The best kept secret soon or late
Will be found out as sure as fate.
Mother Bear.
Have you ever wanted to be in a number of places at the same time? Then you know exactly how Peter Rabbit felt in the beautiful springtime. You see, there was so much going on everywhere all the time that Peter felt sure he was missing something, no matter how much he saw and heard. In that he was quite right.
But you may be sure Peter did his best not to miss any more than he had to. He scampered lipperty-lipperty-lip this way, lipperty-lipperty-lip that way, and lipperty-lipperty-lip the other way, watching, listening, asking questions and making a nuisance of himself generally. For a while there were so many new arrivals in the Old Orchard and on the Green Meadows, feathered friends returning from the Sunny South and in a great hurry to begin housekeeping, and strangers passing through on their way to the Far North, that Peter hardly gave the Green Forest a thought.
But one moonlight night he happened to think of Paddy the Beaver and that he hadn’t seen Paddy since before Paddy’s pond froze over early in the winter.
“I must run over and pay him my respects,” thought Peter.
“I certainly must. I wonder if he is as glad as the rest of us that Sweet Mistress Spring is here.”
No sooner did he think of this than Peter started, lipperty-lipperty-lip, through the Green Forest for the pond of Paddy the Beaver. Now the nearest way was past the great windfall where Mrs. Bear made her home. Peter hadn’t thought of this when he started. He didn’t think of it until he came in sight of it. The instant he saw that old windfall he stopped short. He remembered Mrs. Bear and that he had heard that she had a secret. Instantly curiosity took possession of him. He forgot all about Paddy the Beaver.
For some time Peter sat perfectly still, looking and listening. There was no sign of Mrs. Bear. Was she under that windfall in her bedroom taking a nap, or was she off somewhere? Peter wished he knew. It was such a lovely night that he had a feeling Mrs. Bear was out somewhere. A hop at a time, pausing to look and listen between hops, Peter drew nearer to the great windfall. Still there was no sign of Mrs. Bear.