Welcome,
Beautiful soul,
And thank you so much for joining me for a reading of The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter.
Beatrix Potter was born in London in 1866.
During her rather lonely childhood,
She studied art and natural history,
And she learned to love the countryside and its animal inhabitants during family holidays,
At first in Scotland,
And then in the Lake District.
The original Peter Rabbit was a household pet.
She wrote the celebrated Peter Rabbit story in a picture letter to the little son of her last governess,
And later turned it into a book,
Which was to be the first in her famous series of little tales.
When Beatrix Potter wrote and illustrated The Tale of Peter Rabbit,
She had little idea how popular this story,
And the twenty-two that followed it,
Would immediately become.
No other animal stories have so captivated the imagination of children and adults alike.
Today the tales are bestsellers all over the world,
Translated into many foreign languages for all of us to enjoy and share for generations to come.
What an incredible gift the imagination of Beatrix Potter has been to all of us.
And now,
Before we begin,
Take a moment and make yourself comfortable.
If you're sitting in your favorite chair,
Perhaps put your feet up and wrap a cozy blanket around your shoulders.
And if it's time for sleep,
And you're settling into bed,
Take a moment to stretch and take a deep inhale,
Which may turn into a yawn,
And as you release the stretch,
Simply allow your body to begin to relax into your comfortable bed.
The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter Once upon a time,
There were four little rabbits,
And their names were Flopsy,
Mopsy Cottontail,
And Peter.
They lived with their mother in a sandbank underneath the root of a very big fir tree.
"'Now,
My dears,
' said old Mrs.
Rabbit one morning,
"'you may go into the fields or down the lane,
But don't go into Mr.
McGregor's garden.
Your father had an accident there.
He was put in a pie by Mrs.
McGregor.
Now run along,
And don't get into mischief.
I am going out.
' Then old Mrs.
Rabbit took a basket in her umbrella and went through the wood to the baker's.
She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.
Flopsy,
Mopsy,
And Cottontail,
Who were good little bunnies,
Went down the lane to gather blackberries.
But Peter,
Who was very naughty,
Ran straight away to Mr.
McGregor's garden and squeezed under the gate.
First he ate some lettuces and some French beans,
And then he ate some radishes,
And then,
Feeling rather sick,
He went to look for some parsley.
But round the end of a cucumber frame,
Whom should he meet but Mr.
McGregor?
Mr.
McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages,
But he jumped up and ran after Peter,
Waving a rake and calling out,
"'Stop,
Thief!
' Peter was most dreadfully frightened.
He rushed all over the garden,
For he had forgotten the way back to the gate.
He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.
After losing them,
He ran on four legs and went faster,
So that I think he might have got away altogether,
If he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket.
It was a blue jacket with brass buttons,
Quite new.
Peter gave himself up for lost and shed big tears,
But his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows,
Who flew to him in great excitement and implored him to exert himself.
Mr.
McGregor came up with a sieve,
Which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter,
But Peter wriggled out just in time,
Leaving his jacket behind him,
And rushed into the tool shed and jumped into a can.
It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in,
If it had not had so much water in it.
Mr.
McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool shed,
Perhaps hidden underneath a flowerpot.
He began to turn them over carefully,
Looking under each.
Presently,
Peter sneezed,
And Mr.
McGregor was after him in no time,
And tried to put his foot upon Peter,
Who jumped out of a window upsetting three plants.
The window was too small for Mr.
McGregor,
And he was tired of running after Peter.
He went back to his work.
Peter sat down to rest.
He was out of breath and trembling with fright,
And he had not the least idea which way to go.
Also,
He was very damp with sitting in that can.
After a time,
He began to wander about,
Going lippity-lippity,
Not very fast,
And looking all round.
He found a door in a wall,
But it was locked,
And there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.
An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep,
Carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood.
Peter asked her the way to the gate,
But she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer.
She only shook her head at him.
Peter began to cry.
Many tried to find his way straight across the garden,
But he became more and more puzzled.
Presently,
He came to a pond where Mr.
McGregor filled his water cans.
A white cat was staring at some goldfish.
She sat very,
Very still,
But now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive.
Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her.
He had heard about cats from his cousin,
Little Benjamin Bunny.
He went back towards the toolshed,
But suddenly,
Quite close to him,
He heard the noise of a hoe.
Scritch!
Scratch!
Scratch!
Scritch!
Peter scuttered underneath the bushes,
But presently,
As nothing happened,
He came out and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over.
The first thing he saw was Mr.
McGregor hoeing onions.
His back was turned towards Peter,
And beyond him was the gate.
Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow and started running as fast as he could go along a straight walk behind some blackcurrant bushes.
Mr.
McGregor caught sight of him at the corner,
But Peter did not care.
He slipped underneath the gate and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.
Mr.
McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds.
Peter never stopped running or looked behind him until he got home to the big fir tree.
He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand of the floor of the rabbit hole and shut his eyes.
His mother was busy cooking.
She wondered what he had done with his clothes.
It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight.
I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
His mother put him to bed and made some chamomile tea,
And she gave a dose of it to Peter,
One tablespoonful to be taken at bedtime.
Flopsy,
Mopsy,
And Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.
The End.
Thank you so much for joining me.
Good night.
