|
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
THERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in
the beginning he was really splendid. He
was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be;
his coat was spotted brown and white, he
had real thread whiskers, and his ears were
lined with pink sateen. On Christmas
morning, when he sat wedged in the top of
the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly
between his paws, the effect was
charming.
There were other things in the stocking, nuts
and oranges and a toy engine, and
chocolate almonds and a clockwork
mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of
all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him,
and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner,
and there was a great rustling of tissue
paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in
the excitement of looking at all the new
presents the Velveteen Rabbit was
forgotten.
For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard
or on the nursery floor, and no one thought
very much about him. He was naturally shy,
and being only made of velveteen, some of
the more expensive toys quite snubbed him.
The mechanical toys were very superior,
| and looked down upon every one else; they
were full of modern ideas, and pretended
they were real. The model boat, who had
lived through two seasons and lost most of
his paint, caught the tone from them and
never missed an opportunity of referring to
his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit
could not claim to be a model of anything,
for he didn't know that real rabbits existed;
he thought they were all stuffed with
sawdust like himself, and he understood
that sawdust was quite out-of-date and
should never be mentioned in modern
circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden
lion, who was made by the disabled
soldiers, and should have had broader
views, put on airs and pretended he was
connected with Government. Between them
all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel
himself very insignificant and
commonplace, and the only person who
was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse.
The Skin Horse had lived longer in the
nursery than any of the others. He was so
old that his brown coat was bald in patches
and showed the seams underneath, and
most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled
out to string bead necklaces. He was wise,
for he had seen a long succession of
mechanical toys arrive to boast and
swagger, and by-and-by break their
mainsprings and pass away, and he knew
that they were only toys, and would never
turn into anything else. For nursery magic is
|
-1- |
very strange and wonderful, and only those
playthings that are old and wise and
experienced like the Skin Horse understand
all about it.
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day,
when they were lying side by side near the
nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy
the room. "Does it mean having things that
buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the
Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you.
When a child loves you for a long, long time,
not just to play with, but REALLY loves you,
then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he
was always truthful. "When you are Real you
don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being
wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin
Horse. "You become. It takes a long time.
That's why it doesn't happen often to
people who break easily, or have sharp
edges, or who have to be carefully kept.
Generally, by the time you are Real, most of
your hair has been loved off, and your eyes
drop out and you get loose in your joints and
very shabby. But these things don't matter at
all, because once you are Real you can't be
ugly, except to people who don't
understand."
"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit.
And then he wished he had not said it, for he
thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.
But the Skin Horse only smiled.
"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said.
"That was a great many years ago; but once
| you are Real you can't become unreal
again. It lasts for always."
The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a
long time before this magic called Real
happened to him. He longed to become
Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the
idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes
and whiskers was rather sad. He wished
that he could become it without these
uncomfortable things happening to him.
There was a person called Nana who ruled
the nursery. Sometimes she took no notice
of the playthings lying about, and
sometimes, for no reason whatever, she
went swooping about like a great wind and
hustled them away in cupboards. She called
this "tidying up," and the playthings all hated
it, especially the tin ones. The Rabbit didn't
mind it so much, for wherever he was
thrown he came down soft.
One evening, when the Boy was going to
bed, he couldn't find the china dog that
always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry,
and it was too much trouble to hunt for china
dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked
about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard
stood open, she made a swoop.
"Here," she said, "take your old Bunny! He'll
do to sleep with you!" And she dragged the
Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the
Boy's arms.
That night, and for many nights after, the
Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At
first he found it uncomfortable, for the Boy
hugged him very tight, and sometimes he
rolled over on him, and sometimes he
pushed him so far under the pillow that the
Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he
missed, too, those long moonlight hours in
the nursery, when all the house was silent,
and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very
|
-2- |
soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to
talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him
under the bedclothes that he said were like
the burrow the real rabbits lived in. And they
had splendid games together, in whispers,
when Nana had gone away to her supper
and left the night-light burning on the
mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped
off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down
close under his little warm chin and dream,
with the Boy's hands clasped close round
him all night long.
And so time went on, and the little Rabbit
was very happy--so happy that he never
noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was
getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail
becoming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed
off his nose where the Boy had kissed him.
Spring came, and they had long days in the
garden, for wherever the Boy went the
Rabbit went too. He had rides in the
wheelbarrow, and picnics on the grass, and
lovely fairy huts built for him under the
raspberry canes behind the flower border.
And once, when the Boy was called away
suddenly to go to tea, the Rabbit was left out
on the lawn until long after dusk, and Nana
had to come and look for him with the
candle because the Boy couldn't go to
sleep unless he was there. He was wet
through with the dew and quite earthy from
diving into the burrows the Boy had made
for him in the flower bed, and Nana
grumbled as she rubbed him off with a
corner of her apron.
"You must have your old Bunny!" she said.
"Fancy all that fuss for a toy!"
"Give me my Bunny!" he said. "You mustn't
say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!"
When the little Rabbit heard that he was
happy, for he knew what the Skin Horse had
| said was true at last. The nursery magic had
happened to him, and he was a toy no
longer. He was Real. The Boy himself had
said it.
That night he was almost too happy to
sleep, and so much love stirred in his little
sawdust heart that it almost burst. And into
his boot-button eyes, that had long ago lost
their polish, there came a look of wisdom
and beauty, so that even Nana noticed it
next morning when she picked him up, and
said, "I declare if that old Bunny hasn't got
quite a knowing expression!"
Chapter 2
That was a wonderful Summer!
Near the house where they lived there was a
wood, and in the long June evening the Boy
liked to go there after tea to play. He took
the Velveteen Rabbit with him, and before
he wandered off to pick flowers, or play at
brigands among the trees, he always made
the Rabbit a little nest somewhere among
the bracken, where he would be quite cosy,
for he was a kind-hearted little boy and he
liked Bunny to be comfortable. One
evening, while the Rabbit was lying there
alone, watching the ants that ran to and fro
between his velvet paws in the grass, he
saw two strange beings creep out of the tall
bracken near him.
They were rabbits like himself, but quite
furry and brand-new. They must have been
very well made, for their seams didn't show
at all, and they changed shape in a queer
way when they moved; one minute they
were long and thin and the next minute fat
and bunchy, instead of always staying the
same like he did. Their feet padded softly
on the ground, and they crept quite close to
him, twitching their noses, while the Rabbit
stared hard to see which side the clockwork
|
-3- |
stuck out, for he knew that people who jump
generally have something to wind them up.
But he couldn't see it. They were evidently a
new kind of rabbit altogether.
They stared at him, and the little Rabbit
stared back. And all the time their noses
twitched.
"Why don't you get up and play with us?" one
of them asked.
"I don't feel like it," said the Rabbit, for he
didn't want to explain that he had no
clockwork.
"Ho!" said the furry rabbit. "It's as easy as
anything," And he gave a big hop sideways
and stood on his hind legs.
"I don't believe you can!" he said.
"I can!" said the little Rabbit. "I can jump
higher than anything" He meant when the
Boy threw him, but of course he didn't want
to say so.
"Can you hop on your hind legs?" asked the
furry rabbit?
That was a dreadful question, for the
Velveteen rabbit had no hind legs at all! The
back of him was made all in one piece, like
a pincushion. He sat still in the bracken, and
hoped that the other rabbit wouldn't notice.
"I don't want to!" he said again.
But the wild rabbits have very sharp eyes.
And this one stretched out his neck and
looked.
"He hasn't got any hind legs" he called out.
"Fancy a rabbit without any hind legs" And
he began to laugh.
| "I have!" cried the little Rabbit. "I have got
hind legs! I am sitting on them"
"Then stretch them out and show me, like
this!" said the wild rabbit. And he began to
whirl around and dance, till the little Rabbit
got quite dizzy.
"I don't like dancing," he said. "I'd rather sit
still!"
But all the while he was longing to dance,
for a funny new tickly feeling ran through
him, and he felt he would give anything in
the world to be able to jump about like these
rabbits did.
The strange rabbit stopped dancing, and
came quite close. He came so close this
time that his long whiskers brushed the
Velveteen Rabbit's ear, and then he
wrinkled his nose suddenly and flattened his
ears and jumped backwards.
"He doesn't smell right!" he exclaimed. "He
isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!"
"I am Real!" said the little Rabbit. "I am Real!
The Boy said so!" And he nearly began to
cry.
Just then there was a sound of footsteps,
and the Boy ran past near them, and with a
stamp of feet and a flash of white tails the
two strange rabbits disappeared.
"Come back and play with me!" called the
little Rabbit. "Oh, do come back! I know I am
Real!"
But there was no answer, only the little ants
ran to and fro, and the bracken swayed
gently where the two strangers had passed.
The Velveteen Rabbit was all alone.
"Oh, dear!" he thought. "Why did they run
|
-4- |
away like that? Why couldn't they stop and
talk to me?"
For a long time he lay very still, watching the
bracken, and hoping that they would come
back. But they never returned, and presently
the sun sank lower and the little white moths
fluttered out, and the Boy came and carried
him home.
Chapter 3
Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew
very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him
just as much. He loved him so hard that he
loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining
to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots
faded. He even began to lose his shape,
and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any
more, except to the Boy. To him he was
always beautiful, and that was all that the
little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind
how he looked to other people, because the
nursery magic had made him Real, and
when you are Real shabbiness doesn't
matter.
And then, one day, the Boy was ill.
His face grew very flushed, and he talked in
his sleep, and his little body was so hot that
it burned the Rabbit when he held him lose.
Strange people came and went in the
nursery, and a light burned all night and
through it all the little Velveteen Rabbit lay
there, hidden from sight under the
bedclothes, and he never stirred, for he was
afraid that if they found him some one might
take him away, and he knew that the Boy
needed him.
It was a long weary time, for the Boy was
too ill to play, and the little Rabbit found it
rather dull with nothing to do all day long. But
he snuggled down patiently, and looked
| forward to the time when the Boy should be
well again, and they would go out in the
garden amongst the flowers and the
butterflies and play splendid games in the
raspberry thicket like they used to. All sorts
of delightful things he planned, and while
the Boy lay half asleep he crept up close to
the pillow and whispered them in his ear.
And presently the fever turned, and the Boy
got better. He was able to sit up in bed and
look at picture-books, while the little Rabbit
cuddled close at his side. And one day, they
let him get up and dress.
It was a bright, sunny morning, and the
windows stood wide open. They had
carried the Boy out on the balcony, wrapped
in a shawl, and the little Rabbit lay tangled
up among the bedclothes, thinking.
The Boy was going to the seaside to-
morrow. Everything was arranged, and now
it only remained to carry out the doctor's
orders. They talked about it all, while the
little Rabbit lay under the bedclothes, with
just his head peeping out, and listened. The
room was to be disinfected, and all the
books and toys that the Boy had played with
in bed must be burnt.
"Hurrah!" thought the little Rabbit. "To-
morrow we shall go to the seaside!" For the
boy had often talked of the seaside, and he
wanted very much to see the big waves
coming in, and the tiny crabs, and the sand
castles.
Just then Nana caught sight of him.
"How about his old Bunny?" she asked.
"That?" said the doctor. "Why, it's a mass of
scarlet fever germs!--Burn it at once. What?
Nonsense! Get him a new one. He mustn't
have that any more!"
|
-5- |
And so the little Rabbit was put into a sack
with the old picture-books and a lot of
rubbish, and carried out to the end of the
garden behind the fowl-house. That was a
fine place to make a bonfire, only the
gardener was too busy just then to attend to
it. He had the potatoes to dig and the green
peas to gather, but next morning he
promised to come early and burn the whole
lot.
That night the Boy slept in a different
bedroom, and he had a new bunny to sleep
with him. It was a splendid bunny, all white
plush with real glass eyes, but the Boy was
too excited to care very much about it. For
to-morrow he was going to the seaside,
and that in itself was such a wonderful thing
that he could think of nothing else.
And while the Boy was asleep, dreaming of
the seaside, the little Rabbit lay among the
old picture-books in the corner behind the
fowl-house, and he felt very lonely. The
sack had been left untied, and so by
wriggling a bit he was able to get his head
through the opening and look out. He was
shivering a little, for he had always been
used to sleeping in a proper bed, and by
this time his coat had worn so thin and
threadbare from hugging that it was no
longer any protection to him. Near by he
could see the thicket of raspberry canes,
growing tall and close like a tropical jungle,
in whose shadow he had played with the
Boy on bygone mornings. He thought of
those long sunlit hours in the garden--how
happy they were--and a great sadness
came over him. He seemed to see them all
pass before him, each more beautiful than
the other, the fairy huts in the flower-bed,
the quiet evenings in the wood when he lay
in the bracken and the little ants ran over his
paws; the wonderful day when he first knew
that he was Real. He thought of the Skin
Horse, so wise and gentle, and all that he
| had told him. Of what use was it to be loved
and lose one's beauty and become Real if it
all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear,
trickled down his little shabby velvet nose
and fell to the ground.
And then a strange thing happened. For
where the tear had fallen a flower grew out
of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all
like any that grew in the garden. It had
slender green leaves the colour of
emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a
blossom like a golden cup. It was so
beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry,
and just lay there watching it. And presently
the blossom opened, and out of it there
stepped a fairy.
She was quite the loveliest fairy in the whole
world. Her dress was of pearl and dew-
drops, and there were flowers round her
neck and in her hair, and her face was like
the most perfect flower of all. And she came
close to the little Rabbit and gathered him
up in her arms and kissed him on his
velveteen nose that was all damp from
crying.
"Little Rabbit," she said, "don't you know
who I am?"
The Rabbit looked up at her, and it seemed
to him that he had seen her face before, but
he couldn't think where.
"I am the nursery magic Fairy," she said. "I
take care of all the playthings that the
children have loved. When they are old and
worn out, and the children don't need them
any more, then I come and take them away
with me and turn them into Real."
"Wasn't I Real before?" asked the little
Rabbit.
"You were Real to the Boy," the Fairy said,
|
-6- |
"because he loved you. Now you shall be
Real to every one."
And she held the little Rabbit close in her
arms and flew with him into the wood.
It was light now, for the moon had risen. All
the forest was beautiful, and the fronds of
the bracken shone like frosted silver. In the
open glade between the tree-trunks the
wild rabbits danced with their shadows on
the velvet grass, but when they saw the
Fairy they all stopped dancing and stood
round in a ring to stare at her.
"I've brought you a new playfellow," the
Fairy said. "You must be very kind to him
and teach him all he needs to know in
Rabbit-land, for he is going to live with you
for ever and ever!"
And she kissed the little Rabbit again and
put him down on the grass.
"Run and play, little Rabbit!" she said.
But the little Rabbit sat quite still for a
moment and never moved. For when he
saw all the wild rabbits dancing around him
he suddenly remembered about his hind
legs, and he didn't want them to see that he
was made all in one piece. He did not know
that when the Fairy kissed him that last time
she had changed him altogether. And he
might have sat there a long time, too shy to
move, if just then something hadn't tickled
his nose, and before he thought what he
was doing he lifted his hind toe to scratch it.
And he found that he actually had hind legs!
Instead of dingy velveteen he had brown fur,
soft and shiny, his ears twitched by
themselves, and his whiskers were so long
that they brushed the grass. He gave one
leap and the joy of using those hind legs
was so great that he went springing about
| the turf with them, jumping sideways and
whirling round as the other did, and he grew
so excited that when at last he did stop to
look for the Fairy she had gone.
He was a Real Rabbit at last, at home with
the other rabbits.
Autumn passed and Winter, and in the
Spring, when the days grew warm and
sunny, the Boy went out to play in the wood
behind the house. And while he was
playing, two rabbits crept out from the
bracken and peeped at him. One of them
was brown all over, but the other had
strange markings under his fur, as though
long ago he had been spotted, and the
spots still showed through. And about his
little soft nose and his round back eyes
there was something familiar, so that the
Boy thought to himself:
"Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that
was lost when I had scarlet fever!"
But he never knew that it really was his own
Bunny, come back to look at the child who
had first helped him to be Real. |
-7- |
