"So will I, mamma," called Susie.
So they walked on through the woods to visit Newark and all the places
around where children want Easter eggs. Of course, if you had gone out
in the woods on top of Orange Mountain you could not have seen those
rabbits, because they were invisible. That is, you couldn't see them,
because Mrs. Cluck-Cluck, the fairy hen, had given them all cloaks spun
out of cobwebs, just like the Emperor of China once had, and this made
it so no one could see them. For it would never do, you know, to have
the rabbits spied upon when they were hiding the eggs. It wouldn't be
fair, any more than it would be right to peek when you're "it" in
playing blind man's buff.
Well, pretty soon, after a while, as they all walked through the woods,
Sammie kept going slower and slower and slower, because his basket was
quite heavy, until he was a long way in back of his papa, his mamma and
Susie. But he didn't mind that, for he knew he had plenty of time, when
all at once what should come running out of the bushes but a great big
dog. At first Sammie was frightened, but then when he looked again he
knew the dog was not a rabbit-dog. No, what is worse, he was an egg-dog.
Now an egg-dog is a dog that eats eggs, and they are one of the very
worst kinds of dogs there are. So the dog saw Sammie and knew what the
little rabbit boy had in his basket. But he asked him, making believe he
didn't know: "What have you in that basket, my little chap?" You see, he
called him "little chap" so as to pretend he was a friendly egg-dog.
"There are Easter eggs in the basket," said Sammie politely.
"And what, pray, are Easter eggs, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
inquired the dog, licking his teeth with his long red tongue, and
blinking his eyes, as if he didn't care.
"Easter eggs," replied Sammie, "are eggs for children for Easter, and
they are very prettily colored."
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the dog, just like that, and he sniffed the air.
"Please excuse me. But would you kindly be so good as to let me see
those eggs? I never saw any colored ones."
"Well," answered Sammie, "I am in a hurry, but you may have one peep."
So he opened the top of the basket and there, sure enough, were the
eggs, the green, the blue, the pink, the Johnnie red and the
skilligimink colored ones and all.
"Oh, how lovely!" cried the bad dog, sniffing the air again. "May I have
one?"
"No," said Sammie, very decidedly, "these are for the little children."
Then that dog got angry. Oh, you should have seen how angry he got. No,
on second thoughts I am glad you did not see how unpleasant he was, for
it might spoil your Easter. Anyhow, he was dreadfully angry, dreadfully!
He showed his teeth, and he made his hair stand up straight, and he
growled: "Give me all those eggs, or I'll take them right away from
you! I am an egg-dog, and I must have eggs. Give them to me, I say!"
Well, maybe poor Sammie wasn't frightened! He trembled so that the eggs
rattled together and very nearly were broken. Then he started to run
away, but the bad dog ran after him, and what do you think? Just as the