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THE TALE OF PETER RABBIT
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BY
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BEATRIX POTTER
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Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names
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were--
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Flopsy,
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Mopsy,
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Cotton-tail,
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and Peter.
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They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a
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very big fir-tree.
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'Now my dears,' said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, 'you may go into
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the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden:
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your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs.
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McGregor.'
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'Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out.'
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Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through
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the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five
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currant buns.
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Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went
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down the lane to gather blackberries:
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But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's
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garden, and squeezed under the gate!
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First he ate some lettuces and some French beans; and then he ate
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some radishes;
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And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.
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But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr.
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McGregor!
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Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages,
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but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out,
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'Stop thief!'
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Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden,
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for he had forgotten the way back to the gate.
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He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe
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amongst the potatoes.
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After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I
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think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately
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run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his
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jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.
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Peter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were
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overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great
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excitement, and implored him to exert himself.
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Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the
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top of Peter; but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket
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behind him.
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And rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It would have
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been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.
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Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the
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tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He began to turn
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them over carefully, looking under each.
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Presently Peter sneezed--'Kertyschoo!' Mr. McGregor was after him in
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no time.
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And tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window,
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upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and
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he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.
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Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with
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fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was
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very damp with sitting in that can.
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After a time he began to wander about, going lippity--lippity--not
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very fast, and looking all round.
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He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room
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for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.
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An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying
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peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to
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the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not
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answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.
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Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he
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became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr.
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McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some
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gold-fish, she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her
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tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away
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without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin,
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little Benjamin Bunny.
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He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him,
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he heard the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch.
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Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing
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happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over.
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The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was
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turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!
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Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow; and started running
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as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some
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black-currant bushes.
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Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not
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care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood
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outside the garden.
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Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow
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to frighten the blackbirds.
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Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to
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the big fir-tree.
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He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the
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floor of the rabbit-hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy
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cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the
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second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a
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fortnight!
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I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
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His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a
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dose of it to Peter!
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'One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.'
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But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and
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blackberries for supper.
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THE END
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