Þe Tale of Peter Hidehare

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ÞE TALE OF PETER HIDEHARE
Bi Beatrix Potter
Ƿended bi Ye_who_you_spake_of
(Þrucced 1901)



ONES upon a time þere ƿere four littel hidehares, and þeger names ƿere— Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter.

Þeg lifed ƿið þeger Moðer in a sandbank, underneað þe root of a sƿiðe bigg firtree.

"NUE, mi dears," sagd old Gƿf. hidehare one morning, "geƿ mag go into þe feelds or dune þe lane, but don't go into Gƿr. McGregor's ƿurttun: geƿer Faðer had a befalling Þere; he ƿas put in a bake bi Gƿf. McGregor."

"NUE run along, and don't get into skaðefulness. I am going ute."

ÞEN old Gƿf. hidehare took a leep and her ragnsceade, to þe baker's. Sce bouht a loaf of brunebread and fife corinðberrigbuns.

FLOPSY, Mopsy, and Cottontail, hƿo ƿere good littel hidehares, ƿent dune þe lane to gaðer blackberries;

BUT Peter, hƿo ƿas sƿiðe nauhtig, ran straiht aƿag to Gƿr. McGregor's ƿurttun and skƿueesed under þe gate!

FIRST he ate sum sleepƿurts and sum Frankisc beans; and þen he ate sum radisces;

AND þen, feeling raðer sick, he ƿent to look for sum parsleg.

BUT umb þe end of a hƿerhƿet frame, hƿom sculd he meet but Gƿr. McGregor!

GǷR. McGREGOR ƿas on his hands and knees planting ute geung coles, but he bragded up and ran after Peter, ƿafing a rake and calling ute, "Stop þeef!"

PETER ƿas most dreadfullig frihtened; he rusced all ofer þe ƿurttun, for he had forgeotten þe ƿag back to þe gate.

He lost one of his sceoes amung þe coles, and þe oðer sceoe amungst þe earðappels.

AFTER losing þem, he ran on four leggs and ƿent faster, so þat I þink he miht haf got aƿag altogeðer if he had not haplesslig run into a goosberrig net, and got fanged bi þe great knaps on his poad. It ƿas a blue poad ƿið brass knaps, sƿiðe neƿ.

PETER geafe himself up for lost, and sced bigg tears; but his sobs ƿere oferheard bi sum frendlig sparroƿs, hƿo fleƿ to him in great giddiness, and beseeced him to scuf himself.

GǷR. McGREGOR came up ƿið a sif, hƿic he meant to pop upon þe top of Peter; but Peter ƿriggled ute riht in time, leafing his poad behind him.

AND rasced into þe toolsced, and hopped into a can. It ƿuld haf been a sceen þing to hide in, if it had not had so muc ƿater in it.

GǷR. McGREGOR ƿas sƿiðe ƿiss þat Peter ƿas sumhƿere in þe toolsced, maghaps hidden underneað a blossumpot. He beggan to hƿarf þem ofer carefullig, looking under eac.

Þenlig Peter sneesed— "Kertigsceoo!" Gƿr. McGregor ƿas after him in no time,

AND fanded to put his foot upon Peter, hƿo hopped ute of a ƿindoƿ, upsetting þree plants. Þe ƿindoƿ ƿas too small for Gƿr. McGregor, and he ƿas tired of running after Peter. He ƿent back to his ƿork.

PETER sat dune to rest; he ƿas ute of breað and sceaking ƿið friht, and he had not þe least þouht hƿic ƿag to go. Also he ƿas sƿiðe damp ƿið sitting in þat can.

After a time he beggan to ƿander abute, going lippitig— lippitig—not sƿiðe fast, and looking all abute.

HE fund a door in a ƿall; but it ƿas locked, and þere ƿas no room for a fat littel hidehare to skƿeese underneað.

An old muse ƿas running in and ute ofer þe stone doorstep, holding peas and beans to her kin in þe ƿood. Peter asked her þe ƿag to þe gate, but sce had suc a great pea in her muðe þat sce culd not ansƿer. Sce onlig sceok her head at him. Peter beggan to ƿeep.

ÞEN he fanded to find his ƿag straiht geond þe ƿurttun, but he became more and more pusseled. Þenlig, he came to a pond hƿere Gƿr. McGregor filled his ƿatercans. A hƿite cat ƿas staring at sum goldfisc; sce sat sƿiðe, sƿiðe still, but nue and þen þe tip of her tagl tƿicced as if it ƿere alif. Peter þouht it best to go aƿag ƿiðute speaking to her; he had heard abute cats from his moddrigsun, littel Benjamin Bunny.

HE ƿent back toƿards þe toolsced, but bragdlig, sƿiðe near to him, he heard þe sund of a hoe—skr-r-ricc, skracc, skracc, skricc. Peter skuttered underneað þe busces. But þenlig, as noðing happened, he came ute, and climbed upon a hƿeelbarroƿ, and peeped ofer. Þe first þing he saƿ ƿas Gƿr. McGregor hoeing inleeks. His back ƿas hƿarfed toƿards Peter, and begeond him ƿas þe gate!

PETER got dune sƿiðe hƿistlig off þe hƿeelbarroƿ, and started running as fast as he culd go, along a straiht ƿalk behind sum blackcorinðberrig busces. Gƿr. McGregor fanged siht of him at þe ecg, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneað þe gate, and ƿas sund at last in þe ƿood uteside þe ƿurttun.

GǷR. McGREGOR hung up þe littel poad and þe sceoes for a skarecroƿ to frihten þe blackbirds.

PETER nefer stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to þe bigg firtree.

He ƿas so tired þat he flopped dune upon þe tid soft sand on þe floor of þe hideharehole, and scut his eges. His moðer ƿas busig cooking; sce ƿundered hƿat he had done ƿið his cloðes. It ƿas þe tƿoð littel poad and deal of sceoes þat Peter had lost in a fortniht!

I AM sorrig to sag þat Peter ƿas not sƿiðe ƿell in þe efening.

His moðer put him to bed, and made sum magð tea; and sce geafe a mete of it to Peter!

"One boardspoonful to be taken at bedtime."

BUT Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries, for efengifel.

ÞE END