sary. He disliked Mr. Sewer Rat and all his tribe, for they had
often made their way into the old woman's backyard to annoy the young
bunnies. Besides his bad manners and uncouth ways, the Sewer Rat was
disgustingly dirty in his habits. How could he be otherwise when he chose
to live in sewers rather than in clean quarters above ground?

"Why were _you_ running so fast?" asked Bumper, not willing to admit the
rat had frightened him.

"Just to frighten you," was the retort. "I wanted to give you the scare of
your life, and I guess I did."

"Oh, no," replied Bumper, assuming an air of dignity. "I wasn't really
frightened so long as I knew you were behind me. Carlo couldn't catch me
until he nabbed you."

"Carlo! Who's Carlo!" demanded the Sewer Rat, pretending ignorance.

"Oh! Ho!" laughed Bumper. "Don't pretend that Carlo, the dog, wasn't after
you. Didn't I see him chase you in the hole? And how frightened you
looked! Why, it nearly made me die with laughter."

Mr. Sewer Rat puffed up his cheeks and gnashed his long, white teeth
angrily. Bumper's fling had hit the mark.

"If Carlo ever touches me," he said, "I'll bite his nose so he'll remember
it. Who's afraid of an old dog like Carlo?"

"You are, I should say," smiled the white rabbit.

The Sewer Rat started to deny this, and then thought better of it. "Well,
I wasn't more frightened than you, Mr. White Rabbit. You're as pale as a
ghost this very minute."

"That's a good one," laughed Bumper. "Pale as a ghost! Why, I'm whiter
than snow all the time. How could I get paler?"

Mr. Sewer Rat gnashed his teeth again, and swished his long tail. He was
plainly angry and discomfitted. So he retorted maliciously:

"You're not white at all. You're so dirty your own mother wouldn't know
you. White! Oh! Ho! Ho! I wish you could see yourself."

Bumper did see himself, or, at least, a part of himself. Both front paws
were muddy; his long ears were covered with iron rust; his fat cheeks were
dusty and cobwebby, and to the ends of his whiskers clung specks of dirt.
In his progress through the drain-pipe he had accumulated sufficient dirt
to change his color from pure white to a rusty gray.

"I can soon clean myself," he remarked, "and the little girl with the red
hair will help me. Is that the hole that leads back to the garden?"

The Sewer Rat suddenly blinked his wicked little eyes. "Yes," he replied,
"if you know the right turns to take. If you don't you'll get los