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A CANDY RABBIT
meant that he would be glad to eat the grass.
"But I hope he doesn't eat me!" thought the Candy Rabbit. "It is lucky I can speak and understand animal talk. When I get in the pony's stall I'll call out and ask him not to chew me up with the grass."
But the Candy Rabbit did not have to do this. For when Patrick began to take from the wheelbarrow the grass he had gathered for the pony, the gardener saw something gleaming in the sunshine amid the green stems.
"Hello! what's this?" cried Patrick, leaning over to take a better look. "What's this in my grass? Can it be a glass bottle? If it is it's a good thing I didn't give it to the pony, or he might have cut himself on it."
Patrick took the shining object from the
