
footpath through the wood.
Here he had rooted up the moss
and wood sorrel. There he had dug
quite a deep hole for dog darnel;
and had set a mole trap. A little
stream crossed the way. Benjamin
skipped lightly over dry-foot; the
badger's heavy steps showed plainly
in the mud.
The path led to a part of the thicket
where the trees had been cleared;
there were leafy oak stumps, and
a sea of blue hyacinths--but the
smell that made Benjamin stop, was
not the smell of flowers!
Mr. Tod's stick house was before
him and, for once, Mr. Tod was at
home. There was not only a foxey
flavour in proof of it--there was
smoke coming out of the broken
pail that served as a chimney.
Benjamin Bunny sat up, staring;
his whiskers twitched. Inside the
stick house somebody dropped a
plate, and said something. Benjamin
stamped his foot, and bolted.
He never stopped till he came to
the other side of the wood. Apparently
Tommy Brock had turned
the same way. Upon the top of the
wall, there were again the marks of
badger; and some ravellings of a
sack had caught on a briar.
Benjamin climbed over the wall,
into a meadow. He found another
mole trap newly set; he was still
upon the track of Tommy Brock.
It was getting late in the afternoon.
Other rabbits were coming out to
enjoy the evening air. One of them
in a blue coat by himself, was busily
hunting for dandelions.--“Cousin
Peter! Peter Rabbit, Peter Rabbit!”
shouted Benjamin Bunny.
The blue coated rabbit sat up
with pricked ears--
“Whatever is the matter, Cousin
Benjamin? Is it a cat? or John
Stoat Ferret?”
“No, no, no! He's bagged my
family--Tommy Brock--in a sack
--have you seen him?”
“Tommy Brock? how many,
Cousin Benjamin?”
“Seven, Cousin Peter, and all of
them twins! Did he come this
way? Please tell me quick!”
“Yes, yes; not ten minutes since
. . . . he said they were caterpillars;
I did think they were kicking rather
hard, for caterpillars.”
“Which way? which way has he
gone, Cousin Peter?”
“He had a sack with something
'live in it; I watched him set a
mole trap. Let me use my mind,
Cousin Benjamin; tell me from the
beginning.” Benjamin did so.
“My Uncle Bouncer has displayed
a lamentable want of discretion for
his years;” said Peter reflectively,
“but there are two hopeful
circumstances. Your family is alive and
kicking; and Tommy Brock has
had refreshment. He will probably
go to sleep, and keep them
for breakfast.” “Which way?”
“Cousin Benjamin, compose
yourself. I know very well which way.
Because Mr. Tod was at home in
the stick-house he has gone to
Mr. Tod's other house, at the top
of Bull Banks. I partly know,
because he offered to leave any
message at Sister Cottontail's; he
said he would be passing.” (Cottontail
had married a black rabbit, and
gone to live on the hill).
Peter hid his dandelions, and
accompanied the afflicted parent, who
was all of a twitter. They crossed
several fields and began to climb the
hill; the tracks of Tommy Brock
were plainly to be seen. He seemed
to have put down the sack every
dozen yards, to rest.
“He must be very puffed; we
are close behind him, by the scent
What a nasty person!” said Peter.
The sunshine was still warm and
slanting on the hill pastures. Half
way up, Cottontail was sitting in
her doorway, with four or five half-
grown little rabbits playing about
her; one black and the others brown.
Cottontail had seen Tommy Brock
passing in the distance. Asked
whether her husband was at home
she replied that Tommy Brock had
rested twice while she watched him.
He had nodded, and pointed to the
sack, and seemed doubled up with
laughing.--“Come away, Peter;
he will be cooking them; come
quicker!” said Benjamin Bunny.
They climbed up and up;--“He
was at home; I saw his black ears
peeping out of the hole.” “They
live too near the rocks to quarrel
with their neighbours. Come on
Cousin Benjamin!”
When they came near the wood
at the top of Bull Banks, they went
cautiously. The trees grew amongst
heaped up rocks; and there, beneath
a crag--Mr. Tod had made one of
his homes. It was at the top of a
steep bank; the rocks and bushes
overhung it. The rabbits crept up
carefully, listening and peeping.
This house was something
between a cave, a prison, and a tumble-
down pig-stye. There was a strong
door, which was shut and locked.
The setting sun made the window
panes glow like red flame; but the
kitchen fire was not alight. It was
neatly laid with dry sticks, as the
rabbits could see, when they peeped
through the window.
Benjamin sighed with relief.
But there were preparations upon
the kitchen table which made him
shudder. There was an immense
empty pie-dish of blue willow pattern,
and a large carving knife and
fork, and a chopper.
At the other end of the table was
a partly unfolded tablecloth, a plate,
a tumbler, a knife and fork, salt-
cellar, mustard and a chair--in short,
preparations for one person's supper.
No person was to be seen, and
no young rabbits. The kitchen was
empty and silent; the clock had run
down. Peter and Benjamin flattened
their noses against the window, and
stared into the dusk.
Then they scrambled round the
rocks to the other side of the house.
It was damp and smelly, and over-
grown with thorns and briars.
The rabbits shivered in their shoes.
“Oh my poor rabbit babies! What
a dreadful place; I shall never see
them again!” sighed Benjamin.
They crept up to the bedroom
window. It was closed and bolted
like the kitchen. But there were
signs that this window had been
recently open; the cobwebs were
disturbed, and there were fresh dirty
footmarks upon the window-sill.
The room inside was so dark,
that at first they could make out
nothing; but they could hear a noise
--a slow deep regular snoring grunt.
And as their eyes became accustomed
to the darkness, they perceived
that somebody was asleep
on Mr. Tod's bed, curled up under
the blanket.--“He has gone to bed
in his boots,” whispered Peter.
Benjamin, who was all of a twitter,
pulled Peter off the window-sill.
Tommy Brock's snores continued,
grunty and regular from Mr. Tod's
bed. Nothing could be seen of the
young family.
The sun had set; an owl began
to hoot in the wood. There were
many unpleasant things lying about,
that had much better have been
buried; rabbit bones and skulls, and
chickens' legs and other horrors. It
was a shocking place, and very dark.
They went back to the front of
the house, and tried in every way
to move the bolt of the kitchen
window. They tried to push up a
rusty nail between the window
sashes; but it was of no use,
especially without a light.
They sat side by side outside the
window, whispering and listening.
In half an hour the moon rose
over the wood. It shone full and
clear and cold, upon the house
amongst the rocks, and in at the
kitchen window. But alas, no little
rabbit babies were to be seen!
The moonbeams twinkled on the
carving knife and the pie dish, and
made a path of brightness across
the dirty floor.
The light showed a little door in
a wall beside the kitchen fireplace--
a little iron door belonging to a
brick oven, of that old-fashioned
sort that used to be heated with
faggots of wood.
And presently at the same moment
Peter and Benjamin noticed that
whenever they shook the window--
the little door opposite shook in
answer. The young family were
alive; shut up in the oven!
Benjamin was so excited that it
was a mercy he did not awake
Tommy Brock, whose snores
continued solemnly in Mr. Tod's bed.
But there really was not very much
comfort in the discovery. They could
not open the window; and although
the young family was alive--the little
rabbits were quite incapable of letting
themselves out; they were not
old enough to crawl.
After much whispering, Peter and
Benjamin decided to dig a tunnel.
They began to burrow a yard or two
lower down the bank. They hoped
that they might be able to work
between the large stones under the
house; the kitchen floor was so dirty
that it was impossible to say whether
it was made of earth or flags.
They dug and dug for hours.
They could not tunnel straight on
account of stones; but by the end
of the night they were under the
kitchen floor. Benjamin was on his
back, scratching upwards. Peter's
claws were worn down; he was
outside the tunnel, shuffling sand
away. He called out that it was
morning--sunrise; and that the
jays were making a noise down
below in the woods.
Benjamin Bunny came out of the
dark tunnel, shaking the sand from
his ears; he cleaned his face with
his paws. Every minute the sun
shone warmer on the top of the hill.
In the valley there was a sea of
white mist, with golden tops of
trees showing through.
Again from the fields down below
in the mist there came the angry
cry of a jay-followed by the sharp
yelping bark of a fox!
Then those two rabbits lost their
heads completely. They did the
most foolish thing that they could
have done. They rushed into their
short new tunnel, and hid themselves
at the top end of it, under
Mr. Tod's kitchen floor.
Mr. Tod was coming up Bull
Banks, and he was in the very worst
of tempers. First he had been upset
by breaking the plate. It was
his own fault; but it was a china
plate, the last of the dinner service
that had belonged to his grandmother,
old Vixen Tod. Then the
midges had been very bad. And he
had failed to catch a hen pheasant on
her nest; and it had contained only
five eggs, two of them addled. Mr.
Tod had had an unsatisfactory night.
As usual, when out of humour,
he determined to move house. First
he tried the pollard willow, but it
was damp; and the otters had left
a dead fish near it. Mr. Tod likes
nobody's leavings but his own.
He made his way up the hill; his
temper was not improved by noticing
unmistakable marks of badger.
No one else grubs up the moss so
wantonly as Tommy Brock.
Mr. Tod slapped his stick upon
the earth and fumed; he guessed
where Tommy Brock had gone to.
He was further annoyed by the jay
bird which followed him persistently.
It flew from tree to tree and scolded,
warning every rabbit within hearing
that either a cat or a fox was coming
up the plantation. Once when it
flew screaming over his head--
Mr. Tod snapped at it, and barked.
He approached his house very
carefully, with a large rusty key.
He sniffed and his whiskers bristled.
The house was locked up, but Mr.
Tod had his doubts whether it was
empty. He turned the rusty key in
the lock; the rabbits below could
hear it. Mr. Tod opened the door
cautiously and went in.
The sight that met Mr. Tod's eyes
in Mr. Tod's kitchen made Mr. Tod
furious. There was Mr. Tod's chair,
and Mr. Tod's pie dish, and his knife
and fork and mustard and salt cellar
and his table-cloth that he had left
folded up in the dresser--all set out
for supper (or breakfast)--without
doubt for that odious Tommy Brock
There was a smell of fresh earth
and dirty badger, which fortunately
overpowered all smell of rabbit.
But what absorbed Mr. Tod's
attention was a noise--a deep slow
regular snoring grunting noise,
coming from his own bed.
He peeped through the hinges of
the half-open bedroom door. Then
he turned and came out of the
house in a hurry. His whiskers
bristled and his coat-collar stood on
end with rage.
For the next twenty minutes
Mr. Tod kept creeping cautiously
into the house, and retreating
hurriedly out again. By degrees he
ventured further in--right into the
bedroom. When he was outside the
house, he scratched up the earth with
fury. But when he was inside--he
did not like the look of Tommy
Brock's teeth.
He was lying on his back with
his mouth open, grinning from ear
to ear. He snored peacefully and
regularly; but one eye was not
perfectly shut.
Mr. Tod came in and out of the
bedroom. Twice he brought in his
walking-stick, and once he brought
in the coal-scuttle. But he thought
better of it, and took them away.
When he came back after removing
the coal-scuttle, Tommy Brock
was lying a little more sideways;
but he seemed even sounder asleep.
He was an incurably indolent person;
he was not in the least afraid
of Mr. Tod; he was simply too lazy
and comfortable to move.
Mr. Tod came back yet again into
the bedroom with a clothes line. He
stood a minute watching Tommy
Brock and listening attentively to
the snores. They were very loud
indeed, but seemed quite natural.
Mr. Tod turned his back towards
the bed, and undid the window.
It creaked; he turned round with
a jump. Tommy Brock, who had
opened one eye--shut it hastily.
The snores continued.
Mr. Tod's proceedings were peculiar,
and rather uneasy, (because the
bed was between the window and
the door of the bedroom). He opened
the window a little way, and pushed
out the greater part of the clothes
line on to the window sill. The rest
of the line, with a hook at the end,
remained in his hand.
Tommy Brock snored conscientiously.
Mr. Tod stood and looked
at him for a minute; then he left
the room again.
Tommy Brock opened both eyes,
and looked at the rope and grinned.
There was a noise outside the
window. Tommy Brock shut his
eyes in a hurry.
Mr. Tod had gone out at the front
door, and round to the back of the
house. On the way, he stumbled
over the rabbit burrow. If he had
had any idea who was inside it, he
would have pulled them out quickly.
His foot went through the tunnel
nearly upon the top of Peter Rabbit
and Benjamin, but fortunately he
thought that it was some more of
Tommy Brock's work.
He took up the coil of line from
the sill, listened for a moment, and
then tied the rope to a tree.
Tommy Brock watched him with
one eye, through the window. He
was puzzled.
Mr. Tod fetched a large heavy
pailful of water from the spring,
and staggered with it through the
kitchen into his bedroom.
Tommy Brock snored industriously,
with rather a snort.
Mr. Tod put down the pail beside
the bed, took up the end of rope
with the hook--hesitated, and
looked at Tommy Brock. The
snores were almost apoplectic; but
the grin was not quite so big.
Mr. Tod gingerly mounted a chair
by the head of the bedstead. His
legs were dangerously near to
Tommy Brock's teeth.
He reached up and put the end
of rope, with the hook, over the
head of the tester bed, where the
curtains ought to hang.
(Mr. Tod's curtains were folded
up, and put away, owing to the
house being unoccupied. So was
the counterpane. Tommy Brock
was covered with a blanket only.)
Mr. Tod standing on the unsteady
chair looked down upon him
attentively; he really was a first prize
sound sleeper!
It seemed as though nothing
would waken him--not even the
flapping rope across the bed.
Mr. Tod descended safely from
the chair, and endeavoured to get
up again with the pail of water.
He intended to hang it from the
hook, dangling over the head of
Tommy Brock, in order to make
a sort of shower-bath, worked by a
string, through the window.
But naturally being a thin-legged
person (though vindictive and sandy
whiskered)--he was quite unable to
lift the heavy weight to the level of
the hook and rope. He very nearly
overbalanced himself.
The snores became more and
more apoplectic. One of Tommy
Brock's hind legs twitched under
the blanket, but still he slept on
peacefully.
Mr. Tod and the pail descended
from the chair without accident.
After considerable thought, he
emptied the water into a wash-basin
and jug. The empty pail was not
too heavy for him; he slung it up
wobbling over the head of Tommy
Brock.
Surely there never was such a
sleeper! Mr. Tod got up and down,
down and up on the chair.
As he could not lift the whole
pailful of water at once, he fetched
a milk jug, and ladled quarts of
water into the pail by degrees. The
pail got fuller and fuller, and swung
like a pendulum. Occasionally a
drop splashed over; but still Tommy
Brock snored regularly and never
moved,--except one eye.
At last Mr. Tod's preparations
were complete. The pail was full
of water; the rope was tightly
strained over the top of the bed,
and across the window sill to the
tree outside.
“It will make a great mess in
my bedroom; but I could never
sleep in that bed again without a
spring cleaning of some sort,” said
Mr. Tod.
Mr. Tod took a last look at the
badger and softly left the room. He
went out of the house, shutting the
front door. The rabbits heard his
footsteps over the tunnel.
He ran round behind the house,
intending to undo the rope in order
to let fall the pailful of water upon
Tommy Brock--
“I will wake him up with an
unpleasant surprise,” said Mr. Tod.
The moment he had gone, Tommy
Brock got up in a hurry; he rolled
Mr. Tod's dressing-gown into a
bundle, put it into the bed beneath
the pail of water instead of himself,
and left the room also--grinning
immensely.
He went into the kitchen, lighted
the fire and boiled the kettle; for
the moment he did not trouble himself
to cook the baby rabbits.
When Mr. Tod got to the tree,
he found that the weight and strain
had dragged the knot so tight that
it was past untying. He was
obliged to gnaw it with his teeth.
He chewed and gnawed for more
than twenty minutes. At last the
rope gave way with such a sudden
jerk that it nearly pulled his teeth
out, and quite knocked him over
backwards.
Inside the house there was a great
crash and splash, and the noise of
a pail rolling over and over.
But no screams. Mr. Tod was
mystified; he sat quite still, and
listened attentively. Then he
peeped in at the window. The
water was dripping from the bed,
the pail had rolled into a corner.
In the middle of the bed under
the blanket, was a wet flattened
SOMETHING--much dinged in, in the
middle where the pail had caught it
(as it were across the tummy). Its
head was covered by the wet blanket
and it was NOT SNORING ANY LONGER.
There was nothing stirring, and
no sound except the drip, drop,
drop drip of water trickling from
the mattress.
Mr. Tod watched it for half an
hour; his eyes glistened.
Then he cut a caper, and became
so bold that he even tapped at
the window; but the bundle never
moved.
Yes--there was no doubt about
it--it had turned out even better
than he had planned; the pail had
hit poor old Tommy Brock, and
killed him dead!
“I will bury that nasty person in
the hole which he has dug. I will
bring my bedding out, and dry it in
the sun,” said Mr. Tod.
“I will wash the tablecloth and
spread it on the grass in the sun to
bleach. And the blanket must be
hung up in the wind; and the bed
must be thoroughly disinfected, and
aired with a warming-pan; and
warmed with a hot-water bottle.”
“I will get soft soap, and monkey
soap, and all sorts of soap; and
soda and scrubbing brushes; and
persian powder; and carbolic to
remove the smell. I must have a
disinfecting. Perhaps I may have
to burn sulphur.”
He hurried round the house to
get a shovel from the kitchen--
“First I will arrange the hole--
then I will drag out that person in
the blanket . . .”
He opened the door. . . .
Tommy Brock was sitting at Mr.
Tod's kitchen table, pouring out
tea from Mr. Tod's tea-pot into
Mr. Tod's tea-cup. He was quite
dry himself and grinning; and he
threw the cup of scalding tea all
over Mr. Tod.
Then Mr. Tod rushed upon
Tommy Brock, and Tommy Brock
grappled with Mr. Tod amongst
the broken crockery, and there was
a terrific battle all over the kitchen.
To the rabbits underneath it sounded
as if the floor would give way at
each crash of falling furniture.
They crept out of their tunnel,
and hung about amongst the rocks
and bushes, listening anxiously.
Inside the house the racket was
fearful. The rabbit babies in the
oven woke up trembling; perhaps
it was fortunate they were shut up
inside..
Everything was upset except the
kitchen table.
And everything was broken,
except the mantelpiece and the
kitchen fender. The crockery was
smashed to atoms.
The
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