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stayed away from the Green Forest as long as he could. Then curiosity to see what was going on over there had been too much for him, and he had started over to visit Paddy the Beaver. He took great care to keep away from the great windfall where Mother Bear and the twins lived. As curious as he was about those twins, and much as he wanted to see them again, he was too much afraid of Mrs. Bear and her short temper to take any chances. But he felt that it would be quite safe to visit Paddy the Beaver, for Paddy’s pond was some distance from the great windfall.

Now Peter didn’t know that Mother Bear was in the habit of taking the twins with her wherever she went. It just happened that this very day she had chosen to go over near the pond of Paddy the Beaver. The twins had played until they were tired and then had curled up for a nap in a sunny spot while their mother went fishing in the Laughing Brook.

When Peter arrived in sight of Paddy’s pond Mother Bear was hidden behind some brush a little way up the Laughing Brook, and was sitting quietly waiting for a fish to come within reach. For once Peter was careless. He was so intent looking for Paddy the Beaver that he didn’t use his eyes and ears for other things, as he should have. So he passed within a few feet of the twins without seeing them. Just beyond he sat up to look over the pond for Paddy.

Now the twins slept each with an ear open, as the saying is, and they heard Peter pass. Open flew their eyes, and they saw at once that it was the terrible fellow who had so frightened them once. But somehow he no longer looked terrible. He was smaller than they had thought. In fact, they were now considerably bigger than he. You see, they had been growing very fast. Boxer’s eyes twinkled. Perhaps this fellow was like Chatterer the Red Squirrel, bold and terrible only to those who feared him. He nudged Woof-Woof. Very softly they got to their feet and stole up behind Peter.

A twig snapped under Boxer’s feet. Peter turned. His eyes seemed to pop right out of his head. With a squeal of fright, Peter jumped and started, lipperty-lipperty-lip, for the nearest pile of brush, and after him raced the twins. They knew now that this terrible fellow was more afraid of them than ever they had been of him, and they meant to get even for the fright he had given them when they were so little. It was great fun.

XI Peter Is in a Tight Place

When you are in a place that’s tight
It is no time to think of fright.

Mother Bear

Boxer and Woof-Woof were having no end of fun. Having chased Peter Rabbit under a pile of brush, they were now trying to catch him. It was even more fun than it had been to try to catch Chatterer the Red Squirrel in the top of a tree.

But for Peter Rabbit it was no fun at all. The truth is, Peter was in a tight place and he knew it. Never had he been more badly frightened. It would have been bad enough had there been only one little Bear. Two little Bears made it more than twice as bad.

In the first place they were very lively, were those two little Bears. Peter hadn’t known that little Bears could be so lively. You see, these were the first he ever had seen. The way in which they ran around that pile of brush showed how very quick on their feet they were. Peter didn’t doubt that he could outrun them if he could get a fair start; the trouble was to get that fair start. He wished now that he had trusted to his long legs instead of seeking shelter under that pile of brush. He had done that in the suddenness of his fright, when the little Bears had surprised him. It is Peter’s nature to seek a hiding-place in time of danger, and usually this is the wisest thing for him to do.

“I see him!” cried Boxer, poking his funny little head under the brush on one side. “I’ll crawl under and drive him out to you, Woof-Woof!”

On the other side of the brush pile Woof-Woof danced up and down excitedly. “I’ll get him! I’ll get him!” she cried. “Drive him out, Boxer! Drive him out!”

“Ouch!” cried Boxer, as a sharp stick scratched his face. “He’s crawling towards the end, Woof-Woof! Watch out!”

“Which end?” cried Woof-Woof, running from one end to the other and back again.

“Ouch! Wow! I’m stuck!” came the voice of Boxer. A minute later he backed out. “No use; I can’t get under there,” he panted. “I’ll jump on top, and see if I can’t scare him out that way.”

So Boxer climbed up on the pile of brush and jumped up and down, while Woof-Woof ran back and forth around the edge of the pile of brush, stopping to peep under at every opening.

“I see him! I see him, Boxer!” she cried, and began to wriggle in under the brush as Boxer had done.

But she didn’t go far. She soon found that Peter could get through places where she couldn’t. Besides, it seemed as if sharp sticks were reaching for her from every direction. Twice she squealed as she scratched her face on them. “How do you like it,” called Boxer, grinning at the sound of those squeals.

Woof-Woof backed out and brushed bits of bark from her coat, for she was much neater than her brother. “I tell you what,” said she, “let’s pull this pile of brush all apart. Then we’ll get him.”

So the twins set to work, one on one side and one on the other, to pull that pile of brush apart. Yes, Peter Rabbit

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