had seen him. He forgot to go carefully as he had been taught, and ran like a jack-rabbit. But the more he ran the further away the bush seemed.
Finally he sat down in a clump of bushes to think. How had he come? What had he seen by the way? Where was the bush? His mother must have returned by this time. She would be very angry with him for running away. What a bad little rabbit he had been. He wished with all his heart that he was back in the burrow with the rest of the litter.
Just at this point in his thoughts he noted a large white round ball sticking to the side of an old log. He had never seen such a ball as that. It was very strange; he would see what it was. His mother had told the rabbit family that whenever they saw anything that was strange to be very cautious in approaching it, or even better to let it alone.
But the spirit of mischief was on Bunnyboy this morning or else he would never have run away. So he approached the ball slowly, stopping to sniff the air and to listen. There was
