'MY infanc:y' 



37 



it had been me, because Sal was so nice and quiet 

 and useful in the house. I am afraid that it was 

 my fault, perhaps, because I persuaded her to come 

 out, when she really did not want to come. I told 

 her that she was a ' molly-coddle,' and that I be- 

 lieved that she was afraid, and then, of course, she 

 was obliged to come. Poor Sal ! I remembered 

 her little squeak for two or three hours at least ; 

 however, I am sure that she was tender to eat, 

 because I had a nibble at her myself once, when 

 she was in my way. I feel sure that Mr. Owl 

 chose the right one. 



I forget now how many we were when we were 

 born — six or eight, I expect, as that is the usual 

 number. Jolly little pink beggars we were, quite 

 blind and with blunt noses, and our nest was a 

 gorgeous heap of soft stuff of every kind that 

 you can possibly imagine. It must have taken 

 mother days and days to collect. I rather fancy 

 that she must have been down a rabbit s hole to 

 steal some of the fur which Mamma Rabbit strips 

 off herself to keep her young ones warm ; but there 

 were lots of soft grass as well, and bits of paper torn 

 up into strips, and sheep's wool and cow's hair. I 

 know where she got the last ingredient, for there 

 was a big post not far off our holes which the 



