The Grey Story Book/Who Owned the Rabbit?

by Katherine Merritte Yates

Who Owned the Rabbit?

'LL give you a quarter for him, Jim."

Jimmie pursed up his lips and shook his head, while he hugged close to his breast a little panting white rabbit with the longest of ears and the pinkest of eyes.

"No, I can't, Paul."

"Why not?" and Paul wrinkled his brow quite savagely. "He isn't yours, anyway."

"I know it, but I ran the fastest and caught' him, and, if I had not got him just when I did, Brown's dog would have fairly eaten him up, poor little fellow," and Jimmie stroked the little thing affectionately.

"Well, of course you have the best right to him," acknowledged Fred, "but, you see, you live right in this block where we found him, so he belongs to some one near here, and if you keep him, folks will hear about it and take him away from you."

Jimmie opened his eyes very widely.

"Why, what did you boys think that I was going to do with him?" he asked in surprise.

"Keep him, of course," exclaimed both boys, and "Don't you like rabbits?" added Fred.

"Yes, I like rabbits," replied Jimmie slowly. "I have been just longing for months and months to have a dear little white fellow like this, but this one isn't mine, you know. I'll have to find out where he belongs and take him home."

"O pshaw!" exclaimed Fred, "don't you do it. Sell him to Paul for a quarter and you can buy that set of crayons that you wanted, and no one will know a thing about it, for Paul lives so far away that no one will ever recognize the rabbit."

"Come on, Jimmie, let me have him. I'll give you my box kite, too," coaxed Paul.

But Jimmie only stroked the fluffy white ball that nestled so closely in his arms.

"No, boys, I am going to begin right here and go to every house in the block until I find out where he belongs. I wouldn't steal him," indignantly, "but I do want him awfully," with a big sigh.

"It wouldn't be stealing, when you found him, and Brown's dog would have killed him if it hadn't been for you, but go on, be a baby if you want to. Come, Paul, let's leave him to look for Bunny's mamma; he is worse than any girl," and the two boys ran off down the street.

Jimmie swallowed the choke in his throat, and, with the rabbit in his arms, climbed the steps of the nearest house, rang the bell, and inquired if any one there had lost a white rabbit. No one had, nor in the next house, nor the next. However, Jimmie kept bravely on, climbing the steps of every house on both sides of the street for the whole length of the block, but to no purpose; no one seemed to own the rabbit, and at last Jimmie sat down on the steps of his own home, still hugging the homeless rabbit and thinking that he would rest for a few minutes and then try the next block.

"I am not tired," said Jimmie sturdily to himself, as he stroked the rabbit lovingly. "God's child can't be tired, for He said so, and the little bunny isn't lost, either. Nothing can be lost, in God's world, and I ought to know it. Now, Bunny, don't you worry, for you have a nice home, and God knows just where it is, and where you are, so you needn't ever think you're lost." He hid his face for a moment in the soft fur. "We're glad we know Christian Science, aren't we, Bunny?" he whispered, "for then we know we are always safe, and never tired or afraid."

Just then the door behind him opened and he heard Uncle Harry's voice speaking to Mamma:

"I am very sorry that it happened. Don't tell Jimmie, for he would be so disappointed. You see, it was of an extra fine breed and I paid a good price for it, for I knew that he had been wanting one for so long, and then to think that it should escape from the yard while I was looking for a box for him to keep it in. It is too bad."

Jimmie's eyes grew big as he listened, but Uncle Harry's grew bigger when a moment later, he turned and saw Jimmie sitting on the steps with the white rabbit in his arms.

Then followed the explanations of how Uncle Harry had bought the rabbit for Jimmie, and how it had escaped, and Jimmie told how he had saved it from Brown's dog and then scoured the neighborhood to find its owner.

"And to think," said he, hugging his treasure, "that I was your owner all the time, and just suppose that I had sold you to Paul for a quarter?"