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saw Peter poke his nose out to see if the way was clear. Old Man Coyote saw him too, and began to grin. It was a hungry, wicked-looking grin, and it made little Mrs. Peter very, very angry indeed.

She waited just a minute longer to make sure that Peter was where he could see her, and then she thumped the ground very hard, which, you know, is the way Rabbits signal to each other. Peter heard it right away and thumped back that he would stay right where he was, though right down in his heart Peter thought that little Mrs. Peter was just nervous and foolish, for he was sure that Old Man Coyote had given up and gone away long ago.

Now of course Old Man Coyote heard those thumps, and he knew just what they meant. He knew that he never, never could catch Peter so long as Mrs. Peter was watching him and ready to warn Peter, So he came out of his hiding-place with an ugly snarl and sprang toward little Mrs. Peter just to frighten her. He laughed as he watched her run and, all breathless, dive into the dear, Old Briar-patch, and then he trotted away to his favorite napping-place.

As soon as Peter was sure that he was safe he started for home, and there little Mrs. Peter scolded him soundly for being so heedless and thoughtless.

Peter didn’t have a word to say. For a long time he sat thinking and thinking, every once in a while scratching his head as if puzzled. Little Mrs. Peter noticed it.

“What’s the matter with you, Peter?” she asked finally.

“I’m just studying what Old Man Coyote means by telling me one day that he is my friend, and proving it by doing me a good turn, and then trying to catch me the very next time he sees me. I don’t understand it,” said Peter, shaking his head.

“Oh, you dear old stupid!” replied little Mrs. Peter. “Now, you listen to me. You did Old Man Coyote a good turn and he paid you back by doing you a good turn. That made you even, didn’t it?”

Peter nodded.

“Well, then you are right back where you started from, and Old Man Coyote doesn’t see any reason why he should treat you any differently than at first, and I don’t see why he should either, when I come to think it over. I tell you what, Peter, the thing for you to do is to keep doing good turns to Old Man Coyote so that he will always be in debt to you. Then he will always be your friend.”

As little Mrs. Peter stopped speaking, Peter sprang to his feet. “The very thing!” he cried. “It’s sort of a Golden Rule, and I do believe it will work.”

“Of course it will,” replied little Mrs. Peter.

XXVII Mistah Mocker Plays a Joke on Mrs. Peter

This little point remember, please⁠—
There’s little gained by those who tease.

Peter Rabbit

Mistah Mocker the Mockingbird had been very late in coming up to the Green Meadows from way down South. The truth is, he had almost decided not to come. You see, he loves the sunny southland so much, and all who live there love him so much, that if it hadn’t been for Unc’ Billy Possum and Ol’ Mistah Buzzard he never, never would have thought of leaving, even for a little while. Unc’ Billy and Ol’ Mistah Buzzard are particular friends of his, very particular friends, and he felt that he just had to come up for a little visit.

Now Mistah Mocker reached the Green Meadows just after Peter Rabbit had brought little Mrs. Peter down from the Old Pasture to live with him in the dear Old Briar-patch. He knew that little Mrs. Peter didn’t know anything about him, for he never had visited the Old Pasture where she had spent her life. But he knew all the bird people who do live there, for he had met them in the sunny southland, where they spent the winter.

“I believe I’ll go pay my respects to Mrs. Peter,” said Mistah Mocker one day, winking at Ol’ Mistah Buzzard. Ol’ Mistah Buzzard chuckled and winked back.

“Ah cert’nly hopes yo’all will behave yo’self right proper and not forget that yo’ is a member of one of the oldest families in the Souf,” said he.

Mistah Mocker looked quite solemn as he promised to behave himself, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as he flew toward the Old Briar-patch. There he hid in a thick tangle of vines. Now it happened that Peter Rabbit had gone over to the sweet-clover patch, and little Mrs. Peter was quite alone. Somehow she got to thinking of her old home, and for the first time she began to feel just a wee, wee bit homesick. It was just then that she heard a familiar voice. Little Mrs. Peter pricked up her ears and smiled happily.

“That’s the voice of Tommy Tit the Chickadee, and it must be that his wife is with him, for I hear him calling ‘Phoebe! Phoebe!’ How lovely of them to come down to see me so soon.”

Just then she heard another voice, a deep, beautiful, ringing voice, a voice that she loved. It was the voice of Veery the Thrush. “Oh!” cried little Mrs. Peter, and then held her breath so as not to miss one note of the beautiful song. Hardly had the song ended when she heard the familiar voice of Redeye the Vireo. Little Mrs. Peter clapped her hands happily. “It must be a surprise party by my old friends and neighbors of the Old Pasture!” she cried. “How good of them to come way down here, and how glad I shall be to see them!”

With that little Mrs. Peter hurried over to the tangle of vines from which all the voices seemed to come and eagerly peered this way and that way for a sight of her friends. But all she saw was a stranger wearing a very sober-colored suit. He was very polite and told

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