THE SIGNAL 



41 



The sun was almost setting 

 when Anne remem- 

 bered Waddles. He 

 was returning from his chase 

 with something fluffy in his 

 mouth, which, a moment after, he 

 laid at Anne's feet. 



"That is all of the Rabbit I 

 could bring you, missy ; I didn't 

 eat a scrap, it ran so fast," he 

 panted. 



Anne picked up the bit of fur ; it 

 was poor Bunnie's white-lined tail. 

 "Oh, Waddles, for 

 shame ! how could 

 you ? " scolded Anne, 

 stamping her foot. " It 

 isn't fair hunting man- 

 ners to bite tails off." 



" 1 didn't bite it, 

 missy; I only tried 

 to persuade the 



