"A little bunny," I said. "Once upon a time there was a little
bunny."

"A velly, velly vitty bunny," said Sara.

"Once upon a time there was a very, very little bunny, "I repeated,
emphasizing the very, very little," as Sara had done. She cuddled
into the bedclothes, evidently quite satisfied with the beginning
as it now stood. "And the very, very little bunny lived in a nice
hole --"

"A nice bed," said Sara, "a velly nice bed and not in a vitty bed,
but in a velly big bed, a velly, velly big bed with Aunt Woggles."

"In a nice big bed with Aunt Woggles," I said, "and he was a very
good little bunny."

At this Sara rose in the bed and looked at me very severely.

" Did he say his palayers eberly day?" she asked.

"No, not prayers, darling. Bunnies don't say prayers; children
say prayers."

"Naughty bunnies!" said Sara with great severity.

Dreading a religious discussion, which Sara loves, I proposed
changing the story to "The Three Bears." She acquiesced with
jumps of joy up and down, just where one would not choose to be