Bumper woke up the next morning so hungry that he couldn't think of any of
the million questions to ask until he'd finished eating his breakfast.
Besides a cabbage, there were some carrots and beet tops the old woman had
fished out of a grocer's backyard, and Bumper had to jump lively to get
his share. Jimsy and Wheedles were already on their second carrot when he
opened his eyes.
"You'll never catch up with me!" said Jimsy, greedily. "I'm one carrot
ahead of you."
"And I'm one and a half," mumbled Wheedles, with his mouth full.
"I don't care. Sleep is better for you than so much eating. I had a longer
nap, and such beautiful dreams! Oh, I do hope some of them will come
true."
"Tell us about them," said Jimsy, forgetting to eat. "I never have
dreams."
"Neither do I," complained Wheedles. "You must tell us about your dreams."
"As soon as I finish my breakfast I will," replied Bumper. "Yes, they were
beautiful dreams! I thought I was in a big place filled with crisp lettuce
and golden carrots, and a girl with red hair picked me up in her arms and
carried me away."
Bumper stopped talking while his brothers looked in amazement at him. They
had heard the day before his story of the red-haired girl who wanted to
buy him, and they were interested. But while they stopped and waited for
him to proceed, Bumper chewed away at his carrot until it was all gone.
Then, picking up a second one, he said: "Now I'm up with you. I'm on my
second carrot. To-morrow morning I'll tell you the rest of the dream."
Jimsy and Wheedles were greatly surprised and angered at the trick Bumper
had played upon them, and they immediately began eating their carrots
again as fast as they could.
They were in the midst of their breakfast when the old woman came in the
backyard with her basket. All the rabbits set up a commotion then, for
they knew she would choose some of them to take away and sell. There were
two reasons why they all wanted to be chosen.
One was they liked the change from their narrow quarters to the street
corner and the sights of the city. Another was they all hoped some day to
be sold and taken away to a big house where they would be petted and fed
until their little stomachs would nearly burst open. They were a little
crowded in their home, and new baby rabbits were coming all the time so
that if some of them weren't sold they'd soon be walking all over each
other.
"Now, which ones shall I take to-day?" the old woman mumbled, smiling upon
all of them.
They all bobbed their heads and blinked their pink eyes, and Jimsy jumped
over Bumper's back and hopped right into the woman's hands.
"Well, Jimsy," she said, "you seem very anxious to go, so I'll take you
for one."
Wheedles tried the same trick, but it didn't work the second time. "No,
Wheedles, you've got a cold," she said, pushing him back. "People don't
want to buy rabbits that have colds."
Bumper had no cold, and he decided to try his luck, but Topsy, a big
rabbit, got in his way, and nearly bowled him over. Bumper squealed, and
the old woman pushed Topsy away.
"No, you can't go for being so rough," she scolded. "Poor little Bumper,
did Topsy hurt you?"
Bumper was sure then that she intended to take him along with Jimsy; but
no! she put him down gently, and selected three others. Bumper's
disappointment was so great that a tear came into one of his pink eyes.
It was mother who consoled him when the old woman had filled her basket
and left the yard. "Never mind, dear, your time will come. You're younger
than Jimsy."
"But why should I always be left at home?" complained Bumper.
"It's the place for little rabbits," was the reply. "There's no place so
safe and comfortable."
"But you always told us some day we'd find a better home, with plenty to
eat, and nothing to do," whimpered Bumper, who felt quite cross. "Why did
you tell us that?"
Mother rabbit looked quite perplexed for a moment. "I think, dear," she
said finally, "you ask more questions than any child I ever had."
Bumper's eyes shone with amusement. "I have a million more of them to ask,
mother. I dreamt of them last night."
"Then," laughing at him, "find the answers to them in your dreams
to-night."
The next day Bumper had his turn, and then again the following day, but
each time he returned home unsold. Jimsy was bought by a little boy, and
triumphantly carried off, and Wheedles was captured by a girl. Even Topsy,
who was big and clumsy, found a purchaser, and disappeared from the
backyard. On returning home the fourth time, Bumper was in a disappointed
mood, and felt very unhappy.
"Why is it, mother," he asked, "that no one buys me? Am I so homely that
no one wants me?"
"What a question to ask, dear!" smiled mother rabbit. Then, patting him on
the head, she added: "Bend down your ears, and I'll whisper a secret in
them."
Bumper squatted down, and pulled both long ears toward his mother so he
wouldn't miss a word.
"It isn't good for little rabbits to hear what I'm going to tell you," she
whispered. "It often makes them proud and vain; but I suppose you will
know it some day."
Mother rabbit sighed, as if the secret was hard to tell, and not very
pleasant to hear. Mothers are very queer sometimes, even rabbit mothers.
"It's because you're so beautiful, dear!" she whispered finally. "You're
whiter than any of my children, and you have the softest fur, and the
pinkest eyes. Now do you understand?"
No, Bumper didn't understand a bit. He was more perplexed than ever. If he
was handsomer than other white rabbits, then why didn't people buy him
first? Why did they look at him, and return him to the basket, and say:
"I guess I'll take the other one?"
"It must be people don't know how pretty I am," he said finally. "What can
I do to make them see?"
Mother rabbit laughed until her fat sides wobbled like a fur muff filled
with playful kittens. "Dear, dear," she exclaimed, with tears in her eyes.
"I thought you would understand. It's because the people don't have the
money to give."
"Why don't they?" he asked, a little peeved. "Don't they have all the
money they want?"
"No, dear, not all of them. Some are nearly as poor as we are, and they
have to be careful of the pennies. That's why they don't buy you. The old
woman asks too much for you."
This didn't improve Bumper's temper any; but right away he thought of the
little girl with the red hair. "Do you think she has plenty of money?" he
asked. "She was beautifully dressed, and had a rose in her hair."
"I don't know. Some people put all their money on their backs, and starve
their stomachs. It may be this girl was that kind."
Bumper was sure she was wrong, for the red-haired girl didn't look
starved; but she didn't have any of her birthday money left, and she
confessed she'd spent it all for cakes and candies. Bumper wondered if
she'd had anything to eat since, or if she was saving up her money to buy
him.
That night he had another dream in which the red-haired girl appeared; but
in the morning the old woman took him out of the box, and said: "It's your
turn, Bumper. I must sell you to-day. I need the money badly."