Having had a cold in one of his long ears, he had tied his gray felt hat, with its green feathers, tightly down under his chin.
On his feet he wore green-and-white striped socks, because he said they looked spring-like, and his coat was green-and-white striped linen, to match.
He carried a green parasol to protect his eyes from the sun, and on his back was strapped a cunning little knapsack.
In this he carried a bottle of Dr. Possum’s “Ready Relief,” a hair-brush, a small bottle of cayenne pepper, which by making you sneeze would cure a cold; an extra pair of socks; a smelling-bottle; some toothpicks; half a dozen acorns for luncheon; a pair of rubber shoes to keep his toe-toes dry if it rained; a piece of maple sugar for his little Rosamund; a couple of cabbage-leaves to put on his head if the sun was too hot; and, lastly, a tiny folding umbrella.
After a good many delays, they finally started; but when they had gone about a mile, Mr. Bunnikins-Bunny suddenly stopped, and insisted that he had forgotten something most important. What it was, he refused to tell, but back to the house he must and would go.
“Very well,” said patient Mrs. Bunnikins-Bunny, “it is already so late that we might as well have our luncheon here. By the time you come back, we shall be ready.”
Then Mrs. Bunnikins and the Gray-Squirrels unloaded the baskets, and set the table for luncheon.