And then, one day, the Boy was ill.
His face grew very flushed, and he talked in his sleep,
and his little body was so hot that it burned the Rabbit where he held him close. Strange people came
and went in the nursery, and a light burned all night long, and through it all the little Velveteen Rabbit
lay there, hidden from sight under the bedclothes, and he never stirred, for he was afraid that if they
found him, someone might take him away, and he knew that the Boy needed him
It was a long weary time, for the boy was too ill to play, and the little Rabbit
found it rather dull with nothing to do all day long. But he snuggled down patiently, and looked
forward to the time when the boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst
the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to. All sorts of
delightful things he planned, and while the Boy lay half asleep, he crept up close to the pillow and whispered
them in his ear. And presently the fever turned, and the Boy got better. He was able to sit up in bed and look
at picture books, while the little Rabbit cuddled close at his side. And one day, they let him get up and get dressed.
It was a bright, sunny morning, and the windows stood wide open. They had
carried the Boy out on the balcony, wrapped in a shawl, and the little Rabbit lay tangled up in the bedclothes, thinking.
The Boy was going to seaside tomorrow. Everything was arranged, and now it
only remained to carry out the doctor's orders. They talked about it all, while th elittle Rabbit lay under the bedclothes, with just his
head peeping out and listened. The room was to be disinfected, and all the books and toys that the Boy played with must be burnt.
"Hurrah!" thought the little Rabbit. "Tomorrow we shall go to the seaside!" For the little Boy
had talked of the seaside, and he wanted very much to see the big waves coming in, and the sand castles.
Just then Nana caught sight of him.
"What about this old bunny?" she asked.
"That?" said the doctor. "Why, it's a mass of scarlet fever germs! - Burn it at once!
What? Nonsense! Get him a new one. He mustn't have that anymore!"
And so the little Rabbit was put into a sack with the old picture-books and a lot of rubbish
and carried out to the end of the garden behind the fowl-house. That was a fine place to make a bon-fire, only the gardner was too busy just then to attend to it.
He had the potatoes to dig and the green peas to gather, but the next morning he promised to come quite early and burn the whole lot.
That night the boy slept in a different bedroom, and he had a new bunny to sleep with him. It was a splendid
bunny, all white plush with real glass eyes, but the Boy was too excited to care much about it. For tomorrow he was going to the seaside, and that in itself was such a
wonderful thing that he could think of nothing else.
And while the Boy was asleep, dreaming in the seaside, the little Rabbit lay among the old picture-books in the corner
behind the fowl-house, and he felt very lonely. The sack had been left untied, and so by wriggling a bit he was able to get his head through the opening and look out.
He was shivering a little, for he had always been used to sleeping in a proper bed, and by this time his coat had worn so thin and threadbare from hugging that it was no longer any
protection to him. Nearby he could see the thicket of raspberry canes, growing tall and close like a tropical jungle, in whose shadow he had played with the Boy on bygone mornings.
He thought of all those sunlit hours in the garden - how happy they were - and a great sadness came over him. He seemed to see them all pass before him, each more beautiful than
the other, the fairy huts in the flower-bed, the quiet evenings in the wood when he lay in the bracken and the little ants ran over his paws; the wonderful day when he first knew that he was
Real. He thought of the Skin Horse, so wise and gentle, and all that he had told him. Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it ended like this? And a tear - a Real tear -
trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground.
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