said:

"But you haven't told me anything about those rags hanging to
your antlers."

"And you haven't believed what I have already told you," retorted
Lightfoot. "I don't like telling things to people who won't
believe me."

CHAPTER III: Lightfoot Tells How His Antlers Grew

It is hard to believe what seems impossible. And yet what seems
impossible to you may be a very commonplace matter to some one
else. So it does not do to say that a thing cannot be possible
just because you cannot understand how it can be. Peter Rabbit
wanted to believe what Lightfoot the Deer had just told him, but
somehow he couldn't. If he had seen those antlers growing, it
would have been another matter. But he hadn't seen Lightfoot
since the very last of winter, and then Lightfoot had worn just
such handsome antlers as he now had. So Peter really couldn't be
blamed for not being able to believe that those old ones had been
lost and in their place new ones had grown in just the few months
of spring and summer.

But Peter didn't blame Lightfoot in the least, because he had
told Peter that he didn't like to tell things to people who
wouldn't believe what he told them when Peter had asked him about
the rags hanging to his antlers. "I'm trying to believe it," he
said, quite humbly.

"It's all true," broke in another voice.

Peter jumped and turned to find his big cousin, Jumper the
Hare. Unseen and unheard, he had stolen up and had overheard what
Peter and Lightfoot had said.

"How do you know it is true?" snapped Peter a little crossly, for
Jumper had startled him.

"Because I saw Lightfoot's old antlers after they had fallen off,
and I often saw Lightfoot while his new ones were growing,"
retorted Jumper.

"All right! I'll believe anything that Lightfoot tells me if you
say it is true," declared Peter, who greatly admires his cousin,
Jumper. "Now tell me about those rags, Lightfoot. Please do."

Lightfoot couldn't resist that "please." "Those rags are what is
left of a kind of covering which protected the antlers while they
were growing, as I told you before," said he. "Very soon after
my old ones dropped off the new ones began to grow. They were
not hard, not at all like they are now. They were soft and very
tender, and the blood ran through them just as it does through
our bodies. They were covered with a sort of skin with hairs on
it like thin fur. The ends were not sharply pointed they now
are, but w