Once upon a time, there was a velveteen rabbit that was quite magnificent. His coat was speckled brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen, as a rabbit should be. The effect was charming on Christmas morning, when he sat jammed at the top of the Boy's stocking, a sprig of holly between his paws.
Other items in the stocking included nuts, oranges, and a toy engine, as well as chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was the greatest of them all. The Boy loved him for at least two hours, and then Aunts and Uncles came to supper, and there was a tremendous rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten in the excitement of looking at all the new presents.
He lived in the toy cabinet or on the nursery floor for a long time, and no one gave him much thought. He was naturally bashful, and because he was only made of velveteen, he was shunned by some of the more costly toys. The mechanical toys were superior to everyone else, looking down on them; they were full of current ideas and purported to be real. The model boat, which had survived two seasons and had lost most of his paint, picked up on their tone and never missed an occasion to use technical phrases to describe his rigging.
The Rabbit couldn't claim to be a model of anything since he had no idea that genuine rabbits existed; he assumed they were all stuffed with sawdust like him, and he knew that sawdust was out-of-date and should never be spoken in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion created by handicapped troops and who should have had a larger perspective, put on airs and purported to be affiliated with the government. The poor tiny Rabbit was made to feel unimportant and banal by them all, and the Skin Horse was the only one who was friendly to him at all.
The Skin Horse had been in the nursery longer than any of the other horses. He was so ancient that most of the hairs on his tail had been plucked out to string bead necklaces, and his brown coat was bald in spots and showed the seams underneath. He was wise, for he had watched a long line of mechanical toys arrive to brag and strut, only to break their mainsprings and die, and he knew they were only toys that would never become anything else. Because nursery magic is strange and lovely, only those playthings who are ancient, smart, and experienced, such as the Skin Horse, really comprehend it.
"What is REAL?" the Rabbit inquired one day as they lay side by side beside the nursery fender, waiting for Nana to tidy the room. "Does that imply that you have things buzzing inside you and a protruding handle?"
"Real isn't how you're built," the Skin Horse explained. "It is something that occurs to you. You become Real when a child loves you for a long time, not only to play with, but REALLY loves you."
"Does it hurt?" the Rabbit inquired.
The Skin Horse, who was always truthful, said, "Sometimes." "You don't mind being harmed when you're Real."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, or does it happen little by bit?" he wondered.
"It doesn't all happen at once," the Skin Horse explained. "You develop. It takes a long time to complete. That's why it doesn't happen very often to people who are prone to breaking, have sharp edges, or must be kept properly. By the time you're Real, most of your hair has been loved off, your eyes have dropped out, and your joints have become loose and shabby. But none of this matters, because once you're Real, you can't be ugly unless you're talking to people who don't get it."
The Rabbit asked, "I believe you're Real?" He suddenly wished he hadn't said anything because he suspected the Skin Horse was sensitive. The Skin Horse, on the other hand, merely smiled.
He explained, "The Boy's Uncle made me Real." "That was a long time ago, but once you're Real, you can't go back to being unreal. It lasts indefinitely."
The Rabbit let out a sigh. He assumed it would be a long time before he encountered this Real magic. He yearned to be Real, to feel what it was like, but the prospect of becoming shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was depressing. He wished he could transform into it without having to go through all of these unpleasant experiences.
When the Boy went to bed one night, the ceramic dog that had typically slept with him was nowhere to be found. Nana was in a hurry, and looking for china dogs before sleep was too much trouble, so she simply looked around her and made a swoop when she discovered the toy cabinet door was open.
""Here, take your old Bunny!" she said. He'll go to any length to sleep with you!" She then brought the Rabbit out by one ear and placed him in the arms of the Boy.
The Velveteen Rabbit stayed in the Boy's bed that night, and for many nights after. The Boy gripped him very tightly at first, and he rolled over on him, and he pressed him so far beneath the pillow that the Rabbit could barely breathe. He also missed those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when the entire house was silent, as well as his conversations with the Skin Horse. But he soon warmed up to it, for the Boy used to chat to him and make him wonderful tunnels under the bedclothes that he claimed were just like the burrows that genuine rabbits lived in. When Nana had gone to her supper and left the nightlight glowing on the mantelpiece, they had wonderful games together in whispers. And when the Boy went to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle up beneath his little warm chin and dream all night, with the Boy's hands clenched tightly around him.
So time passed, and the tiny Rabbit was so happy that he didn't see his beautiful velveteen fur shabbier and shabbier, his tail coming unsewn, and all the pink rubbing off his nose where the Boy had kissed him.
Spring arrived, and they spent their days in the garden of The Velveteen Rabbit, where the Rabbit accompanied the Boy wherever he went. He had wheelbarrow rides, picnics on the grass, and magnificent fairy homes created for him behind the flower border under the raspberry canes.
When the Boy was called away unexpectedly to go out to tea, the Rabbit was left out on the lawn until well after dusk, and Nana had to come out with the candle to look for him because the Boy couldn't sleep unless he was there. Nana groaned as she brushed him off with a corner of her apron, damp from the dew and somewhat earthy from plunging into the burrows the Boy had dug for him in the flower bed.
She exclaimed, "You must have your old Bunny!" "What a lot of fuss for a toy!"
The Boy sat up in bed, stretching his arms out.
He exclaimed, "Give me my Bunny!" "That's something you can't say. He isn't a toy in any way. He's the real deal!"
When the tiny Rabbit heard this, he was overjoyed because he realized that what the Skin Horse had stated was, at long last, correct. He'd experienced the nursery magic and was no longer a toy. He was the real deal. It had been said by the Boy himself.
That night, he was almost too delighted to sleep, and his little sawdust heart was nearly burst with love.
And there came a look of wisdom and beauty into his boot-button eyes, which had long since lost their polish, so that Nana noticed it the next morning when she took him up and said, "I declare if that old Bunny hasn't got quite a knowing expression!"
That's been a fantastic summer!
There was a wood near their house where they resided, and the Boy liked to go there after tea to play on the long June evenings. He always carried the Velveteen Rabbit with him, and before he went off to collect flowers or play brigands in the trees, he created the Rabbit a little nest somewhere amid the bracken, where he could be quite comfortable, for he was a kind-hearted little boy who loved Bunny to be comfortable. One evening, while the Rabbit lay alone in the grass, watching the ants dart back and forth between his velvet paws, he noticed two unusual beings emerge from the tall bracken nearby.
They were rabbits, just like him, but hairy and brand-new. They had to be in great shape. Outside created, the Velveteen Rabbit's seams didn't show at all, and they changed shape in a funny way when they moved; one minute they were long and thin, the next fat and bunchy, instead of staying the same as he did. Their soft paws padded on the ground, and they moved up close to him, twitching their noses, while the Rabbit peered intently to see which side of the clockwork protruded, for he knew that people who jump usually have something to wind them up. He couldn't see it, though. They were clearly a different breed of rabbit.
They all looked at him, and the small Rabbit returned their stares. Their nostrils twitched the entire time.
One of them said, "Why don't you get up and play with us?"
"I don't feel like it," the Rabbit answered, not wanting to admit that he didn't have any clockwork.
The fluffy bunny exclaimed, "Ho!" "It's as simple as that." He then hopped sideways and stood up on his hind legs.
"I don't think you can!" he exclaimed.
The young Rabbit exclaimed, "I can!" "I can jump higher than anything!" exclaims the narrator. He was referring to when the Boy threw him, but he didn't want to admit it.
The fluffy bunny inquired, "Can you hop on your hind legs?"
That was a terrible question, because the Velveteen Rabbit didn't have any rear legs! Like a pincushion, his back was constructed entirely of one piece. He waited motionless in the bracken, hoping the other bunnies would go unnoticed.
"I don't want to!" he exclaimed once more.
Wild rabbits, on the other hand, have extremely acute eyes. This one, on the other hand, stretched out his neck and gazed.
"He doesn't have any hind legs!" he exclaimed. "How about a rabbit with no hind legs?" And then he started laughing.
"I've done it!" exclaimed the small Rabbit. "I now have hind legs! I'm on top of them!"
"Then stretch them out and show me," the wild rabbit exclaimed. And he started spinning around and dancing, making the small Rabbit dizzy.
He stated, "I don't like dancing." "I'd rather sit still!" says the narrator.
But he was itching to dance because a strange new tickly sensation surged through him, and he felt he would give anything to be able to bounce around like these bunnies.
The odd rabbit got very near to stopping dancing. His long whiskers grazed the Velveteen Rabbit's ear this time, and then he wrinkled his nose, flattened his ears, and sprang backwards.
He shouted, "He doesn't smell right!" "He isn't even a bunny! He's not the real deal!"
""I am Real!" exclaimed the little Rabbit. That's what the Boy said!" And he was on the verge of crying.
The Boy rushed past them with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails, and the two odd rabbits vanished with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails.
The young Rabbit shouted out, "Come back and play with me!" "Oh, do came back! I am certain that I am genuine!"
But there was no response; just the little ants went back and forth, and the bracken gently moved where the two visitors had passed. The Velveteen Rabbit was alone in the world.
"Oh, dear!" he exclaimed. "Why did they flee in such a frantic manner? Why couldn't they just come to a halt and talk to me?" He remained motionless for a long time, watching the bracken and hoping they would return. But they never came back, and as the sun got lower in the sky and the little white moths flew away, the Boy appeared and escorted him home.
Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit got old and ragged, but the Boy still adored him. He adored him so much that he shaved off all of his whiskers, turning the pink lining of his ears grey and fading his brown spots.
Except for the Boy, he began to lose his shape, and he no longer resembled a rabbit. He was always lovely to him, and that was all that mattered to the tiny Rabbit. He didn't care how he appeared to others since the nursery magic had made him Real, and shabbiness didn't matter when you're Real.
Then the Boy became ill one day.
His cheeks flushed, he talked while sleeping, and his small body was so hot that it burnt the Rabbit when he held him close. Strangers came and went in the nursery, and a light shone all night, and the little Velveteen Rabbit lay there, concealed beneath the bedclothes, and he never moved, for he was asleep. The Velveteen Rabbit adores the boy and patiently awaits his arrival. He was afraid that if they discovered him, someone would kidnap him, and he knew that the Boy needed him.
It was a long, exhausting period since the Boy was too ill to play, and the small Rabbit was bored with having nothing to do all day. But he cuddled down contentedly, anticipating the day when the Boy would be well enough to go out in the garden with the flowers and butterflies, and they would play magnificent games in the raspberry thicket like they used to. He had a lot of fun plans, and he snuck up close to the Boy's pillow and whispered them in his ear while he was partly asleep. And then the fever subsided, and the Boy began to feel better.
While the small Rabbit cuddled close by his side, he was able to sit up in bed and gaze at picture books. They finally let him get up and dress one day.
The windows were wide open because it was a bright, sunny morning. The small Rabbit lay tangled up among the bedclothes, wondering, while they brought the Boy out onto the balcony, covered in a shawl.
The Boy was planning on going to the beach the next day. Everything was in place, and all that was left was to follow the doctor's orders. They spoke about everything while the little Rabbit listened from beneath the bedclothes, with only his head peeking out.
All of the books and toys that the Boy had played with in bed were to be burned, and the room was to be cleansed.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed the small Rabbit. "We're going to the beach tomorrow!" For the Boy had often mentioned going to the beach, and he was eager to witness the large waves crashing, as well as the small crabs and sand castles.
Nana happened to notice him at that same moment.
She inquired, "How about his old Bunny?"
"That?" the doctor inquired. "It's a swarm of scarlet fever germs, after all!— It should be burned right away. What? Nonsense! Purchase a new one for him. That's something he can't have anymore!"
As a result, the small Rabbit was stuffed into a sack with old picture books and a bunch of trash and hauled out to the fowl-back house's end of the garden. That would have been a lovely spot for a campfire, but the gardener was too preoccupied at the time. He had potatoes to dig and green peas to pick, but he vowed to come early the next morning to burn everything.
The Boy slept in a separate room that night, and he had a new bunny to sleep with. It was a lovely bunny, all white plush with actual glass eyes, but the Boy was far too enthralled to notice.
Because he was going to the beach tomorrow, and it was such a great thing in and of itself that he couldn't think of anything else.
And while the Boy was sleeping, dreaming of the sea, the small Rabbit sat alone in the corner behind the fowlhouse, among the old picture books. Because the sack had been left untied, he was able to get his head through the opening and gaze out by wriggling a little. He was shivering somewhat since he had grown accustomed to sleeping in a proper bed, and his coat had become so thin and threadbare from hugging that it no longer provided any protection.
He could see the thicket of raspberry canes nearby, which grew tall and close together like a tropical jungle, and in whose shade he had played with the Boy on previous mornings. He felt a wave of grief wash over him as he remembered those long, sunny hours in the garden, and how wonderful they had been. The fairy cottages in the flower-bed, the calm evenings in the woods when he lay in the bracken and the small ants ran over his paws; the magnificent day when he first realized he was Real all seemed to pass before him, each more beautiful than the last. He remembered the Skin Horse, who was smart and gentle, and everything he'd told him. What was the point of being loved, losing one's attractiveness, and becoming Real if it all ended up like this? And a tear, a genuine tear, ran down his shabby velvet nose and onto the ground.
Then something unusual happened. Because where the tear had dropped, a mysterious flower came out of the ground, unlike any other bloom in the garden. It had emerald-green narrow leaves and a golden cup-shaped flower in the center of the leaves. The scene was so lovely that the tiny Rabbit forgot to cry and simply lay there admiring it. And then the blossom burst open, and a fairy emerged from it.
She was the most beautiful fairy on the planet. Her gown was made of pearls and dewdrops, and she had flowers around her neck and in her hair, and her face was as lovely as any flower. And she approached the tiny Rabbit, scooping him up in her arms and kissing him. The gorgeous fairy adds to the story's charm. on his velveteen nose, which was dripping wet from crying
"Don't you know who I am, Little Rabbit?" she asked.
The Rabbit raised his eyes to her, and he realized he had seen her face before, but he couldn't recall where.
"I am the Nursery Magic Fairy," she introduced herself. "I look after all of the toys that the kids have enjoyed. When they are old and worn out, and the children no longer require them, I come along and take them away, transforming them into Real."
"Wasn't I Real before?" the Rabbit wondered.
""You were Real to the Boy because he loved you," the Fairy explained. You must now be honest with everyone."
And she flew into the woods with the little Rabbit clutched in her arms.
Because the moon had risen, it was now light. The forest looked stunning, and the bracken fronds glistened like iced silver. Wild rabbits danced with their shadows on the velvet grass in the wide glade between the tree trunks, but when they noticed the Fairy, they all stopped dancing and formed a ring around her to stare at her.
The Fairy remarked, "I've brought you a new playfellow." "You must be very friendly to him and teach him everything he needs to know about Rabbitland, for he will live with you for the rest of his life!"
She kissed the tiny Rabbit once more and placed him on the grass.
She exclaimed, "Run and play, little Rabbit!"
The tiny Rabbit, on the other hand, sat motionless for a long time. Because he suddenly remembered his hind legs when he saw all the wild rabbits dancing about him, and he didn't want them to realize that he was created entirely of one piece. He had no idea that the last time the Fairy kissed him, she had completely transformed him. And he might have stayed there for a long time, too afraid to move, if something hadn't scratched his nose just then, and he lifted his hind toe to scratch it before he realized what he was doing.
He also discovered that he had hind legs! He had brown fur that was velvety and lustrous instead of the drab velveteen, his ears twitched on their own, and his whiskers were so long that they brushed the grass. He took one leap and was so delighted to be able to use his hind legs that he went springing about the lawn on them, jumping sideways and whirling around like the others, and he became so enthralled that when he finally stopped to search for the Fairy, she was vanished.
He was now a Real Rabbit, living among the other bunnies.
Autumn, Winter, and Spring came and went, and the Boy went out to play in the woods behind the house as the days grew warmer and sunnier. Two rabbits crept out of the bracken and peered at him while he was playing. The one was brown all over, while the other had peculiar marks under his fur, as if he'd been spotted before and the spots were still visible. And there was something familiar about his little soft nose and his round black eyes, so the Boy thought to himself:
"He reminds me of my old Bunny, who I lost when I had scarlet fever!"
But he had no idea it was his own Bunny, returning to look at the youngster who had first assisted him in becoming Real.
