FLUFF-BUTTON THE RABBIT 107 
The sanicle spread a silvery pall above the dying 
bluebells; the thick scent of the hawthorn was 
borne to and fro on the night wind ; and the wood- 
cock, playing in the dusk, ' chissicked ' as they 
wheeled overhead. That night, for the first time, 
the White Rabbit ate grass and relished it. She 
was very hungry, and once her little teeth learned 
the knack of nibbling criss-cross up a blade, she 
found that it was pleasanter than her previous 
attempts had led her to believe. In fact, she was 
so intent upon her newly learned accomplishment 
that she never heard the owl swoop down with a 
thrum of soft wings, and then slant up just as the 
hawk had done on the hill. But she heard the 
click as he alighted on a branch overhead, and 
seeing his eyes, catlike and luminous in the gloom, 
she hid under a bush. 
A day or two later, the White Rabbit had one 
of the narrowest escapes of her life. Perhaps she 
had got over her first fright and grown reckless ; at 
any rate, she came out into the grass in broad day- 
light. The field was purple with ripening grasses, 
and the warm wind bore the scent of young birch 
leaves the sweetest of all summer scents. It was 
good to be alive. The White Rabbit lay down on 
her side, and stretched herself luxuriously in the 
hot sun. Bees hummed comfortably in the vetches, 
