MY LITTLE THUMB
(In Rabbit School, Bunny Bright is reading this lesson from a Primer.)
Alas, there were hunters behind the pasture. They stalked us from the barnyard to the woods. Death already was inscribing our Rabbit names in her black book.
With dread I saw that my name also was written there. In a fright I raced homeward across the stubble. But a bullet overtook me. My poor thumb was shot off.
When my little paw saw its loss, it was in despair. It wept crimson tears for the vanished thumb. “Don’t cry, little one,“ said I. “We Rabbits have a hospital in the forest yonder. There you will get a bandage, and perhaps—who knows?—even a new thumb.“
The dear sun was making ready his bed in the red evening sky, when I knocked at the Doctor’s gate. The
