ny; but right away he thought of the
little girl with the red hair. "Do you think she has plenty of money?" he
asked. "She was beautifully dressed, and had a rose in her hair."

"I don't know. Some people put all their money on their backs, and starve
their stomachs. It may be this girl was that kind."

Bumper was sure she was wrong, for the red-haired girl didn't look
starved; but she didn't have any of her birthday money left, and she
confessed she'd spent it all for cakes and candies. Bumper wondered if
she'd had anything to eat since, or if she was saving up her money to buy
him.

That night he had another dream in which the red-haired girl appeared; but
in the morning the old woman took him out of the box, and said: "It's your
turn, Bumper. I must sell you to-day. I need the money badly."

STORY III

BUMPER IS SOLD

Bumper was taken to the street corner with Fluffy, Dimples and Pickles. It
was a cloudy day, and the old woman limped as she walked along with her
basket on her arm. Damp weather always brought out her rheumatism, and
sometimes made her very cross.

Dimples and Fluffy began playing they were on a ship in a storm, and when
a drop of rain hit Pickles on the nose he squealed with delight, and
joined them in the game. They scampered around so lively inside that the
old woman stopped and opened the cover of the basket.

"Stop that!" she said quite angrily, "or I'll dump you all in the gutter!"

The threat was enough to send each to a corner of the basket, where they
eyed each other and tried to think up some less boisterous game. It was
beginning to rain steadily outside, and the water trickled through the top
of the basket. Every time a drop hit one, he squealed, but no one dared to
jump and run around.

Now rabbits don't sell very well on rainy days, especially white rabbits.
Their fur gets all wet and roughened up, and they look more like
half-drowned rats than pretty, fluffy bunnies. Fluffy was taken out of the
basket first, but nobody took any notice of her, and when she came back
she was all wet and shivery.

"B-r-r-r, it's awfully wet outside," she said, shaking with the cold. "I'm
glad nobody bought me, for I'd rather be in here safe and warm than in
somebody's arms."

Pickles's turn came next. He had an ingrowing toe nail, which sometimes
made him grouchy and sour, so he was dubbed Pickles. He looked and acted
like his name now. He squealed when the old woman picked him up in h