I'm almost afraid to let Toby have him now that I've brought
him home. Do you think he'll be rough with him?"

Mary's face turned very grave and serious. "He's pretty young to have a
rabbit, Aunt Helen. If he should drop him--or--or--Well, we must teach him
to be very careful."

"Yes, I will speak to him myself."

You can imagine the state of Bumper's feelings by this time. Toby was
undoubtedly a cruel boy--Aunt Helen had said as much, and Mary had
confirmed it--and they were both afraid he was too young to own a pet
rabbit. What if he should drop him to the hard floor! Bumper peeked over
Mary's hands and looked below. The floor seemed a long distance away. If
he should fall it would very likely break a leg or his neck. Oh, why had
he been bought for a cruel boy's birthday present.

Bumper wanted to run and hide. If it hadn't been for the fear of falling
to the hard floor, he would have jumped out of Mary's hands and scampered
away. But he had no chance to do this. There was another loud
racketty-rack-clumpity-bang! First a big tin dish pan rolled all the way
down the stairs into the hall; then a set of building-blocks, a wooden
hobby horse, a lot of animals from a Noah's ark, tin soldiers, a drum, and
a train of cars. Toby came last, sliding down the banisters, and shouting
in glee as he landed at the bottom.

"It was a landslide, Auntie!" he shouted. "We all slid down the mountain
together."

"Toby, how many times have I told you not to do that!" reproved Mary,
while Aunt Helen turned pale and stood stock still.

Toby paid no attention to the rebuke. He was a small, freckle-faced boy.
In one hand he held a whip, and in the other the broken head of a wooden
horse. He picked himself up, and began slashing his toys with the whip.
Bumper gave him one terrified glance, and made a desperate dive for Mary's
open waist. But Toby had sharp, bright eyes.

"What you got, Mary?" he shouted, running toward her, whip in hand. "Oh, a
rabbit! Yes, it is! You needn't hide him! I see him! It's a rabbit! Let me
have him!"

"Be careful, Toby, you'll tear my dress."

"Let me have him! He's mine."

"No, no, Toby, don't touch him. Wait! I'll show him to you!"

But Toby was much too spry for Mary or Aunt Helen. He darted around back
of them, and caught Bumper by the tail--and you know a rabbit's tail is
the smallest part of him--and began pulling it. Bumper let out a squeal,
and pulled the other way with all his might.

"I go