"You wicked old cat," said little Luke, "drop it, drop it, I say." But
Old Klaws only growled and gripped the little rabbit tighter. Little
Luke seized the old cat by the back of the neck and choked him till he
let go. The little brown rabbit looked up at him with his big round
eyes, as much as to say, "Thank you, little boy, thank you." Then he
hopped off into the thicket of berry bushes, where Old Klaws could not
catch him again.

Little Luke went on down the path, through the garden gate, and into the
meadow beyond. All at once Bob Lincoln sprang up out of the grass right
before his feet.

Little Luke thought he would find Bob Lincoln's nest. So he got down
upon his knees and began to look about in the grass very carefully. He
did not find the nest, but he did find a fine cluster of ripe, wild
strawberries. He forgot all about the nest and began to pick and eat the
sweet berries. So he ate and ate till his lips and fingers were red as
red wine and smelled strongly of ripe strawberries.

Suddenly, as he put out his hand for another cluster, up sprang a black
and brown and yellow bird. That was Mrs. Bob Lincoln. Little Luke put
aside the grass and there was the nest. It was so cunningly hidden that
he could never have found it by looking for it.

Mr. and Mrs. Bob Lincoln were greatly frightened. They fluttered and
quivered about, and talked to each other, and scolded at the boy. Little
Luke could not understand what they said, but part of it sounded like,
"Let it be! Don't touch, don't touch! Go away, please, p-l-e-a-s-e, go
away." So he got up and said, "All right, don't be afraid. I'll not take
your eggs, I'll go right away." And so he did.