"Cruel, ma'm!" And the old woman who sold rabbits for a living stiffened her bent form, and frowned. She stretched forth a hand as if to reclaim her Bumper, but the lady moved away with her purchase under her arm.
"Oh, I'll see that he isn't cruel to Bumper," she said.
While listening to all this conversation, Bumper experienced strange and unusual emotions. He had learned more about white rabbits in a few moments than his mother had ever taught him in all the days of his youth. They were considered stupid, were they?—but cute and gentle. Huh! He wasn't stupid! No, indeed! If the lady thought so he'd show her what a mistake she'd made.
Just to prove it, Bumper began to gnaw at the lining of the muff, and pretty soon got his whole body under it, and then he began to kick and wriggle to get out. He felt he was being smothered alive, and he squealed aloud. The lady finally rescued him, but not until she had torn away half the lining from her muff.
"Oh, you stupid little Bumper!" she said, reprovingly. "You mustn't do such things!"
Bumper felt so crestfallen at this rebuke that he remained perfectly quiet during the rest of the walk. He snuggled up into the crook of her arm, and peeped out once only when they reached a big house and began ascending the steps.
So this was to be his future home! What a big place it was! Why, hundreds and hundreds of white rabbits could live in that house and never lack for elbow room.
Just then, when Bumper began to feel a little proud about his future home, a great noise and clatter behind the door startled him, and it opened so suddenly that he nearly popped out of the lady's arms. And what happened to him behind that door of the big house might fill chapters and chapters, but it will all be told in the next story.