"Brother Lion went home to his mother as fast as he could go and remained quiet a long time. And now you tell me he's in a cage." Mr. Rabbit paused and shook his head until his ears flopped. The children seemed to enjoy the story very much; so much so, indeed, that Mrs. Meadows wanted Mr. Rabbit to tell some of his own queer experiences, but Mr. Rabbit laughed and said that it didn't seem exactly right to be telling his own stories. He said if he told the stories just as they happened, he'd have to talk about himself a good deal, and people would think he was boastful. He declared he didn't feel like making his young friends think he was bragging. "Oh, we shan't mind that," said Sweetest Susan, "shall we, brother?" "Why, of course not," replied Buster John. "La! we all done hear folks brag, till we got hardened ter braggin'!" exclaimed Drusilla. So the children, aided by Mrs. Meadows, coaxed Mr. Rabbit until he finally consented to tell some of his queer adventures. VIII. BROTHER TERRAPIN'S FIDDLE-STRING. Mr. Rabbit moved his body uneasily about, and scratched his head, and crossed and uncrossed his legs several times before he began. "I declare it isn't right!" he exclaimed after a while. "I don't mind telling about other folks, but when it comes to talking about myself, it is a different thing." "Don't you remember the time you tried to get Brother Terrapin to give you a fiddle-string?" asked Mrs. Meadows, laughing a little. "Oh, that was just a joke," replied Mr. Rabbit. "Call it a joke, then," said Mrs. Meadows. "You know what the little boy said when the man asked him his name. He said, says he, 'You may call it anything, so you call me to dinner.'" "He wasn't very polite," remarked Sweetest Susan. "No, indeed," Mrs. Meadows answered; "but you know that little boys can't always remember to be polite." "I think we were at your house," suggested Mr. Rabbit, rubbing his chin. "Yes," replied Mrs. Meadows. "In the little house by the creek. The yard sloped from the front door right to the bank." "To be sure," exclaimed Mr. Rabbit, brightening up. "I remember the house just as well as if I had seen it yesterday. There was a little shelf on the left-hand side of the door as you came out, and there the water-bucket sat." "Yes," said Mrs. Meadows; "and there was just room enough up there by the bucket for Brother Terrapin." "That's so," Mr. Rabbit replied, laughing, "and when he used to go to your house to see the girls they'd set the bucket on the table in the house and lift Brother Terrapin to the shelf so he could see and be seen. I remember it used to make him very mad when I'd tell him he would be a mighty man if he wasn't so flat-footed." "Oh, you used to talk worse than that," cried Mrs. Meadows, laughing heartily at the remembrance of it. "You used to tell him he was the only man you ever saw that sat down when he stood up. I declare! Brother Terrapin's eyes used to get right red."