"I'm sure I don't know," was all Sammie could say.
"Do you know who I am?" asked the horned creature.
"No—no, sir."
"Well, I'm a deer."
"My—my mother calls me that, sometimes, when I've been real good," said Sammie.
"No, I don't mean that kind at all," and the deer tried to smile. "My name is spelled differently. I'm a cousin of the Santa Claus reindeer. But you must go now. No rabbits are allowed in the part of the park where we live. You should not have come," and the deer shook his horns at Sammie.
"I—I never will again," said the little rabbit boy, and then, before the deer knew it, Sammie jumped down his new burrow, ran along to the front door, and darted off toward home.
When he was almost there he saw a little brown bird sitting on a bush, and the bird seemed calling to him.
"Wait a minute, rabbit," said the bird. "Why are you in such a hurry?"
"Because I saw such a dreadful animal," was Sammie's reply, and he told about the deer.