bottom.

Once more the thought of returning to the garden by the way he had come
occurred to him; but memory of the fierce bats and the Sewer Rat
immediately banished all ideas of this kind from his mind. "I'd never go
through that dark sewer again for anything," he said, shuddering. "I must
go on until I find another way back to the little girl."

Bumper's one desire was to return to Edith. He was sorry now that he had
ever jumped out of his pen. If he had been contented and stayed where the
red-haired girl had put him, he would be eating delicious grass and
vegetables now instead of lying there alone, hungry and afraid to go on or
go back.

His hunger came back to him, and gave him a sharp pain in the stomach. "I
must have something to eat," he said. "I'm nearly famished."

But there was really nothing in sight that he could eat--not a spear of
grass nor a leaf. Then, just as if to prove to him that manna sometimes
falls from heaven to feed even poor, destitute rabbits, a big leaf came
floating down on the wind and fell almost at his feet. Bumper grabbed it,
and began chewing it greedily.

"Oh, you mean, horrid thing!" chirped a voice. "That leaf belonged to me.
It was for my nest, and the wind blew it out of my bill."

Bumper looked up, and saw a small sparrow perched on the top of the
embankment over his head.

"I didn't know it was yours, Mrs. Sparrow," Bumper replied. "I thought the