There, just as he expected, he found a looking-glass. What was it like? Why, it was just a tiny pool of water. Yes, Sir, it was a quiet pool of water that reflected the ferns growing around it and the branches of the trees hanging over it, and Peter Rabbit himself sitting on the edge of it. That was Peter's looking-glass.
For a long time he stared into it. At last he gave a great sigh. “My, but I am a sight!” he exclaimed.
He was. His coat was ragged and torn from the claws of Hooty the Owl and the teeth of Old Jed Thumper. The white patch on the seat of his trousers was stained and dirty from sitting down in the mud. There were burrs tangled in his waistcoat. He was thin and altogether a miserable looking Rabbit.
“It must be that Miss Fuzzytail just pities me. She certainly can't admire me,” muttered Peter, as he pulled out the burrs.
For the next hour Peter was very busy. He washed and he brushed and he combed. When, at last, he had done all that he could, he took another look in his looking-glass, and what he saw was a very different looking Rabbit.
“Though I am homely, lank and lean,
I can at least be neat and clean,”
said he, as he started back for the sunning-bank.