One day as Lightfoot was eating some blackberries in the way Dido, the dancing bear, had taught him, he heard a noise in the bushes as though some one were coming through.
“Oh, maybe that is the dancing bear!” exclaimed the lonesome goat. “I hope it is.”
An animal presently jumped through the bushes out on the path and stood looking at Lightfoot; but at first glance the leaping goat saw that it was not Dido. It was a small white animal, with very large ears, one of which drooped over, giving the animal a comical look.
“Hello!” exclaimed Lightfoot in a friendly voice. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
“Maybe not,” was the answer. “But I’ve seen you, or some one like you. A boy, in whose woodshed I once lived, had a goat like you.”
“Was his name Mike?” asked Lightfoot eagerly. And then he knew it could not be, for he knew his Mike had no such animal as this.
“No, his name was not Mike,” was the answer. “But what is your name?”
“Lightfoot.”
“Mine’s Flop Ear, and I’m a rabbit. A funny rabbit some folks call me. I’m in a book.”
“This is queer,” said Lightfoot. “You speak about being in a book. So did Dido, the dancing bear.”