"Why, that is simple enough," Mother rabbit answered, having had time to
think. "When you were only a little snowball, we had to hang you up to
dry, and that pulled your ears out."

That was an answer good enough for any rabbit, and Bumper should have been
satisfied, but he had a very inquisitive mind.

"But why didn't I melt when I was hung up to dry?" he asked quickly.
"Snowballs melt in the sun, don't they?"

"Yes," gravely, "so they do, dear, if you leave them in the sun too long.
But it was mother's business to see that you didn't melt. It's like baking
bread or cake. If you leave the dough in the oven too long it burns up,
and then it isn't either bread or cake. It's very hard to know just when
it's done, and it's harder"--sighing aloud--"for mothers to know just when
a snowball is turning into a white rabbit, and when it's beginning to melt
away into nothing. Now don't ask me any more questions to-night. It's bed
time, and little rabbits with pink eyes should be fast asleep."

Which was true, but Bumper went to sleep dreaming of a million questions
he would ask his mother in the morning.




STORY II

WHY BUMPER WAS LEFT AT HOME