The Tale of Mr. Tod
The Tale of Mr. TodThe Tale of Mr. TodCopyright
The Tale of Mr. Tod
Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Mr. Tod
I have made many books about well–behaved people. Now,
for a change, I am going to make a story about two disagreeable
people, called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.Nobody could call Mr. Tod "nice." The rabbits could not bear
him; they could smell him half a mile off. He was of a wandering
habit and he had foxey whiskers; they never knew where he would be
next.One day he was living in a stick–house in the coppice,
causing terror to the family of old Mr. Benjamin Bouncer. Next day
he moved into a pollard willow near the lake, frightening the wild
ducks and the water rats.In winter and early spring he might generally be found in an
earth amongst the rocks at the top of Bull Banks, under Oatmeal
Crag.He had half a dozen houses, but he was seldom at
home.The houses were not always empty when Mr. Tod movedout; because sometimes Tommy Brock
movedin; (without asking
leave).Tommy Brock was a short bristly fat waddling person with a
grin; he grinned all over his face. He was not nice in his habits.
He ate wasp nests and frogs and worms; and he waddled about by
moonlight, digging things up.His clothes were very dirty; and as he slept in the
day–time, he always went to bed in his boots. And the bed which he
went to bed in, was generally Mr. Tod's.Now Tommy Brock did occasionally eat rabbit–pie; but it was
only very little young ones occasionally, when other food was
really scarce. He was friendly with old Mr. Bouncer; they agreed in
disliking the wicked otters and Mr. Tod; they often talked over
that painful subject.Old Mr. Bouncer was stricken in years. He sat in the spring
sunshine outside the burrow, in a muffler; smoking a pipe of rabbit
tobacco.He lived with his son Benjamin Bunny and his daughter–in–law
Flopsy, who had a young family. Old Mr. Bouncer was in charge of
the family that afternoon, because Benjamin and Flopsy had gone
out.The little rabbit–babies were just old enough to open
their blue eyes and kick. They lay in a fluffy bed of rabbit wool
and hay, in a shallow burrow, separate from the main rabbit hole.
To tell the truth—old Mr. Bouncer had forgotten them.He sat in the sun, and conversed cordially with Tommy Brock,
who was passing through the wood with a sack and a little spud
which he used for digging, and some mole traps. He complained
bitterly about the scarcity of pheasants' eggs, and accused Mr. Tod
of poaching them. And the otters had cleared off all the frogs
while he was asleep in winter—"I have not had a good square meal
for a fortnight, I am living on pig–nuts. I shall have to turn
vegetarian and eat my own tail!" said Tommy Brock.