“Pass it on,” said the Sentry.
“I shouldn’t think of doing that,” replied the Rabbit. “I don’t approve of telling people’s own particular little stories; they prefer the fun of relating them themselves. Look here, you go round for a moment or two and get him to let you hear it before he drops asleep again. It is an occasion to seize, for he is hardly ever awake when other people are, and he tells a story better than anyone else I know.”
“Well, I rather think I will,” answered the Sentry. “I’m very fond of a good story. You take my place whilst I’m away, there’s a good fellow. Here, put down your drum and take my bayonet.”
“Very good,” answered the Rabbit, and the Sentry hurried off.
The moment he had turned the corner the Rabbit set to work and spread gum all over the floor of the sentry-box. Then, standing outside, he took up the bayonet and mounted guard, first carefully hiding the tell-tale bottle behind a box of bricks. By and by the Sentry returned.
“Well, it was not a very good story after all,” he said rudely. “Thank you for nothing. Why aren’t you in the sentry-box? I am inclined to bayonet you for breaking your word.”
“I should not have been able to move about sufficiently,” the Rabbit answered. “I should have suffered from cramp.”
“Stuff and nonsense!” the Sentry replied. “I stand in it for hours at a time.”
