A rabbit is the most timid creature in the world, but the devoted little mother will fight for her babies if she sees them in any danger.  When she burrows in the warm, sandy earth to make a snug home for her family, she strips the soft fur from her own breast to line the beds of grass for her little ones to sleep in.  Sometimes a mother rabbit’s chest is raw and bleeding for days after making her nest.  She is timid because she is so defenseless, but no one can call her a coward.  Timid folk are often braver in times of real danger than the strong and daring ones.

Rabbits require variety in their food as much as we do.  In summer there are many weeds which are a great treat to them.  Dandelion, plantain, clover, grass and hay, with an occasional sprig of parsley, will give them much pleasure.  In winter they may have carrots, turnips, and parsnips with barley meal and some oats.  Too much green food is likely to make them ill, and too much grain is equally harmful.  If we prevent them from finding their own food, we ought to give them the best we can, so that they may be well and happy.

DAVID’S STORY.

A man was fishing by the river.  Splashes near by, round the bend, sounded now and then.  David grumbled mildly to himself.  Voices rose suddenly, and the splashing ceased.  Presently a small boy came breaking through the bushes.

“Well, Sammy?” said David inquiringly.

“It’s mean,” said Sammy, in an explosive fashion.  “A boy came and spoiled all my fun.  Now I haven’t anything to do.”

“Too bad,” said David.  “How was it?”

“I was throwing stones at the biggest bullfrog you ever saw.  That boy came along and made him jump.”

“Anything else?” asked David.  His voice was calmly indifferent.

“He said I was a coward,” added the small boy.

“So you are!” said David.  “The meanest kind of coward I know.”

Sammy sat down on a flat rock to consider this astonishing remark.  David drew up a lively fish, which he killed with a sharp blow on the back of its head.

“What did you do that for?” asked Sammy, glad to change the subject.

“To save his feelings,” was the brief answer.

“Ho!” said Sammy contemptuously.  “He hasn’t any feelings.”

“Nonsense!” said David in sudden wrath.  “Does he wriggle?  Yes.  Why?  Because he suffers out of water.  I’ve caught him to eat, and I owe it to him not to make him suffer any more than is necessary.  What did that boy say to you about the frogs?”

“He said frogs were good for something in the pond.”

“So they are,” said David.  “When they are growing up they live on the decaying weeds and the rubbish which would be dangerous if left in stagnant water.  What else did he say?”

“He said they were pretty,” said Sammy scornfully.

“That’s true, too,” said David.  “That boy knew a good deal.  They are as handsome as they are harmless.  Did you ever know of a frog’s doing any harm?  Well, that’s more than can be said of boys.”