But by the time he reached home it was getting dark, and when he went in the hole at the foot of a big tree where he lived, his Mammy didn’t know him. No, she really and truly did not know him, because, you see, she had never seen a rabbit with red wings in all her life. And so the little White Rabbit had to go out again, because his Mammy wouldn’t let him get into his own bed. He had to go out and look for some place to sleep all night.
He went and went until he came to Mr. Bushy Tail’s house, and he rapped on the door and said:
“Please, kind Mr. Bushy Tail, may I sleep in your house all night?”
But Mr. Bushy Tail opened his door a crack and then he slammed it tight shut again. You see he had never seen a rabbit with red wings in all his life.
So the little White Rabbit went and went until he came to Miss Puddle-Duck’s nest down by the marsh and he said:
“Please, kind Miss Puddle-Duck, may I sleep in your nest all night?”
But Miss Puddle-Duck poked her head up out of her nest just a little way and then she shut her eyes and stretched her wings out so far that she covered her whole nest.
You see she had never seen a rabbit with red wings in all her life.
So the little White Rabbit went and went until he came to Old Mr. Ground Hog’s hole and Old Mr. Ground Hog let him sleep with him all night, but the hole had beech nuts spread all over it. Old Mr. Ground Hog liked to sleep on them, but they hurt the little White Rabbit’s feet and made him very uncomfortable before morning.
When it came morning, the little White Rabbit decided to try his wings and fly a little, so he climbed up on a hill and spread his wings and sailed off, but he landed in a low bush all full of prickles, and his four feet got mixed up with the twigs so he couldn’t get down.
“Mammy, Mammy, Mammy, come and help me!” he called.
His Mammy didn’t hear him, but Old Mr. Ground Hog did, and he came and helped the little White Rabbit out of the prickly bush.
“Don’t you-all want your red wings?” Mr. Ground Hog asked.
“No, _no_!” said the little White Rabbit.
“Well,” said the Old Ground Hog, “why don’t you-all go down to the Wishing Pond and wish them _off_ again?”
So the little White Rabbit went down to the Wishing Pond and he saw his face in it. Then he turned around three times, and, sure enough, his red wings were gone. Then he went home to his Mammy, who knew him right away and was so glad to see him and he never, _never_ wished to be something different from what he really was again.
