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He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underh the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he cameout, and climbed upon a wheelbarroeeped over. The firsbbr>?９9ｌｉｂ?</abbr>t thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turowards 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<tt>.99lｉb.t> straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.
Mr. McGregor caught sigh<var>..</var>t of him at the er, but Peter did not care. He slipped underh the gate, and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.
Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow thten the blackbirds.
Peter opped 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 doh his clothes. It was the sed little jacket and pair of sh?hat Peter had lost in a fht!
I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
His mother put him to bed, and made some ile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
Oable-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.
But Flopsy, Mopsy, ad Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.
THE END
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