The lady stopped long enough to let her umbrella drip all over the basket, and then she asked: "Are they white rabbits? I don't want any other kind."
"Yes, ma'm, pure white bunnies, with pink eyes, and long, fluffy ears—the dearest and cutest little things you ever saw. Let me show you."
With that she made a grab in the basket. It was a blind-man's bluff grab, for she couldn't see one of the rabbits huddling in the corners. Bumper was the nearest, and her hand closed over him.
"That's the prettiest one I have, ma'm," she said. "He's my pet, an' I hate to sell him, but I need the money an' you can have him."
It was raining pitchforks outside, or something like that, and, for a moment, Bumper couldn't see anything but the big drops of water splashing in his eyes. Then the lady held the umbrella over his head, and he looked up into her face. She was a sweet, womanly lady, but not exactly the kind of mistress Bumper had pictured belonging to.
"He is a dear little thing," the lady said, taking him in her arms and rubbing his back. "And so friendly! Why, he's trying to cuddle up under my arm."
The fact was, Bumper was trying to get in her muff away from the dripping umbrella. He made a dive for the nearest open end, and squeezed all but his tail through.
"How cute of him! I believe I must take him. How much is he?"
Now Bumper's heart nearly stopped beating when he heard the lady ask this question, for had not his mother told him that he cost too much money for most people to buy? Did this lady have plenty of money, or did she put it all on her back and starve her stomach? She was beautifully dressed, and her cheeks were not very plump and fat—not a bit like those of the red-headed girl with a freckle on the end of her nose.
"Two dollars, ma'm, an' he's cheap at that! You don't find rabbits like him once in a year."