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With EverPeer, you're not just in the race, you're built to win it. Hello and welcome to Sleep Cove. The place to come for a great night's sleep. Please listen to this in a place where you can safely go to sleep. Tonight, I'll be reading three short bedtime stories by Beatrix Potter. They include The Tale of Peter Rabbit, The Tale of Benjamin Bunny, and The Tale of Tom Kissin. I really hope you like these charming and relaxing childhood stories. They certainly are classics. And let's begin. The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Once upon a time, there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mobsy, Cottontail, and Peter. They lived with their mother in a sandbank, underneath the root of a very big fir tree. Now my dears, said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden. Your father had an accident there. He was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor. Now run along and don't get into mischief. I'm going out. Their old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and went through the wood to the bakers. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five current buns. Flopsy, Mobsy, and Cottontail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries. But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden. And squeezed under the gate. First he ate some netices and some French beans, and then he ate some radishes. And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley. But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet? But Mr. McGregor. Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees, planting out young cabbages. But he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a ray and calling out, Stop, Thief. Peter was most dreadfully frightened. He rushed all over the garden, but he had forgotten the way back to the gate. He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes. After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not, unfortunately, run into a goosebun net and got caught by large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket, it was a blue jacket, with brass buttons, quite new. Peter gave himself up for loss, and shed big tears, but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great excitement and implored him to exert himself. Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter. But Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him, and he rushed into the tool shed and jumped into a watering can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it. Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool shed, perhaps hidden underneath the flower pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each. Presently Peter sneezed, good Jew, and Mr. McGregor was after him in no time, and tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work. Peter sat down to rest, he was out of breath, and trembling with fright. He had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was very dumb, with sitting in that can. After a time he began to wonder about, going in liberty, liberty, not very fast, and looking all around. He found a door in a wall, but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath. An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pee in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him, and Peter began to cry. Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently he came to a pond, where Mr. McGregor filled his water cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish. She was very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched, as if it was alive. Peter thought it was best to go away without speaking to her. He had heard about cats from his cousin, Little Benjamin Bunny. He went back towards the tool shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe screech, scratch, scratch, screech. Peter scuttled underneath the bushes, but presently, as nothing happened, he came out and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate. Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some plucked current bushes. Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate and was safe at last in the wood outside the shed. Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket, and the shoes were a scarecrow to frighten the black birds, and Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir tree. He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking. She wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight. I'm sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed and made some chamomile tea, as she gave a dose of it to Peter. One tablespoon to be taken at bedtime, she said. Perflopsy, moxie, and cottondale had bread and milk, and blackberries was supper. The end. The Tale of Benjamin Blunney by Beatrix Potter One morning, a little rabbit sat on a bang. He pricked his ears and listened to the trick-trot-trick-trot of a pony. A geek was coming along the road, and it was driven by Mr. McGregor, and beside him sat Mrs. McGregor in her best bonnet. As soon as they had passed, little Benjamin Blunney slid down into the road and set off with a hop, skit, and a jump to call upon his relations who lived in the wood at the back of Mr. McGregor's garden. The wood was full of rabbit holes, and in the neatest, sandiest hole of all lived Benjamin's aunt and his cousins, Flopsy, Moxie, cottondale, and Peter. Old Mrs. Rabbit was a widow. She earned her living by knitting rabbit wool mittens and muffertees. I once bought a pair at a bazaar. She also sold herbs and rosemary tea and rabbit tobacco, which is what we call lavender. Little Benjamin did not very much want to see his aunt. He came around the back of the fir tree, and nearly tumbled upon the top of his cousin Peter. Peter was sitting by himself. He looked poorly, and was dressed in a red cotton pocket. Thank you, chief. Peter said little Benjamin in a whisper. Who has cut your clothes? Peter replied, the scarecrow in Mr. McGregor's garden, and described how he'd been chased about the garden and dropped his shoes and coat. Little Benjamin sat down beside his cousin and assured him that Mr. McGregor had gone out in a gig, and Mrs. McGregor also, and certainly for the day, because she was wearing her best bonnet. Peter said he hoped that it would rain. At this point, old Mrs. Rabbit's voice was heard inside the rabbit hole, calling, Codden tail, Codden tail, fetch some more camomile. Peter said he thought he might feel better if he went for a walk. They went away hand in hand, and got upon the flat top of the wall at the bottom of the wood. From here they looked down into Mr. McGregor's garden, and Peter's coat and shoes were plainly to be seen upon the scarecrow, topped with an old hummous shunter of Mr. McGregor's. Little Benjamin said it spoils people's clothes to squeeze under a gate, the proper way to get in is to climb down a pear tree. Peter fell down head first, but it was of no consequence, as the bed below was newly raked and quite soft. It had been sewn with lettuces. They left a great many odd little footmarks all over the bed, especially Little Benjamin, who was wearing clogs. Little Benjamin said that the first thing to be done was to get back Peter's clothes in order that they might be able to use the pocket handkerchief. They took them off the scarecrow. There had been rain during the night, there was water in the shoes, and the coat was somewhat shrunk. Benjamin tried on the tamer shunter, but it was too big for him. Then he suggested that they should fill the pocket handkerchief with onions, as a little present for his aunt. Peter did not seem to be enjoying himself, he kept hearing noises. Benjamin on the contrary was perfectly at home and ate a lettuce leaf. He said that he was in the habit of coming to the garden with his father to get lettuces for their Sunday dinner. The name of Little Benjamin's papa was Old Benjamin Bunny, and the lettuces certainly were very fine. Peter did not eat anything, he said he should like to go home. Presently he dropped half the onions. Little Benjamin said that it was not possible to get back at the pear tree with a load of vegetables. He led the way boldly towards the other end of the garden. They went along a little walk on planks under a sunny red brick wall. The mice sat on their doorsteps cracking cherry stones. They winked at Peter and Little Benjamin Bunny. Presently Peter let the pocket handkerchief go again. They got amongst flower pots and frames and tubs, and Peter heard noises worse than ever. His eyes were as big as lollipops. He was a step or two in front of his cousins when he suddenly stopped. The little rabbits saw a cat around the corner. Little Benjamin took one look and then in a half a minute, less than no time, he hid himself and Peter and the onions under a large basket. The cat got up and stretched herself and came and sniffed at the basket. Perhaps she liked the smell of onions. Anyway she sat down upon the top of the basket. She sat there for five hours. I cannot draw you a picture of Peter and Benjamin underneath the basket because it was quite dark and because the smell of onions was fearful. It made Peter rabbit and Little Benjamin cry. The sun got round behind the wood and it was quite late in the afternoon but still the cat sat upon the basket. At length there was a bit of batter, a bit of batter, and some bits of mortar fell from the wall above. The cat looked up and saw Old Mr. Benjamin Bunny prancing along the top of the wall of the upper terrace. He was smoking a pipe of rabbit tobacco and had a little switch in his hand. He was looking for his son. Old Mr. Bunny had no opinion whatever of cats. He took a tremendous jump of the top of the wall on to the top of the cat and cuffed it off the basket and kicked it into the greenhouse, scratching off a handful of fur. The cat was too much surprised to scratch back. When Old Mr. Bunny had driven the cat into the greenhouse he locked the door and then he came back to the basket and took out his son Benjamin by the ears and whipped him with a little switch. Then he took out his nephew Peter. Then he took out the handkerchief of onions and marched out of the garden. When Mr. McGregor returned about half an hour later he observed several things which perplexed him. It looked as though some person had been walking all over the garden in a pair of clogs. Only the footmarks were too ridiculously little. Also he could not understand how the cat could have managed to shut herself up inside the greenhouse, locking the door upon the outside. When Peter got home his mother forgave him because she was so glad to see that he had found his shoes and coat. Gotten tail and Peter folded up the bogget anchorchief and old Mrs. Rabbit strung up the onions and hung them from the kitchen ceiling with a bunches of herbs and rabbit tobacco. The end. The Tale of Tom Kitten by Beatrix Potter. Once upon a time there were three little kittens and their names were Mittens, Tom Kitten and Moppet. They had dear little fur coats of their own and they tumbled about the doorstep and played in the dust. But one day their mother, Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit, expected friends to tea. So she fetched the kittens indoors to wash and dress them before the fine company arrived. First she scrubbed their faces, this one as Moppet and then she brushed their fur and this one as Mittens. And then she combed their tails and whiskers. This is Tom Kitten. Tom was very naughty and he scratched. Mrs. Tabitha dressed Moppet and Mittens in clean vinyphores and took us and then she took all sorts of elegant and comfortable clothes out of a chest of drawers in order to dress up her son Thomas. Tom Kitten was very fat and he had grown and several buttons burst off. His mother sewed them on again and when the three kittens were ready, Mrs. Tabitha unwisely turned them out into the garden to be out of the way while she made hot buttered toast. Now keep your frocks clean children, you must walk on your hind legs. Keep away from the dirty ash pit and from Sally Henry Penny and from the pigsty. And the puddle ducks. Moppet and Mittens walked down the garden path unsteady. Presently they trod upon their pineafores and fell on their noses. When they stood up there were several green smears. Let us climb up the rockery and sit on the garden wall said Moppet. They turned their pineafores back to front and went up with a skip and a jump. Moppet's white tucker fell down into the road. Tom Kitten was quite unable to jump when walking upon his hind legs and trousers. He came up the rockery by degrees, breaking the ferns and shedding buttons right and left. He was in pieces when he reached the top of the wall. Moppet and Mittens tried to pull him together. His hat fell off and the rest of his buttons burst. While they were in difficulties there was a pit, pad, paddle, and three puddle ducks came along the hard high road. Marching one behind the other and doing the goose step, pit, pad, paddle, pad, pit, pad, waddle, pad. They stopped and stood in a row and stared up at the kittens. They had very small eyes and looked surprised. Then the two duck birds, Rebecca and Jemima puddle duck, picked up the hat and tuck it and put them on. Mittens laughed so that she fell off the wall and Moppet and Tom descended after her. The pineafores and all the rest of Tom's clothes came off on the way down. Come Mr Drake puddle duck said Moppet, come and help us to dress him. Come and button up Tom. Mr Drake puddle duck advanced in a slow sideways manner and picked up the various articles but he put them on himself. They fitted him even worse than Tom Kitten. It's a very fine morning said Mr Drake puddle duck and he and Jemima and Rebecca puddle duck set off up the road keeping step, pit, pad, paddle, pad, pit, pad, waddle, pad. Then Tabatha Twitchit came down the garden and found her kittens on the wall with no clothes on. She pulled them off the wall gave them a little smack and then took them back into the house. My friends will arrive in a minute and you are not fit to be seen. I'm affronted said Mrs Tabatha Twitchit. She sent them upstairs and I'm sorry to say she told her friends that they were in bed with the measles which was not true. Quite to the contrary they were not in bed not in the least. Somehow they will vary extraordinary noises overhead which disturb the dignity and repose of the tea party and I think that someday I shall have to make another larger book to tell you more about Tom Kitten. As for the puddle ducks they went into a pond the clothes all came off directly clothes all came off directly because there were no buttons and Mr Drake puddle duck and Jemima and Rebecca have been looking for them ever since. The end.
