The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies by Beatrix Potter

Books at Bedtime by Calming Anxiety, the tale of the Flopsy Bunnies by Beatrix Potter.

It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is soperific. I have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces, but then I am not a rabbit. They certainly had a very soperific effect on the Flopsy Bunnies. When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his cousin Flopsy.

They had a large family and they were very improved and cheerful. I do not remember the separate names of their children. They were generally called the Flopsy Bunnies. As there was not always quite enough to eat, Benjamin used to borrow cabbages from Flopsy's brother, Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden.

Sometimes Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare. When this happened, the Flopsy Bunnies went across the field to a rubbish heap in the ditch outside Mr. McGregor's garden. Mr. McGregor's rubbish heap was a mixture. There were jam pots and paper bags and mountains of chopped grass from the mowing machine, which always tasted oily and some rotten vegetable marrows and an old boot or two.

One day, I would joy, there were a quantity of overgrown lettuces which had shot into flour. The Flopsy Bunnies simply stuffed lettuces by degrees, one after another. They were overcome with slumber and lay down in the mowing grass. Benjamin was not so much overcome as his children.

Before going to sleep, he was sufficiently wide awake to put a paper bag over his head to keep off the flies. The little Flopsy Bunnies slept delightfully in the warm sun. From the lawn beyond the garden came the distant, clackety sounds of the mowing machine. The blue bottles buzzed above the wall, and a little old mouse picked over the rubbish among the jam pots.

I can tell you her name. She was called Tomasina Titelmouse, a wood mouse with a long tail. He russled across the paper bag and awakened Benjamin Bunnie. The mouse apologized profusely and said that she knew Peter Abbott.

While she and Benjamin were talking, close under the wall, they heard a heavy trade above their heads. And suddenly, Mr. McGregor emptied out a sackful of lawn mowings right upon the top of the sleeping Flopsy Bunnies. Benjamin shranked down under his paper bag. The mouse hid in a jam pot.

The little rabbit smiled sweetly in their sleep under the shower of grass. They did not awake because the lettuces had been so so horrific. They dreamt that their mother Flopsy was tucking them up in the hay bed. Mr. McGregor looked down after emptying his sack.

He saw some funny little brown tips of his sticking up through the lawn mowings. He stared at them for some time. Presently, a fly settled on one of them and it moved. Mr. McGregor climbed down onto the rubbish heap.

One, two, three, four, five, six little rabbits said he, as he dropped them into his sack.

The Flopsy Bunnies dreamt that their mother was turning them over in bed. They stirred a little in their sleep, but still, they did not wake up. Mr. McGregor tied up the sack and left it on the wall. He went to put away the mowing machine.

While he was gone, Mrs. Flopsy Bunnie, who had remained at home, came across the field. She looked suspiciously at the sack and wondered where everybody was. Then the mouse came out of her jam pot and Benjamin took the paper bag off his head and they told her the dull, full tail. Benjamin and Flopsy were in despair.

They could not undo the string, but Mrs. Tittle Mouse was a resourceful person. She nibbled a hole in the bottom corner of the sack. Those little rabbits were pulled out and pinched to wake them. Their parents stuffed the empty sack with three rotten vegetable marrows, an old blacking brush and two decayed pernips.

Then they all hid under a bush and watched for Mr. McGregor. Mr. McGregor came back and picked up the sack and carried it off. He carried it hanging down as if it were rather heavy. The Flopsy Bunnies followed at a safe distance.

They watched him go into his house and then they crept up to the window to listen. Mr. McGregor threw down the sack on the stone floor in a way that would have been extremely painful to the Flopsy Bunnies if they had happened to still be inside. They could hear him drag his chair on the flags and chuckle. "One, two, three, four, five, six little rabbits," said Mr. McGregor.

"What's that? What have you been spoiling now in quiet Mrs. McGregor?" "One, two, three, four, five, six little fat rabbits," repeated Mr. McGregor, counting on his fingers. "One, two, three, don't you be silly.

What do you mean you silly old man?" In the sack, "One, two, three, four, five, six," replied Mr. McGregor.

The youngest Flopsy Bunnie got upon the window, so Mrs. McGregor took hold of the sack and felt it. She said that she could feel six, but they must be old rabbits because they were so hard and all different shapes. Not fit to eat, but the skins will do fine to line my old cloak. Line your old cloak, shouted Mr. McGregor, "I shall sell them and buy myself back."

"Rab it to back home, I shall skin them and cut off their heads." Mrs. McGregor untied the sack and put her hand inside. Then she felt the vegetables. She became very, very angry. She said that Mr. McGregor had done it on purpose.

Mr. McGregor was very angry too. One of the rotten marrows came flying out through the kitchen window and hit young Flopsy Bunnie. It was rather hurt. Then Benjamin and Flopsy thought it was time to go home.

So Mr. McGregor did not get his tobacco and Mrs. McGregor did not get her rabbit skins. But next Christmas, Thomas Cena Tittlemouse got a present of enough rabbit wool to make herself a cloak and a hood and a handsome moth and a pair of warm mittens. And that was the tale of the Flopsy Bunnies by Beatrix Potter.