er!" she said, reprovingly. "You mustn't do
such things!"

Bumper felt so crestfallen at this rebuke that he remained perfectly quiet
during the rest of the walk. He snuggled up into the crook of her arm, and
peeped out once only when they reached a big house and began ascending the
steps.

So this was to be his future home! What a big place it was! Why, hundreds
and hundreds of white rabbits could live in that house and never lack for
elbow room.

Just then, when Bumper began to feel a little proud about his future home,
a great noise and clatter behind the door startled him, and it opened so
suddenly that he nearly popped out of the lady's arms. And what happened
to him behind that door of the big house might fill chapters and chapters,
but it will all be told in the next story.

STORY IV

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE DREADFUL HOUSE

When the door of the house flew open with a bang, the lady holding Bumper
put one hand to her heart, and exclaimed:

"Oh, dear, what has happened now!"

Bumper couldn't see any one in the dark, but evidently the lady could, for
a cool, quiet voice spoke to her.

"Toby threw his playthings down the stairs, and he's riding the banisters
with a tin pan for a hat. I suppose you heard the clatter of the pan as it
fell off."

"It sounded to me as if the house was falling down, Mary! I do wish Toby
would behave."

The one addressed as Mary laughed. She seemed like a pleasant, wholesome
young woman, with pink cheeks and smiling gray eyes. "I've told him to
behave a dozen times, but he won't mind. He's been cutting up all the
morning. But what have you there in your arms, Aunt Helen?"

"Guess, Mary. It's for Toby's birthday."

"Some kind of a toy, I suppose--or maybe a book."

"A book for Toby! What an idea! He'd throw it in the fire unless he liked
the pictures. No, it's something prettier and better than a book."

She opened her arms, and held Bumper forward so Mary could see him, long,
white ears and blinking eyes and all.

"Oh! A dear little rabbit!"

Before Bumper could protest or stop his heart from beating like a
trip-hammer, Mary seized him in both hands, and began gently stroking his
head.

"What a sweet little thing!" she murmured. "And so tame and friendly!"

Bumper was rubbing his wet nose against her velvety hands and thinking how
soft and pleasant they were to the touch.

"Yes, he's so tame he never once tried to jump out of my hands," replied
Aunt Helen. "