“The same way we got here, I guess. Magic.”
“There isn’t any such thing,” said Mary trying to be practical but she might as well have said, “There isn’t any such thing as air,” for it was all around them. First the glasses, then the house and now the rabbit. Muffs stroked his silky ears and they flattened down on his round little body so that he looked like a soft white ball.
“I never had a pet,” she said. “You have your white cat, Mary. And Tommy has Thomas Junior and now I have Bunny Bright Eyes.”
“The name fits him,” said Tommy.
“Just the same you can’t keep him,” Mary declared. “The Bramble Bush Man will know.”
“Oh,” she cried. “I hope we never meet him. He’ll be madder than ever if he thinks I stole his rabbit and we can’t take it back when the house is gone.”
“I think we’re dreaming,” Tommy announced loud enough to wake himself up if he had been.
“Maybe it’s the glasses,” suggested Mary. “Feel in your pocket, Tommy, and see if you still have them.”
Yes, the glasses were there, their thick lenses looking more like eyes than ever. It wasn’t nice, having the eyes of a wondrous wise man watching everything the children did. They made things look bigger. Even the naughty things they had done that day looked much, much bigger through the glasses.
“I’d like to get rid of them,” Tommy confided.