he been bought for a cruel boy's birthday present.

Bumper wanted to run and hide. If it hadn't been for the fear of falling
to the hard floor, he would have jumped out of Mary's hands and scampered
away. But he had no chance to do this. There was another loud
racketty-rack-clumpity-bang! First a big tin dish pan rolled all the way
down the stairs into the hall; then a set of building-blocks, a wooden
hobby horse, a lot of animals from a Noah's ark, tin soldiers, a drum, and
a train of cars. Toby came last, sliding down the banisters, and shouting
in glee as he landed at the bottom.

"It was a landslide, Auntie!" he shouted. "We all slid down the mountain
together."

"Toby, how many times have I told you not to do that!" reproved Mary,
while Aunt Helen turned pale and stood stock still.

Toby paid no attention to the rebuke. He was a small, freckle-faced boy.
In one hand he held a whip, and in the other the broken head of a wooden
horse. He picked himself up, and began slashing his toys with the whip.
Bumper gave him one terrified glance, and made a desperate dive for Mary's
open waist. But Toby had sharp, bright eyes.

"What you got, Mary?" he shouted, running toward her, whip in hand. "Oh, a
rabbit! Yes, it is! You needn't hide him! I see him! It's a rabbit! Let me
have him!"

"Be careful, Toby, you'll tear my dress."

"Let me have him! He's mine."