CHAPTER XXI 



A FISHING PARTY 



PETER RABBIT sat on the edge of the Old Briar- 

 patch trying to make up his mind whether to stay 

 at home, which was the wise and proper thing to 

 do, or to go call on some of the friends he had not 

 yet visited. A sharp, harsh rattle caused him to 

 look up to see a bird about a third larger than 

 Welcome Robin, and with a head out of all pro- 

 portion to the size of his body. He was flying 

 straight towards the Smiling Pool, rattling harshly 

 as he flew. The mere sound of his voice settled 

 the matter for Peter. "It's Rattles the King- 

 fisher," he cried. "I think I'll run over to the 

 Smiling Pool and pay him my respects." 



So Peter started for the Smiling Pool as fast as 

 his long legs could take him, lipperty-lipperty- 

 lip. He had lost sight of Rattles the Kingfisher, 

 and when he reached the bank of the Smiling 

 Pool he was in doubt which way to turn. It was 

 very early in the morning and there was not so 

 much as a ripple on the surface of the Smiling 

 Pool. As Peter sat there trying to make up his 

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