"It's because you're so beautiful, dear!" she whispered finally. "You're
whiter than any of my children, and you have the softest fur, and the
pinkest eyes. Now do you understand?"

No, Bumper didn't understand a bit. He was more perplexed than ever. If he
was handsomer than other white rabbits, then why didn't people buy him
first? Why did they look at him, and return him to the basket, and say:

"I guess I'll take the other one?"

"It must be people don't know how pretty I am," he said finally. "What can
I do to make them see?"

Mother rabbit laughed until her fat sides wobbled like a fur muff filled
with playful kittens. "Dear, dear," she exclaimed, with tears in her eyes.
"I thought you would understand. It's because the people don't have the
money to give."

"Why don't they?" he asked, a little peeved. "Don't they have all the
money they want?"

"No, dear, not all of them. Some are nearly as poor as we are, and they
have to be careful of the pennies. That's why they don't buy you. The old
woman asks too much for you."

This didn't improve Bumper's temper any; but right away he thought of the
little girl with the red hair. "Do you think she has plenty of money?" he
asked. "She was beautifully dressed, and had a rose in her hair."

"I don't know. Some people put all their money on their backs, and starve