Bunny Rabbit had a book for Christmas. Mother Rabbit made it for him
out of maple leaves, pinned together with thorns from the rose-bush on
the stone wall. Bunny clapped his hands when he saw the book, and sat
down at once on the old stump to read the stories. But there was not a
story in the whole book--no, not one! There wasn't even a picture.
"You must write the book yourself," Mother Rabbit told him. "Then you
will be sure to like it."
So Bunny Rabbit wrote the book about the good times he had with Bobtail
and Billy, and all his other playmates. He wrote about the slide they
made on the long hill beside the pond; about Mrs. Duck's swimming
lesson, and the kite Bobtail made out of a leaf from the big oak tree;
about Sammy Red Squirrel's flying machine, and Bobby Gray Squirrel's
peanut party.
He hid the book in the hollow tree where no one would find it. But some
one did find it,--some one who knew how to read the funny little tracks
of rabbit writing,--and here are the stories in Bunny Rabbit's Diary.