bit looked quite perplexed for a moment. "I think, dear," she
said finally, "you ask more questions than any child I ever had."

Bumper's eyes shone with amusement. "I have a million more of them to ask,
mother. I dreamt of them last night."

"Then," laughing at him, "find the answers to them in your dreams
to-night."

The next day Bumper had his turn, and then again the following day, but
each time he returned home unsold. Jimsy was bought by a little boy, and
triumphantly carried off, and Wheedles was captured by a girl. Even Topsy,
who was big and clumsy, found a purchaser, and disappeared from the
backyard. On returning home the fourth time, Bumper was in a disappointed
mood, and felt very unhappy.

"Why is it, mother," he asked, "that no one buys me? Am I so homely that
no one wants me?"

"What a question to ask, dear!" smiled mother rabbit. Then, patting him on
the head, she added: "Bend down your ears, and I'll whisper a secret in
them."

Bumper squatted down, and pulled both long ears toward his mother so he
wouldn't miss a word.

"It isn't good for little rabbits to hear what I'm going to tell you," she
whispered. "It often makes them proud and vain; but I suppose you will
know it some day."

Mother rabbit sighed, as if the secret was hard to tell, and not very
pleasant to hear. Mothers are very queer sometimes, even rabbit mothers.

"It's because you're so beautiful, dear!" she whispered finally. "You're
whiter than any of my children, and you have the softest fur, and the
pinkest eyes. Now do you understand?"

No, Bumper didn't understand a bit. He was more perplexed than ever. If he
was handsomer than other white rabbits, then why didn't people buy him
first? Why did they look at him, and return him to the basket, and say:

"I guess I'll take the other one?"

"It must be people don't know how pretty I am," he said finally. "What can
I do to make them see?"

Mother rabbit laughed until her fat sides wobbled like a fur muff filled
with playful kittens. "Dear, dear," she exclaimed, with tears in her eyes.
"I thought you would understand. It's because the people don't have the
money to give."

"Why don't they?" he asked, a little peeved. "Don't they have all the
money they want?"

"No, dear, not all of them. Some are nearly as poor as we are, and they
have to be careful of the pennies. That's why they don't buy you. The old
woman asks too much for you."

This didn't improve Bumper's temper a