ay he happened to think that perhaps she might not be so pleased
after all, and the more he thought about it the more sure he was that
she wouldn't like her nice red-striped and spotted stove as well as a
black one; and, besides, she had told him _never_ to play with fire.

[Illustration: LITTLE JACK KNEW PERFECTLY WELL THAT SHE WASN'T AT ALL
PLEASED]

And just at that moment Mrs. Rabbit herself stepped in the door! And
when she looked at her red-spotted and striped stove and then at little
Jack Rabbit, little Jack knew perfectly well without her saying a single
word that she wasn't _at all pleased_. So he began to cry very loud, and
started to run, and tripped over his blocks and fell against a little
stand-table that had Mrs. Rabbit's work-basket on it (for Mrs. Rabbit
always knit or sewed while she was cooking anything), and all the spools
and buttons and knitting-work went tumbling, with little Jack Rabbit
right among them, holloing, "Oh, I'm killed! I'm killed!"--just
sprawling there on the floor, afraid to get up, and expecting every
minute his mother would do something awful.

But Mrs. Rabbit just stood and looked at him over her spectacles and
then at her red-spotted and striped stove, and pretty soon she said:

"Well, this is a lovely mess to come home to!"

Which of course made little Jack take on a good deal worse and keep on
bawling out that he was killed, until Mrs. Rabbit told him that he was
making a good deal of noise for a _dead_ man, and that if he'd get up
and pick up all the things he'd upset maybe he'd come to life again.

Then little Jack Rabbit got up and ran to his mother and cried against
her best dress and got some tears on it, and Mrs. Rabbit sat down in her
rocker and looked at her stove and rocked him until he felt better. And
by-and-by she changed her dress and went to cleaning her stove while
little Jack picked up all the things--all the spools and buttons and
needles and knitting-work--every single thing.

[Illustration: PROMISED NEVER TO DISOBEY HIS MOTHER AGAIN]

And after supper, when he said his prayers and went to bed, he promised
never to disobey his mother again.

A HOLLOW TREE PICNIC

A HOLLOW TREE PICNIC

THE LITTLE LADY AND THE STORY TELLER, AND THEIR FRIENDS

Not far from the House of Low Ceilings, which stands on the borders of
the Big Deep Woods, there is a still smaller house, where, in
summertime, the Story Teller goes to make up things and write