You cannot judge a person's temper by his size. There is more meanness
in the head of a Weasel than in the whole of a Bear.
Peter Rabbit.

Old Jed Thumper sat in his bull-briar castle in the middle of the Old
Pasture, scowling fiercely and muttering to himself. He was very angry,
was Old Jed Thumper. He was so angry that presently he stopped muttering
and began to chew rapidly on nothing at all but his temper, which is a
way angry Rabbits have.

The more he chewed his temper, the angrier he grew. He was big and stout
and strong and gray. He had lived so long in the Old Pasture that he
felt that it belonged to him and that no other Rabbit had any right
there unless he said so. Yet here was a strange Rabbit who had had the
impudence to come up from the Green Meadows and refused to be driven
away. Such impudence!

Of course it was Peter Rabbit of whom Old Jed Thumper was thinking. It
was two days since he had caught a glimpse of Peter, but he knew that
Peter was still in the Old Pasture, for he had found fresh tracks each
day. That very morning he had visited his favorite feeding ground, only
to find Peter's tracks there. It had made him so angry that he had lost
his appetite, and he had gone straight back to his bull-briar castle to
think it over. At last Old Jed Thumper stopped chewing on his temper. He
scowled more fiercely than ever and stamped the ground impatiently.

"I'll hunt that fellow till I kill him, or drive him so far from the Old
Pasture that he'll never think of coming back. I certainly will!" he