PETER RABBIT HAS A SUDDEN CHANGE OF MIND
Whatever you decide to do
Make up your mind to see it through.
Peter Rabbit.
Peter Rabbit stared at the two soft, gentle eyes peeping at him from
behind the big fern just back of the sunning-bank in the far corner of
the Old Pasture. He had so fully expected to see the angry face of the
big, gray, old Rabbit who had made life so miserable for him that for a
minute he couldn't believe that he really saw what he did see. And so he
just stared and stared. It was very rude. Of course it was. It was very
rude indeed. It is always rude to stare at any one. So it was no wonder
that after a minute the two soft, gentle eyes disappeared behind one
of the great green leaves of the fern. Peter gave a great sigh. Then he
remembered how rude he had been to stare so.
“I--I beg your pardon,” said Peter in his politest manner, which is very
polite indeed, for Peter can be very polite when he wants to be. “I beg
your pardon. I didn't mean to frighten you. Please forgive me.”
With the greatest eagerness Peter waited for a reply. You know it was
because he had been so lonesome that he had left his home in the dear
Old Briar-patch on the Green Meadows. And since he had been in the Old
Pasture he had been almost as lonesome, for he had had no one to talk
to. So now he waited eagerly for a reply. You see, he felt sure that
the owner of such soft, gentle eyes must have a soft, gentle voice and a
soft, gentle heart, and there was nothing in the world that Peter needed
just then so much as sympathy. But though he waited and waited, there
wasn't a sound from the big fern.
“Perhaps you don't know who I am. I'm Peter Rabbit, and I've come up
here from the Green Meadows, and I'd like very much to be your friend,”
continued Peter after a while. Still there was no sound. Peter peeped
from the corner of one eye at the place where he had seen the two soft,
gentle eyes, but there was nothing to be seen but the gently waving leaf
of the big fern. Peter didn't know just what to do. He wanted to hop
over to the big fern and peep behind it, but he didn't dare to. He was
afraid that whoever was hiding there would run away.
“I'm very lonesome; won't you speak to me?” said Peter, in his gentlest
voice, and he sighed a deep, doleful sort of sigh. Still there was no
reply. Peter had just about made up his mind that he would go over to
the big fern when he saw those two soft, gentle eyes peeping from under
a different leaf. It seemed to Peter that never in all his life had he
seen such beautiful eyes. They looked so shy and bashful that Peter held
his breath for fear that he would frighten them away.
After a time the eyes disappeared. Then Peter saw a little movement
among the ferns, and he knew that whoever was there was stealing away.
He wanted to follow, but something down inside him warned him that It
was best to sit still. So Peter sat just where he was and kept perfectly
still for the longest time.
But the eyes didn't appear again, and at last he felt sure that whoever
they belonged to had really gone away. Then he sighed another great
sigh, for suddenly he felt more lonesome than ever. He hopped over
to the big fern and looked behind it. There in the soft earth was a
footprint, the footprint of a Rabbit, and it was SMALLER than his own.
It seemed to Peter that it was the most wonderful little footprint he
ever had seen.
“I believe,” said Peter right out loud, “that I'll change my mind. I
won't go back to the dear Old Briar-patch just yet, after all.”