A
S the bullfrog was not at
all inclined to be friendly,
he did not stop to dry
himself, but trotted on for quite a
while before he stopped in a sunny
spot and T
OOK off the
nice red coat
his Ma had
made for him and hung it on a
sumac bush to dry.
He was beginning to feel 
hungry and wondered where
all the good things were that
Susan Shrew-Mouse had
promised him. While wondering where he would find his luncheon, and wishing he
had not so hastily disposed of his nice turnip, he heard a funny little squeaking voice behind him. It seemed to be speaking as well as squeaking to him.
"How do you do, Peter Rabbit?" it said.
And turning around, Peter saw a plump little field-mouse sitting by the side of the path.
M
Y cousin, Susan Shrew-Mouse, sent me word by the carrier pigeon that you were coming this way. Pray come and have luncheon with me,” it said.
PETER Rabbit was certainly
delighted, for his little round tummy had started to give him some inside information, and it was of a kind that made him uncomfortable. He had never been hungry before, and he thought with regret of the good food his mother had always provided, and he began to see himself in the light of a very
ungrateful bunny, indeed. SUPPOSE he never
found his way home
and never saw his
Ma and Molly Cottontail
and the twins again?
Two
large
tears
rolled
down his
long
nose at
the
dreadful
thought. 
BUT the voice of Freddie
Field-Mouse broke in upon his gloomy reverie.
Luncheon was all laid out on a large,
flat stone under a shady green bush
and the two
furry friends
feasted
on crisp green lettuce, fresh pink
radishes and tempting yellow carrots. So long did they sit over the
meal that Peter discovered, much to
his dismay, that the sun was beginning to sink in the west.
