out the hutches for her before he started. Honeybird was quite content
to be left at home when she could play with the rabbits. She played
being mother to them. Mr Beezledum, the white Angora, was her eldest
son. Together, mother and son, they went to market to buy dandelions
for the children at home, bathed in the potato patch that was the sea,
and went to church under the hedge. It was the nature of children to
hate going to church, she knew, so when Beezledum struggled and
protested against having his fur torn by thorns she only gripped him
closer, and sternly sang a hymn. Beezledum suffered a great deal; for
Honeybird liked this part of the game best, and went to church more
often than to market. When Mick looked back from the far end of the
path as he started she was already under the hedge, with Beezledum
struggling in her arms. He heard her shrill voice singing: "Shall we
gather at the river?"

The day was warm and bright. The children tramped for miles, and it
was nearly eight o'clock when they came home, tired and hungry, and
clamouring for food. But the minute they saw Lull's face they saw that
something had happened. Her eyes were red with crying. Teressa was in
the kitchen too, wiping her eyes on the corner of her old plaid shawl.
It was Honeybird, Lull said when she could speak, for the sight of the
children made her cry again. Honeybird was lost; she had been missing
since dinner-time. Andy Graham and ould Davy were out scouring the
countryside for her. The children did not wait to hear more. They ran
at once to the grassy path where they had left Honeybird in the
morning. Mrs Beezledum was turning over half a ginger biscuit in her
hutch, the other rabbits were nibbling at the bars for food, but all
that was left of Honeybird and Mr Beezledum was a tuft of white fur in
the hedge. For a minute the children looked at each other, afraid to
speak. One of their terrors had come at last. Honeybird had been
stolen. Either the Kidnappers or the Wee People had taken her. The
children stared at each other's white faces as they realised what had
happened. If the Kidnappers, those tall, thin, half men, half devils,
had taken her they would carry her away behind the mountains, and there
they would cut the soles off her feet, and put her in a hot bath till
she bled to death. And if the Wee People had got her it would be to
take her under the ground, where she would sigh for evermore to come
bac