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Burgess, Thornton W. (Thornton Waldo), 1874-1965

"Mrs. Peter Rabbit"


"I haven't anything to fear from him, anyway, for he'll never think of
coming way up here," said he.


CHAPTER VI
PETER RABBIT IS STILL LONESOME

A sympathetic word or two
A wond'rous help is, when you're blue.
So pity him who sits alone
His aches and troubles to bemoan.
Peter Rabbit.
All the rest of that night Peter sat under a friendly old bramble-bush
on the edge of the Old Pasture and nursed the sore places made by the
claws of Hooty the Owl. At last jolly, round, red Mr. Sun began to climb
up in the blue, blue sky, just as he does every day. Peter looked up at
him, and he felt sure that Mr. Sun winked at him. Somehow it made him
feel better. The fact is, Peter was beginning to feel just a wee, wee
bit homesick. It is bad enough to be in a strange place alone, but to be
sore and to smart and ache as Peter did makes that lonesome feeling a
whole lot harder to bear. It is dreadful not to have any one to speak
to, but to look around and not see a single thing you have ever seen
before,--my, my, my, it certainly does give you a strange, sinking
feeling way down inside!
Before that long night was over Peter felt as if his heart had gone way
down to his very toes. Yes, Sir, that's the way he felt. Every time he
moved at all he cried "Ouch!" He just knew that he was growing more
stiff and sore every minute. Then he began to wonder what he should do
for something to eat, for he was in a strange place, you remember.


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