The Complete Beatrix Potter Collection vol 5 : Tales & Original Illustrations - Beatrix Potter - E-Book

The Complete Beatrix Potter Collection vol 5 : Tales & Original Illustrations E-Book

Beatrix Potter

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Beschreibung

Dive into 3 captivating tales of unforgettable characters in Beatrix Potter's beloved collection! Unfold a world of wonder with Volume 5 in The Complete Beatrix Potter Collection! This charming ebook treasury features three delightful stories brimming with mischief, friendship, and exciting escapades: - The Tale of Mr. Tod: Will sly Mr. Tod outsmart the brave heroine, Mrs. Foxy? - The Tale of Pigling Bland: Embark on a whimsical journey with the forgetful Pigling Bland as he searches for his lost button. - The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse: Join Johnny Town-Mouse for a visit to his country cousin. Will city life or country charm win him over?Timeless Tales for Every Generation: Beatrix Potter's classic stories, paired with her iconic illustrations, continue to spark imaginations and create lasting memories for readers of all ages. This captivating collection is a perfect addition to any child's bookshelf, fostering a love of reading and encouraging a sense of adventure. The Gift of Storytelling: Share the magic of Beatrix Potter with your loved ones! This delightful volume is a wonderful present for young readers and Beatrix Potter fans alike. Don't Miss Out! Complete your Beatrix Potter collection today and continue the journey with Volume 5!

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Table of Contents
The Tale of Mr. Tod
Dedication
Frontispiece 1
Frontispiece 2
Titlepage
The Tale
The Tale of Pigling Bland
Dedication
Frontispiece
Titlepage
The Tale
The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse
Dedication
Frontispiece
Titlepage
The Tale

FOR FRANCIS WILLIAM OF ULVA

– SOMEDAY!

The Tale of Mr. Tod

  ( 1912 )

Ihave made many books about well-behaved people. Now, for a change, I am going to make a story about two disagreeable people, called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.

Nobody could call Mr. Tod “nice”. The rabbits could not bear him; they could smell him half a mile off. He was of a wandering habit and he had foxy whiskers; they never knew where he would be next.

One day he was living in a stick-house in the coppice, causing terror to the family of old Mr. Benjamin Bouncer. Next day he moved into a pollard willow near the lake, frightening the wild ducks and the water rats.

In winter and early spring he might generally be found in an earth amongst the rocks at the top of Bull Banks, under Oatmeal Crag.

He had half a dozen houses, but he was seldom at home.

The houses were not always empty when Mr. Tod moved out; because sometimes Tommy Brock moved in; (without asking leave).

Tommy Brock was a short bristly fat waddling person with a grin; he grinned all over his face. He was not nice in his habits. He ate wasp nests and frogs and worms; and he waddled about by moonlight, digging things up.

His clothes were very dirty; and as he slept in the day-time, he always went to bed in his boots. And the bed which he went to bed in, was generally Mr. Tod’s.

Now Tommy Brock did occasionally eat rabbit-pie; but it was only very little young ones occasionally, when other food was really scarce. He was friendly with old Mr. Bouncer; they agreed in disliking the wicked otters and Mr. Tod; they often talked over that painful subject.

Old Mr. Bouncer was stricken in years. He sat in the spring sunshine outside the burrow, in a muffler; smoking a pipe of rabbit-tobacco.

He lived with his son Benjamin Bunny and his daughter-in-law Flopsy, who had a young family. Old Mr. Bouncer was in charge of the family that afternoon, because Benjamin and Flopsy had gone out.

The little rabbit babies were just old enough to open their blue eyes and kick. They lay in a fluffy bed of rabbit wool and hay, in a shallow burrow, separate from the main rabbit-hole. To tell the truth – old Mr. Bouncer had forgotten them.

He sat in the sun, and conversed cordially with Tommy Brock, who was passing through the wood with a sack and a little spud which he used for digging, and some mole traps.

He complained bitterly about the scarcity of pheasants’ eggs, and accused Mr. Tod of poaching them. And the otters had cleared off all the frogs while he was asleep in winter – “I have not had a good square meal for a fortnight, I am living on pig-nuts. I shall have to turn vegetarian and eat my own tail!” said Tommy Brock.

It was not much of a joke, but it tickled old Mr. Bouncer; because Tommy Brock was so fat and stumpy and grinning.

So old Mr. Bouncer laughed; and pressed Tommy Brock to come inside, to taste a slice of seed-cake and “a glass of my daughter Flopsy’s cowslip wine”. Tommy Brock squeezed himself into the rabbit-hole with alacrity.

Then old Mr. Bouncer smoked another pipe, and gave Tommy Brock a cabbage leaf cigar which was so very strong that it made Tommy Brock grin more than ever; and the smoke filled the burrow. Old Mr. Bouncer coughed and laughed; and Tommy Brock puffed and grinned.

And Mr. Bouncer laughed and coughed, and shut his eyes because of the cabbage smoke…

When Flopsy and Benjamin came back – old Mr. Bouncer woke up. Tommy Brock and all the young rabbit babies had disappeared!

Mr. Bouncer would not confess that he had admitted anybody into the rabbit-hole. But the smell of badger was undeniable; and there were round heavy footmarks in the sand. He was in disgrace; Flopsy wrung her ears, and slapped him.

Benjamin Bunny set off at once after Tommy Brock.

There was not much difficulty in tracking him; he had left his footmark and gone slowly up the winding footpath through the wood. Here he had rooted up the moss and wood sorrel. There he had dug quite a deep hole for dog darnel; and had set a mole trap. A little stream crossed the way. Benjamin skipped lightly over dry-foot; the badger’s heavy steps showed plainly in the mud.

The path led to a part of the thicket where the trees had been cleared; there were leafy oak stumps, and a sea of blue hyacinths – but the smell that made Benjamin stop, was not the smell of flowers!

Mr. Tod’s stick house was before him; and, for once, Mr. Tod was at home. There was not only a foxy flavour in proof of it – there was smoke coming out of the broken pail that served as a chimney.

Benjamin Bunny sat up, staring; his whiskers twitched. Inside the stick house somebody dropped a plate, and said something. Benjamin stamped his foot, and bolted.

He never stopped till he came to the other side of the wood. Apparently Tommy Brock had turned the same way. Upon the top of the wall, there were again the marks of badger; and some ravellings of a sack had caught on a briar.

Benjamin climbed over the wall, into a meadow. He found another mole trap newly set; he was still upon the track of Tommy Brock. It was getting late in the afternoon. Other rabbits were coming out to enjoy the evening air. One of them in a blue coat by himself, was busily hunting for dandelions – “Cousin Peter! Peter Rabbit, Peter Rabbit!” shouted Benjamin Bunny.

The blue-coated rabbit sat up with pricked ears —