"The sun was shining in my eyes," Peter Mink told him—and I shouldn't say that this answer of Peter's was any better than the first.
"Well—you can help me out of this bog, anyhow," Jimmy Rabbit said. "So please give me your hand. I'm pretty tired of being stuck here."
But Peter Mink never stirred. "Where's your lucky left hind-foot?" he asked. "I should think that could help you out, if anything could."
"The trouble is," said Jimmy Rabbit,[p. 104] "my left hind-foot is so deep in this mire that I can't pull it up where it can do me any good at all. It's the first time I've ever known it to fail me. And you can't really blame the foot, either, for it hasn't a chance. I don't suppose it even knows what a fix I'm in."
Still Peter Mink made no move.
"What are you waiting for?" Jimmy inquired. "I've been here long enough."
"Maybe you have—for you," said Peter Mink. "But you haven't been there long enough to suit me." And he pretended to start to go away.
Jimmy Rabbit called to him.
"I'll give you something, if you'll help me," he said.
Peter turned around.