The Monkey followed the Live Rabbit on down through the winding burrow.
It twisted and turned, this way and that, now to the right and now to
the left. Here and there, clinging to the earthen sides, were lightning
bugs, which made the place so bright that the Monkey did not stumble
once.

"But why does it twist and turn so, like a corkscrew?" the Monkey asked
the Rabbit.

"We always build our burrow caves like this, to keep out dogs and other
enemies," was the reply. "My real home is still a little farther on.
We'll be there in a moment."

The Monkey followed on, and soon came to a place where, seated about a
table made from a piece of a flat stump, were several little Rabbit
children and a lady Rabbit.

"This is my family," said the Live Rabbit. "Mrs. Hare, allow me to
present Mr. Monkey on a Stick, who has come to pay us a visit."

"Pleased to meet you," said Mrs. Rabbit, bowing low.

"Hi, Daddy!" called one of the little Rabbits, "where's his stick?"

And then everybody laughed.