rabbit.
And he began to whirl round and dance, till the little Rabbit got
quite dizzy.

"I don't like dancing," he said. "I'd rather sit still!"

But all the while he was longing to dance, for a funny new tickly
feeling ran through him, and he felt he would give anything in the
world to be able to jump about like these rabbits did.

The strange rabbit stopped dancing, and came quite close. He came so
close this time that his long whiskers brushed the Velveteen Rabbit's
ear, and then he wrinkled his nose suddenly and flattened his ears and
jumped backwards.

"He doesn't smell right!" he exclaimed. "He isn't a rabbit at all! He
isn't real!"

"I am Real!" said the little Rabbit. "I am Real! The Boy said so!" And
he nearly began to cry.

Just then there was a sound of footsteps, and the Boy ran past near
them, and with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails the two
strange rabbits disappeared.

"Come back and play with me!" called the little Rabbit. "Oh, do come
back! I know I am Real!"

But there was no answer, only the little ants ran to and fro, and the
bracken swayed gently where the two strangers had passed. The
Velveteen Rabbit was all alone.

"Oh, dear!" he thought. "Why did they run away like that? Why couldn't
they stop and talk to me?"

For a long time he lay very still, watching the bracken, and hoping
that they would come back. But they never returned, and presently the
sun sank lower and the little white moths fluttered out, and the Boy
came and carried him home.

Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the
Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his
whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his
brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely
looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always
beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He
didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic
had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.

And then, one day, the Boy was ill.

His face grew very flushed, and he talked in his sleep, and his little
body was so hot that it burned the Rabbit when he held him close.
Strange people came and went in the nursery, and a light burned all
night and through it all the little Velveteen Rabbit lay there, hidden
from sight under the bedclothes, and he never stirred, for he was
afraid t