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Fairytale lovers of all ages, will enjoy this collection of timeless classics, as Ms. Rae takes you into the woods and to far off places.
SPEAKER_01: Welcome to Forget Me
Not Fairy Tales.
Classic stories for book lovers
of all ages.
Let's begin.
The Tale of Peter Rabbit.
Written and illustrated by
Beatrix Potter.
Once upon a time, there were
four little rabbits, and their
names were Flopsy, Mopsy,
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.
Then old Mrs.
Rabbit took a basket and her
umbrella and went through the
wood to the baker's.
She bought a loaf of brown bread
and five currant buns.
Flopsy, Mopsy, 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 lettuces 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 rake and calling
out, Stop, thief! Peter was most
dreadfully frightened.
He rushed all over the garden,
for 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
gooseberry net and got caught by
the large buttons on his 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 a
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 rushed into the tool shed
and jumped into a 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 underneath the
flower pot.
He began to turn them over
carefully, looking under each.
Presently, Peter sneezed.
Huh?
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, and he
had not the least idea which way
to go.
Also, he was very damp with
sitting in that can.
After a time, he began to wander
about going lippity lippity, not
very fast, and looking all
around.
They found a door and 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
pea in her mouth that she could
not answer.
She only shook her head at him.
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 sat very, very still.
But now and then the tip of her
tail twitched as if it were
alive.
Peter thought it 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.
Scritch, scratch, scratch,
scritch.
Peter scuttered underneath the
bushes.
But presently, as nothing
happened, he came out and
climbed upon a wheelbarrow and
peered 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 blackcurrant 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 garden.
Mr.
McGregor hug up the little
jacket and the shoes for a
scarecrow to frighten the
blackbirds.
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 am sorry to say that Peter was
not very well during the
evening.
His mother put him to bed and
made some chamomile tea, and she
gave a dose of it to Peter.
One tablespoonful to be taken at
bedtime.
But Flopsy, Mopsy, and
Cottontail had bread and milk
and blackberries for supper.
The N I hope you like this
story, The Tale of Peter Rabbit.
One moral of the story is don't
go looking for mischief.
It can bring more problems than
it's worth.
Thanks for listening.
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