once more. Farmer Brown's boy sat
down with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He was
almost too much surprised to even think.

[Illustration]

VIII

PETER RABBIT GETS A DUCKING

Farmer Brown's boy sat with his chin in his hands staring at the new
pond in the Green Forest and at the dam which had made it. That dam
puzzled him. Who could have built it? What did they build it for? Why
hadn't he heard them chopping? He looked carelessly at the stump of one
of the trees, and then a still more puzzled look made deep furrows
between his eyes. It looked--yes, it looked very much as if teeth, and
not an axe, had cut down that tree. Farmer Brown's boy stared and
stared, his mouth gaping wide open. He looked so funny that Peter
Rabbit, who was hiding under an old pile of brush close by, nearly
laughed right out.

But Peter didn't laugh. No, Sir, Peter didn't laugh, for just that very
minute something happened. Sniff! Sniff! That was right behind him at
the very edge of the old brush-pile, and every hair on Peter stood on
end with fright.

"Bow, wow, wow!" It seemed to Peter that the great voice was right in
his very ears. It frightened him so that he just _had_ to jump. He
didn't have time to think. And so he jumped right out from under the
pile of brush and of course right into plain sight. And the very instant
he jumped there came another great roar behind him. Of course it was
from Bowser the Hound. You see, Bowser had been following the trail of
his master, but as he always stops to sniff at everything he passes, he
had been some distance behind. When he came to the pile of brush under
which Peter was hiding he had sniffed at that, and of course he had
smelled Peter right away.

Now when Peter jumped out so suddenly, he had landed right at one end
of the dam. The second roar of Bowser's great voice frightened him still
more, and he jumped right up on the dam. There was nothing for him to do
now but go across, and it wasn't the best of going. No, indeed, it
wasn't the best of going. You see, it was mostly a tangle of sticks.
Happy Jack Squirrel or Chatterer the Red Squirrel or Striped Chipmunk
would have skipped across it without the least trouble. But Peter Rabbit
has no sharp little claws with which to cling to logs and sticks, and
right away he was in a peck of trouble. He slipped down between the
sticks, scrambled out, slipped again, and then, trying to make a long
jump, he lost his balanc