To sing my sweetest song.
For discontent, my little boy,
Will often set you wrong.”
“I’m not discontented,” replied the little bunny boy, “I’m happy. Father is going to take me to the circus,” and he hopped down the path through the bramble bushes.
“Timmie Meadowmouse, Timmie Meadowmouse!”
“What do you want?” asked the tiny mouse, peeking out of his little round house of woven grass.
“Want to go to the circus? Father is going to hire the Billy Goat Stage. We start at 7 to-morrow morning.”
“I’ll be up bright and early,” answered Timmie Meadowmouse, darting back into his little house to get out his best Sunday-go-to-meeting suit.
“Timmie Meadowmouse will go,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, hopping back into the house.
“Nobody will refuse, I imagine,” laughed Lady Love. “Whom else have you invited?”