短篇经典童话故事集

时间:2022-11-07 08:23:46 其他范文 收藏本文 下载本文

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。

短篇经典童话故事集

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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