Bunny Rabbit's Diary.

by Mary Frances Blaisdell.

PREFACE

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.

BUNNY RABBIT'S DIARY

Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit and the three little rabbits lived in the woods.

Each little rabbit had a name.

There was Bunny Rabbit, Bobtail Rabbit, and Billy Rabbit.

Bunny was full of fun, and liked to play tricks on his brothers.

Bobtail liked to play with Bunny. He was always ready to join in all the fun.

But Billy was lazy. He did not like to work, and he did not like to play.

He liked to curl up in the tall gra.s.s and sleep.

The rabbits had many playmates in the woods and fields.

They played with the gray squirrels that lived in the big oak tree.

They played with the red squirrels that lived in the old stone wall.

Sometimes Bunny ran down to the brook to visit old Mr. Green Frog.

Sometimes he talked to Mrs. Duck, when she came to the brook to teach her little ones to swim.

There was always something to do; and Bunny, and Bobtail, and Billy were always doing something.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Bunny played with the gray squirrel.]

One Christmas Mrs. Rabbit gave Bunny a book.

She made it herself out of maple leaves.

She pinned the leaves together with thorns from the rose-bush that grew on the wall.

When Bunny saw the book he jumped up and down and clapped his hands.

"Oh, goody, goody!" he said. "What a pretty book this is."

"I will sit down on the old stump and read the stories this very minute."

So Bunny sat down on the stump and opened his book.

He opened the book and looked at the first leaf.

There was no story to read.

He looked at the next leaf.

There was no story to read.

He turned one leaf and then another.

They were all alike.

There was not a story in the book, and Bunny could not find one picture.

"This is a funny book," he said to himself. "I will run and ask Mother Rabbit what kind of a book this is."

So Bunny jumped off the stump and ran to find Mother Rabbit.

"Mother Rabbit," he said, "what kind of a book is this?

"There are no pictures, and I can not find one story to read."

"That is a diary," said Mother Rabbit. "You must write the stories in the book yourself."

"What stories shall I write?" asked Bunny.

"You can write about the good times you and Bobtail and Billy have, playing in the woods," said Mother Rabbit.

"What fun!" said Bunny. "I am going to write a story in my book this very morning."

So Bunny Rabbit ran back to the big stump.

But he did not know just how to write a story.

He had never written one before.

He thought, and thought, and thought.