An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.

Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish; she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.

He went back toward the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scratch.

Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But, presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned toward Peter, and beyond him was the gate!

Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.

Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.

Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds.

Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree.

He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.

His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!

I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.

His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!

"One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time."

But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.

THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR a.s.s

Once upon a time there was a miller who lived in a little house beside his mill. All day long he worked hard, but at night he went home to his wife and his little boy.

One day this miller made up his mind that he would take his a.s.s to the fair and sell it. So he and his boy said farewell to the dame and started off. They had not gone far when they met a number of girls coming from the town.

"Look!" said one of them. "Did you ever see such stupid fellows? They are walking when one of them might be riding."

When the miller heard this he bade the boy get up on the a.s.s, while he tramped along merrily by its side. Soon they came to a number of old men standing by the side of the road talking together.

"Look at that," said one of them, "Look at that young rascal riding, while his poor father has to walk. Get down, you idle fellow, and let your father ride."

Upon this the son got down from the a.s.s, and the miller took his place. They had not gone very far when they met two women coming home from market.

"You lazy old man!" they cried at once. "How dare you ride when your poor little boy is walking and can hardly keep pace with you?"

Then the miller, who was a good-natured man, took his son up behind him, and in this way they went to the town.

"My good fellow," said a townsman whom they met, "is that a.s.s your own?"

"Yes," replied the miller.

"I should not have thought so, by the way you load him," said the man.

"Why, you two are better able to carry the beast than he is to carry you."

"Well," said the miller, "we can but try."

So he and his son got down, and tied the legs of the a.s.s together.

Then they slung him on a pole, and carried him on their shoulders. It was such a funny sight that the people laughed and jeered at them.

The poor a.s.s was very uncomfortable, and tried hard to get off the pole. At last, as they were pa.s.sing over a bridge, he pulled his legs out of the rope and tumbled to the ground. He was so frightened that he jumped off the bridge into the river and was drowned.

Do you know what this story teaches you?

_If you try to please everybody, you will please n.o.body._

THE VISIT TO SANTA CLAUS LAND

Jack and Margaret were growing more excited each day, because Christmas was so near. They talked of nothing but Santa Claus.

"Don't you wish you could _see_ him?" they said over and over.

One night, just before Christmas, Mother tucked them in bed and left them to go to sleep. But Jack wiggled, Margaret wriggled. At last they both sat up in bed.

"Jack," Margaret whispered, "are you asleep?"

"No," said Jack, "I can't go to sleep. Margaret, don't you wish you could see Santa Claus? What's that?"

They both listened, and they heard a little _tap, tap_ on the window.

They looked, and there, right in the window, they saw a funny little Brownie.

"What's that I heard you say? You want to see Santa Claus? Well, I am one of his Brownies. I am on my way back to Santa Claus Land. I'll take you with me if you want to go."

Jack and Margaret scrambled from their beds.

"Come on, show us the way!" they cried in great excitement.

"No, indeed," said the Brownie. "No one must know the way to Santa Claus Land. Kindly wait a moment."

Then the Brownie took something soft and thick and dark, and tied it around Jack's eyes. Next he took something soft and thick and dark, and tied it around Margaret's eyes.