keep out the rain, saw something on
the grass, and pounced upon the wretched hare. Already his great thumb
was against the back of her neck--already she was thrown across his
knee--already she felt her sinews stretch, as he proceeded to break her
neck, regardless of her shrieks--when suddenly it occurred to him how
delighted Bevis would be with a living hare. For the bailiff was very
fond of Bevis, and would have done anything to please him. So he took
the hare in his arms, and carried her down to the farm.

When Bevis got up and came to breakfast, the bailiff came in and brought
him the hare, expecting that he would be highly pleased. But Bevis in an
instant recognised his friend who had shown him his way in the cowslips,
and flew into a rage, and beat the bailiff with his fist for his
cruelty. Nothing would satisfy him but he must let the hare go free
before he touched his breakfast. He would not sit down, he stamped and
made such a to-do that at last they let him have his own way.

He would not even allow the bailiff to carry the hare for him; he took
her in his arms and went with her up the footpath into the field. He
would not even permit them to follow him. Now, the hare knew him very
well but could not speak when any one else was near, for it is very well
known to be a law among hares and birds, and such creatures, that they
can only talk to one human being, and are dumb when more than one are
present. But when Bevis had taken her out into the footpath, and set her
down, and stroked her back, and her long ears, black at the tip, and had
told her to go straight up the footpath, and not through the long
grass, because it was wet with the rain, the hare told him how she came
in the wire through the wicked weasel telling her that he was lost in
the copse.

"I was not lost," said Bevis; "I went to bed, and saw the owl go by. The
weasel told another of his stories--now, I remember, he told me to set
the trap for the rat."

"Did he?" said the hare; "then you may depend it is some more of his
dreadful wickedness; there will be no peace in the world while he is
allowed to go roaming about."

"No," said Bevis, "that there will not: but as sure as my papa's gun,
which is the best gun in the country, as sure as my papa's gun I will
kill him the next time I see him. I will not listen to the squirrel, I
will cut the weasel's tree down, and chop off his head."

"I hope you will, dear," said the hare. "But now I must be go