Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not
care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood
outside the garden.
Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow
to frighten the blackbirds.
Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to
the big fir-tree.
He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the
floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.
His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his
clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter
had lost in a fortnight!
I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a
dose of it to Peter!
"One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time."
But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries
for supper.
* * * * *
THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS
Once upon a time there was a miller who lived in a little house beside
his mill. All day long he worked hard, but at night he went home to
his wife and his little boy.
One day this miller made up his mind that he would take his ass to
the fair and sell it.
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