when with your eyes you see a thing
yet can't believe it so,
pray tell me what you can believe.
i'd really like to know.
things are that way sometimes. they are so surprising that it doesn't seem that they can be true. just ask peter rabbit, or little mrs. peter. either one will tell you that they have had hard work to believe what their eyes saw. you see, it was this way: peter knew that somewhere near the dear old briar-patch was the home of bob white. anyway bob had said that it was near there, and he himself was never very far away. so peter didn't doubt that bob had told him the truth. no one would stay around one place day after day in the beautiful springtime, when everybody was busy housekeeping, unless his home was very near.
but peter had looked and looked for that home of bob white's without ever getting so much as a glimpse of it. he had watched bob white and had visited every place that he saw bob go to, but bob had managed to keep his secret and peter was no wiser than before, though he was thinner from running about so much. little mrs. peter had tried her best to make him see that it was no business of his. you see, she knew just how mrs. bob felt about wanting her home a secret, for little mrs. peter had had many anxious hours when her own babies were very small.
finally peter did give up, but it was because he had looked in every place he could think of and at last had made up his mind that if bob white really had a nest in the green meadows it certainly wasn't near the dear old briar-patch. then one morning a surprising thing happened. peter was just getting ready to run over to the laughing brook when some one right in front of him there in the old briar-patch exclaimed.
“be careful where you step, peter rabbit!”
peter stopped short and looked to see who had spoken. there, under a tangle of brambles, was little mrs. bob white. peter was surprised, for he had not seen her enter the dear old briar-patch.
“oh!” said he. then he bowed politely. “how do you do, mrs. bob white? i'm glad you've decided to make us a call. i hope bob is very well. i haven't seen him for several days, but i've heard his whistle and it sounds as if he were feeling very fine.”
“he is,” replied little mrs. bob. then she added anxiously, “do please be very careful where you step, peter.”
“why? what's the matter?” asked peter, looking down at his feet in a puzzled way.
just then mrs. peter, who had heard them talking, came hurrying up. mrs. bob white became more anxious than ever. “oh, mrs. peter, do, do be careful where you step!” she cried.
mrs. peter looked as puzzled as peter did. just then little mrs. bob uttered the softest, sweetest little call, and all at once it seemed to peter and mrs. peter as if the brown leaves which carpeted the dear old briar-patch suddenly came to life and started to run. peter's eyes almost popped out of his head, and he rubbed them twice to make sure that he really saw what he thought he saw. what was it? why, a whole family of the funniest little birds scurrying as fast as their small legs could take them to the shelter of mrs. bob's wings!
