enirs. I never saw such lovely fur before."

"You can have one hair," laughed Bumper, "just to prove to you that I'm a
real live rabbit."

Mr. Pine Grosbeak took him at his word, and plucked a hair from his back.
It made Bumper wince.

"Surely you'll give me one, too, for my nest," added Piney the Purple
Finch, and without waiting for consent he plucked two. Rusty the Blackbird
came swooping down next. "I need some of your beautiful white fur to show
my little ones," he said. "I'll take three."

The other birds expressed their admiration, and then begged a few hairs,
too. There was Mrs. Crested Flycatcher, and Mrs. Phoebe Bird, and little
Towhee the Chewink. The process of extracting a few hairs from his back
caused Bumper exquisite pain, but he wanted to be obliging, especially as
the birds all admired and flattered him.

But when Mr. Woodpecker, who had been rapping on the dead trees of the
woods, appeared, Bumper decided it was time for him to call a halt.
"That's all I can spare," he said, and darted back into the hollow branch.

He was glad to make friends with the birds, but he didn't want to be
robbed of all the clothes he had.

STORY XIII

BUMPER NEEDS A DOCTOR

It was necessary for Bumper to show a certain amount of firmness with his
newly-made friends, and when he finally emerged from the hollow branch
again he made a little speech to the birds.

"If you don't mind, dear friends," he said, "I must ask you to stop
plucking me any more. I really can't afford to lose my fur. It's all the
protection I have from the rain, and when winter comes I'll need it to
keep me warm."

"But a few hairs to line my nest with won't hurt you," pleaded Mrs.
Phoebe Bird.

"No," replied Bumper firmly, "if I let you have some I must do the same to
all the others, and I don't want to offend Towhee the Chewink or Mr.
Crested Flycatcher or any of the others. I want to be friends with all of
you."

The justice of this was recognized by all the birds, and they decided not
to press the question; but they were voluble with their expressions of
admiration.

"I never saw such beautiful pink eyes before," remarked Piney the Purple
Finch.

"Nor such snow-white fur," added Mr. Pine Grosbeak.

"I never knew there was such a thing as a white rabbit in the world," said
Rusty the Blackbird.

Bumper could not feel other than puffed up by such remarks, but he tried
to hide it from his new friends.

"Are all the rabbits