The Man paused as he reached the corn, and stepped two paces up again. He stooped, and Bunny Rabbit was inverted. He rose, and Bunny Rabbit found his feet. But now he was more cramped than ever. He lay deep in the farthest corner. Over, and on all sides of him, was packed a stifling mass of green. Then Bunny Rabbit used his teeth, axe-fashion at first, but soon to better purpose. The lesson that he should have long since learnt was now enforced by circumstance. He bit and tasted. * * * * * "Bunny Rabbit," said the Man, "your ears are abnormal." Bunny Rabbit lay crouched upon the hearthrug, blinking. At first he had found covert in the curtains, but these had been looped up. Then he had squeezed behind the bookcase and been, with difficulty, extracted. Then he had set himself to dig. The carpet had repaid him with some fluff. The doormat and the wicker chair seemed promising, but he made little headway, and so had lain down tired. [Illustration: LAY FULL LENGTH, EYES CLOSED] "Very abnormal ears, Bunny," the Man went on. "This smacks of the domestic. Then why so frightened?" But Bunny Rabbit was more tired than frightened. "More food, Bunny?" A bunch of green had lain upon the floor but every scrap had vanished. "You've had enough for one day, Bunny. It's bedtime, up you come." So Bunny Rabbit slept that night on blankets, he and the moonshine. The Man tossed restlessly and Bunny Rabbit watched his moving lips. Twilight crept in soft-footed, and Bunny Rabbit took three little jumps and wormed inside the bed-clothes. * * * * * "Slept well, Bunny?" said the Man; "it's more than I have. I've made my mind up, Bunny. I'm going. I can't bear the house. I can't bear the rooms. They're empty, empty, empty." The Man stepped slowly down the stairs and Bunny Rabbit stumbled after him. He reached the hall and paused, then caught up Bunny Rabbit, and once more ascended. He entered every upstairs room and gazed as though to clinch them on his memory. He entered every downstairs room, and in one room, the loneliest of all, he sat and cried his heart out. * * * * * "We're homeless, Bunny Rabbit," said the Man. "But you're the better off, for your home's somewhere here." They had got half-way up the slope. The Man stood tall among the ragwort, and Bunny Rabbit, with wide, frightened eyes, clung to his shoulder. The Man stooped down, and Bunny Rabbit slid to earth. "Now you must find your home or make one," said the Man, and Bunny Rabbit straightway tried to make one. He plunged his forepaws in the ground and scratched. The dust flew out behind and, in the midst, shot something hard and glittering. It was a small gold locket. The Man bent down and picked it up. He opened it and with dimmed eyes he kissed it. "You've done me a good turn," he said--"of course it's pure coincidence," and Bunny Rabbit watched him out of sight.