Public-domain ebook

Nibble Rabbit Makes More Friends

Name: Nibble Rabbit Makes More Friends
Author: John Breck

by John Breck

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Language: en478 downloads on Project Gutenberg

Subjects

Animals -- Juvenile fiction Rabbits -- Juvenile fiction

In: Children & Young Adult Reading·Novels

Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #64078.

About this book

The story opens as a lively animal fable centered on Nibble, a curious rabbit who learns about “Man” from the gossiping forest creatures after a storm‑rattled party beneath a cornstalk tent. Through a chorus of birds, squirrels, and a fox, the animals debate the mysterious human’s appearance and danger, only to have Nibble encounter a boy named Tommy Peele, whose red mittens and rubber boots spark both wonder and fear. The narrative quickly moves from the party’s chatter to a tense trap scene, where Nibble is snared by a picture‑wire, lifted like a fish on a line, and rescued, reluctantly, by the very boy he deemed dangerous. The plot then follows Nibble’s confinement in a cage, his interactions with sparrows, a dog, and a scheming rat, and his attempts to navigate the bewildering world of humans and their pets.

Written in a brisk, colloquial style that mimics early‑20th‑century children’s verse, the voice is full of onomatopoeia, playful dialect, and rapid dialogue, giving the tale a lively, oral‑storytelling feel. Its whimsical animal cast and the rabbit’s perspective will appeal to readers who enjoy energetic, dialogue‑driven adventures where woodland lore meets human curiosity, especially younger audiences who appreciate humor mixed with gentle suspense.

Characters in Nibble Rabbit Makes More Friends

NibbleSmall brown rabbit with twitching whiskers, bright eyes, wearing a simple leaf collar
Tommy PeeleYoung boy in early 1900s rural clothes, red mittens, rubber boots, tousled hair
Doctor MuskratPlump muskrat in a tiny waistcoat, round spectacles perched on snout, holding a pocket watch

The opening · free to read

Why Nibble Bunny Was Puzzled

You remember all the funny things Nibble heard about Man from the guests who came to his Storm Party. That was the time the Big Hollow Oak blew down, and the brave little bunny who lived at Doctor Muskrat’s Pond rescued all the poor homeless folk who had been shaken out of it. He showed them the way to a fine little tent all made of cornstalks out in the Broad Field.

It was so nice and snug and comfortable, the minute they tucked their tails inside it, and caught their breaths, and sleeked down their fur and their feathers, they forgot all about how the Terrible Storm was having a tantrum outside. They had plenty of room to dance, and plenty of corn for refreshments—why, the party was as big a success as if they’d held it in a hired hall with engraved invitations.

But the most fun they had was talking about folks like you and me. And if you’d laid an ear to a crack before the wind tucked the snow blanket all around them, you wouldn’t have been very much flattered by what they said, either.

You might have overheard the bats insisting that Man looked like a frog. (You might say that about some folks, of course, but certainly not about you or me.) You’d prob’ly have heard the partridge say that Man was brown and wrinkly, like Grandpop Snapping-Turtle. (The man they saw certainly must have worn some funny clothes.) Chatter Squirrel said Man was pink and tan. (His pink was sunburn—the kind the fellows get down at the swimming-hole.)

Everyone just knew that everyone else was wrong. Then Gimlet Woodpecker insisted Man came as many shapes and sizes and colours as the flowers. And then they didn’t know what to think. There were just two things they all agreed on: he didn’t have a tail, and—he was dangerous. Nibble didn’t say anything, ’cause he’d never seen one.

But the first time he set eyes on Tommy Peele, he made up his mind they were all wrong—excepting about the tail. The little boy looked to him like a red-wing blackbird. (That was ’cause Tommy had on his new red mittens and his dark blue sweater and his shiny rubber boots.) But dangerous? He certainly didn’t look it. Still—when Silvertip the Fox only caught a glimpse of him, he turned tail and ran.

So Nibble made up his mind to copy the mouse motto: “Say nothing and stay cautious.” At least that’s what he thought he was—too cautious for anything. Wasn’t it perfectly safe and proper to dig into that queer lair where the mice were holding a party of their own? Wasn’t it nice and dark as his own hole? And nobody could possibly see him.

How was a bunny to know it was a soapbox? Or that it was part of a “figger-four” trap? Or that Tommy had set it ’specially for him?

You see he hadn’t been caught. He’d dug into it on purpose, because those nice little mice had invited him. And there the three of them were busy feasting when they heard the clump! clump! clump! of the clumsy hind paws of that little boy.

“Mice,” he said, “it’s that Man!”

Before he could twiddle a tail, Tommy’s red mitten was across the hole, and Tommy’s bare pink paw was closing on—the lady mouse. Then things began to fly!

Nibble was among them. He flew to the next little cornstalk tent, his heart thumping faster than his paws. “They were all of them right!” he gasped. “That Man is dangerous—dangerous as Silvertip himself. Poor Satin-skin! I s’pose that’s the end of her.”

He never thought of saying, “Poor Tommy Peele!” But Tommy was the right one to feel sorry for. Satin-skin had closed her little needle teeth on his finger. And before Nibble had taken a long breath he heard a voice squeaking, “Weeak! weeak! weeak!” which is mouse for, “I’m lost! Where are you?”

“Here!” he thumped with both hind feet. And who should come scuttling in but Satin-skin herself? He could feel her tremble all over as she tried to squirm right under him.

“My ears!” Nibble exclaimed. “I thought that Man had caught you!”

“No, I caught him!” wept the little lady mouse. “But he shook me so hard I was scared to let go again. And when I did, he sent me tail over ears. I tell you, it was awful! wee-eeak!”

“Shh! he’ll hear you,” Nibble warned. “There, your head will stop whirling pretty soon.” He knew just how she felt, ’cause he’d felt the same way himself—the time he tumbled off the back of that Red Cow he took for a log when Silvertip was chasing him.

But Tommy wasn’t even thinking about Satin-skin, let alone listening for her. He stamped his tall rubber boots and sucked his poor nipped finger. “Funniest thing!” he wondered to himself. “I just know there was a rabbit in that trap. I saw him go in there. I don’t guess it’s very much good. I’ll try the pitcher-wire.”

So he pulled on his red mitten and tramped off to the path in the bushes by the fence he’d seen Nibble slip through. This time he bent down a springy sapling and tied a loop of wire to the tip of it—the soft kind you use to hang pictures. And he pegged the lower edge of the loop across Nibble’s pathway.

How Nibble the Bunny Was Caught

Meanwhile, Nibble was busy comforting the lady mouse. “There, there! Don’t squeal any more. You’re not hurt a bit. But really, this gets more and more curiouser. Now Silvertip would certainly have eaten you. But I don’t see yet why folks are so scared of a Man, if that’s all he can do to you.”

“You’d know if he sh-sh-shook you!” sobbed the lady mouse.

But Nibble didn’t pay any attention. “I’m going to sneak up close to the Sparrows’ Tree and ask Chirp about it,” he announced.

Off went he, so fast he didn’t notice where he was putting his foot own.

He came to the fence—and the picture-wire. Zing! Now he knew what a trap was, for sure and certain. For the pegs let go, the sapling snapped back, and the wire caught him just behind his little fore legs and whipped him high up in the air.

He squirmed and flounced like a fish on the end of a line. He kicked harder and harder; and the wire pulled tighter and tighter, until he screamed.

From way up there in the air he could see Tommy Peele turn around and hurry toward him, swinging his red mittens as he ran. And he knew Tommy had something to do with it. “This,” thought he, “is why Man is dangerous. How awfully slow he flies. Now he’ll eat me!” And the wire was squeezing him so dreadful, he didn’t much care. But Tommy just cut that terrible loop, and took the rabbit gently into his arms.

“Poor little bunny! I didn’t know that was going to hurt you,” whispered the little boy. And he put a very sorry finger on the place where the picture wire had been.

But Nibble still kicked and struggled so hard that Tommy would have lost him if he hadn’t kept a tight hold of the bunny’s long ears. And Tommy did keep a tight hold, for the more he saw of Nibble the more he wanted him.

In ten minutes Nibble was locked in a cage. It really was a very nice one—for a rabbit who had been born there. But for Nibble it was as cramped as Ouphe the Rat’s narrow black tunnels under the haystack. It was only half a leap long and three creeps across. There was one dark corner in it where he could hide behind some hay when the humans came to look at him—and they did come, all sizes and colours and noises, just as Gimlet the Woodpecker had said. When they went away again he snubbed his nose trying to take the kinks out of his legs where he had been sitting on them.

And more than the humans came to call on him. For the minute they turned their backs a great big beast, much bigger than Silvertip, put his forepaws up on the front of the cage and sniffed at him. He was nearly the same colour as Silvertip, only his back was more grizzled and he had a white collar as well as a white shirtfront like most wild things wear. But this beast didn’t have a hungry look; he was only curious—like Nibble is himself when he isn’t scared. All the same, Nibble was afraid of him.

Just about sundown all these visitors went away. This was the chance Chirp Sparrow was looking for. He flew down and perched on the cage. Then he cheeped very softly, to make Nibble look at him.

Nibble pricked up an ear. Then he jumped so hard that he hit the front of the cage and bounced back again, but he picked himself up and thumped and wriggled his puffy tail trying to show Chirp how glad he was to see him. “Mr. Chirp, Mr. Chirp!” he exclaimed. “You’ll know how to help me. You know everything!”

“Well, not everything,” answered Chirp. But he preened the feathers on his shoulders and cocked his head on one side the way birds do when they’re pleased about anything. For he was immensely flattered. “I don’t know everything,” he repeated, “but I’ll call a sparrow council, and we’ll see what can be done about it.” And something’s pretty apt to happen when the sparrows put their minds to anything.

“Now you listen to me,” he went on. “You eat what they feed you and keep strong. You aren’t in any danger right away. And you try to make friends with that Dog.”

“What Dog?” asked Nibble. He was puzzled.

“He was here just a minute ago,” said Chirp. “That big foxy-looking beast. He’s a great friend of ours. He has a big dish by the back door that’s always full of delicious things. And he pretends to go to sleep while we pick up the crumbs. You be just as polite as you can to him. I’ll be back in the morning.” And Chirp flitted off to the sparrow roost, leaving Nibble almost cheerful again. He couldn’t help feeling that all this excitement was rather interesting.

How Nibble Tricked a Foe—and Made a Friend

Tommy Peele had tried to make his cage a comfortable one for Nibble to sleep in. But he didn’t know that a proper rabbit hole has fresh air blowing into it from above. The cage had only one dark, stuffy corner to hide in, or the open part behind a wire front. And there Nibble crouched in the hay Tommy had given him. But he kept cheerful. Chirp had said, “We’ll see what can be done about it,” and Nibble knew the clever Sparrow. So he just made a little song of the words until he sang himself to sleep with them.

Way ’long late toward the morning he woke up. His furry feet were tickling. So were his ears. And presently his shoulders tickled, too, where the fur stood straight up on them. Something was gnawing the floor of his cage.

“Who’s there?” he called softly. And oh, how he did pray it might be the field-mouse who had shown him the way through Ouphe’s tunnels! He could see the haystack where the wicked Rat lived, but it was so dark that that was all he could see.

“It’s I,” said the honey voice of Ouphe. “I’ve come to show you what can be done about it. I’m sorry to be late, but I had to attend to a little business with Chirp Sparrow.” The words were all right, but the way he said them was enough to make your skin crawl.

The book keeps going