Beatrix Potter
English Writer
1866-1943 A selection from
THE TALE OF PETER RABBIT
AND
THE TALE OF BENJAMIN BUNNY
Narrated by Beth Richmond
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running time is 15 minutes
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The Tale of Peter Rabbit
ONCE upon a time there
were four little Rabbits,
and their names were—
Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter.
They lived with their Mother
in a sand-bank, underneath the
root of a very big fir tree.
"NOW, my dears," said old
Mrs. Rabbit one morning,
"you may go into the fields
or down the lane, but don't go
into Mr. McGregor's garden:
your Father had an accident
there; he was put in a pie by
Mrs. McGregor."
"NOW run along, and don't
get into mischief. I am
going out."
THEN old Mrs. Rabbit took
a basket and her umbrella,
to the baker's. She bought a
loaf of brown bread and five
currant buns.
FLOPSY, Mopsy, and
Cottontail, who were good
little bunnies, went down the
lane to gather blackberries;
BUT Peter, who was very
naughty, ran straight
away to Mr. McGregor's
garden and squeezed under
the gate!
FIRST he ate some lettuces
and some French beans;
and then he ate some radishes;
AND then, feeling rather
sick, he went to look for
some parsley.
BUT round the end of a
cucumber frame, whom
should he meet but Mr.
McGregor!
MR. McGREGOR was on
his hands and knees
planting out young cabbages,
but he jumped up and ran after
Peter, waving a rake and calling
out, "Stop thief!"
PETER was most dreadfully
frightened; he rushed all
over the garden, for he had
forgotten the way back to the
gate.
He lost one of his shoes
among the cabbages, and the
other shoe amongst the potatoes.
AFTER losing them, he ran
on four legs and went
faster, so that I think he might
have got away altogether if he
had not unfortunately run into
a gooseberry net, and got
caught by the large buttons on
his jacket. It was a blue jacket
with brass buttons, quite new.
PETER gave himself up for
lost, and shed big tears;
but his sobs were overheard by
some friendly sparrows, who
flew to him in great excitement,
and implored him to
exert himself.
MR. McGREGOR came up
with a sieve, which he
intended to pop upon the top
of Peter; but Peter wriggled
out just in time, leaving his
jacket behind him.
AND rushed into the toolshed,
and jumped into a can.
It would have been a
beautiful thing to hide in, if it
had not had so much water in it.
MR. McGREGOR was
quite sure that Peter
was somewhere in the toolshed,
perhaps hidden underneath
a flower-pot. He began
to turn them over carefully,
looking under each.
Presently Peter sneezed—
"Kertyschoo!" Mr. McGregor
was after him in no time,
AND tried to put his foot
upon Peter, who jumped
out of a window, upsetting
three plants. The window was
too small for Mr. McGregor,
and he was tired of running
after Peter. He went back to
his work.
PETER sat down to rest;
he was out of breath and
trembling with fright, and he
had not the least idea which
way to go. Also he was very
damp with sitting in that can.
After a time he began to
wander about, going lippity—
lippity—not very fast, and
looking all around.
HE found a door in a wall;
but it was locked, and
there was no room for a fat
little rabbit to squeeze
underneath.
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 gold-fish; 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 towards the
tool-shed, but suddenly,
quite close to him, he heard
the noise of a hoe—scr-r-ritch,
scratch, scratch, scritch. 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 towards
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 scare-crow 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 END
THE TALE OF BENJAMIN BUNNY
ONE morning a little rabbit
sat on a bank.
He pricked his ears and
listened to the trit-trot,
trit-trot of a pony.
A gig was coming along the
road; it was driven by Mr.
McGregor, and beside him sat
Mrs. McGregor in her best
bonnet.
AS soon as they had passed,
little Benjamin Bunny
slid down into the road, and
set off—with a hop, skip and
a jump—to call upon his relations,
who lived in the wood at
the back of Mr. McGregor's
garden.
THAT wood was full of
rabbit holes; and in the
neatest sandiest hole of all,
cousins—Flopsy, Mopsy,
Cotton-tail and Peter.
Old Mrs. Rabbit was a
widow; she earned her living
by knitting rabbit-wool mittens
and muffetees (I once bought
a pair at a bazaar). She also
sold herbs, and rosemary tea,
and rabbit-tobacco (which is
what WE call lavender).
LITTLE Benjamin did not
very much want to see
his Aunt.
He came round the back of
the fir-tree, and nearly tumbled
upon the top of his Cousin
Peter.
PETER was sitting by himself.
He looked poorly,
and was dressed in a red cotton
pocket-handkerchief.
"Peter,"—said little Benjamin,
in a whisper—"who has
got your clothes?"
PETER replied—"The scarecrow
in Mr. McGregor's
garden," and described how he
had been chased about the
garden, and had dropped his
shoes and coat.
Little Benjamin sat down beside
his cousin, and assured him
that Mr. McGregor had gone
out in a gig, and Mrs. McGregor
also; and certainly for the day,
because she was wearing her
best bonnet.
PETER said he hoped that
it would rain.
At this point, old Mrs.
Rabbit's voice was heard inside
the rabbit hole calling—
"Cotton-tail! Cotton-tail!
fetch some more camomile!"
Peter said he thought he
might feel better if he went
for a walk.
THEY went away hand in
hand, and got upon the
flat top of the wall at the bottom
of the wood. From here they
looked down into Mr. McGregor's
garden. Peter's coat
and shoes were plainly to be
seen upon the scarecrow,
topped with an old tam-o-
shanter of Mr. McGregor's.
LITTLE Benjamin said,
"It spoils people's clothes
to squeeze under a gate; the
proper way to get in, is to
climb down a pear tree."
Peter fell down head first;
but it was of no consequence,
as the bed below was newly
raked and quite soft.
IT had been sown with lettuces.
They left a great many odd
little foot-marks all over the
bed, especially little Benjamin,
who was wearing clogs.
LITTLE Benjamin said that
the first thing to be done
was to get back Peter's clothes,
in order that they might be
able to use the pocket handkerchief.
They took them off the scarecrow.
There had been rain
during the night; there was
water in the shoes, and the
coat was somewhat shrunk.
Benjamin tried on the tam-
o-shanter, but it was too big
for him.
THEN he suggested that
they should fill the pocket-
handkerchief with onions, as
a little present for his Aunt.
Peter did not seem to be
enjoying himself; he kept
hearing noises.
BENJAMIN, on the contrary,
was perfectly at
home, and ate a lettuce leaf.
He said that he was in the
habit of coming to the garden
with his father to get lettuces
for their Sunday dinner.
(The name of little Benjamin's
papa was old Mr. Benjamin
Bunny.)
The lettuces certainly were
very fine.
PETER did not eat anything;
he said he should
like to go home. Presently he
dropped half the onions.
LITTLE Benjamin said that
it was not possible to get
back up the pear-tree, with a
load of vegetables. He led
the way boldly towards the
other end of the garden. They
went along a little walk on
planks, under a sunny red-
brick wall.
The mice sat on their door-
steps cracking cherry-stones,
they winked at Peter Rabbit
and little Benjamin Bunny.
PRESENTLY Peter let the
pocket-handkerchief go
again.
THEY got amongst flower-
pots, and frames and
tubs; Peter heard noises worse
than ever, his eyes were as big
as lolly-pops!
He was a step or two in
front of his cousin, when he
suddenly stopped.
THIS is what those little
rabbits saw round that
corner!
Little Benjamin took one
look, and then, in half a minute
less than no time, he hid himself
and Peter and the onions
underneath a large basket. . . .
THE cat got up and stretched
herself, and came and
sniffed at the basket.
Perhaps she liked the smell
of onions!
Anyway, she sat down upon
the top of the basket.
SHE sat there for FIVE HOURS.
* * * * *
I cannot draw you a picture
of Peter and Benjamin underneath
the basket, because it
was quite dark, and because
the smell of onions was fearful;
it made Peter Rabbit and little
Benjamin cry.
The sun got round behind
the wood, and it was quite late
in the afternoon; but still the
cat sat upon the basket.
AT length there was a pitter-
patter, pitter-patter, and
some bits of mortar fell from
the wall above.
The cat looked up and saw
old Mr. Benjamin Bunny
prancing along the top of the
wall of the upper terrace.
He was smoking a pipe of
rabbit-tobacco, and had a little
switch in his hand.
He was looking for his son.
OLD Mr. Bunny had no
opinion whatever of cats.
He took a tremendous jump
off the top of the wall on to
the top of the cat, and cuffed
it off the basket, and kicked it
into the garden-house, scratching
off a handful of fur.
The cat was too much surprised
to scratch back.
WHEN old Mr. Bunny had
driven the cat into the
green-house, he locked the
door.
Then he came back to the
basket and took out his son
Benjamin by the ears, and
whipped him with the little
switch.
Then he took out his nephew
Peter.
THEN he took out the handkerchief
of onions, and
marched out of the garden.
When Mr. McGregor
returned about half an
hour later, he observed several
things which perplexed him.
It looked as though some
person had been walking all
over the garden in a pair of
clogs—only the foot-marks
were too ridiculously little!
Also he could not understand
how the cat could have
managed to shut herself up
INSIDE the green-house, locking
the door upon the OUTSIDE.
WHEN Peter got home,
his mother forgave him,
because she was so glad to see
that he had found his shoes
and coat. Cotton-tail and
Peter folded up the pocket-
handkerchief, and old Mrs.
Rabbit strung up the onions
and hung them from the
kitchen ceiling, with the
rabbit-tobacco.
THE END
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