“It is I, neighbor,” answered a weak voice, sadly. “Please let me in! I am cold and hungry!”
Mr. Squirrel opened the door wide, and said: “Yes, come in, come in. It is a bitter cold night, to be sure. Come in and let me shut the door. My tail is nearly frozen just from standing here.”
Then there came hopping into the hollow of the tree trunk a rabbit. Poor Bunny Cottontail, how miserable he did look!
His coat was all dirty and ragged. And his poor little tail hung down behind instead of standing up straight and stiff, as a rabbit’s tail ought to do.
His ears drooped, and his whiskers were broken and limp. He had rheumatism in one hind leg, and his eyes, which should have been as bright as Mr. Squirrel’s, were dull and dim.
Altogether he looked as shabby and sad as a bunny could look—not at all like a respectable, well-brought-up rabbit.
Mr. Squirrel hastened to put poor Bunny into the warmest corner of the hollow. And Mrs. Squirrel brought him some food, which he ate eagerly.
The little squirrels were so astonished at the rabbit’s appearance that they did not know what to make of him.