Billy Breeze had kicked up an awful racket all night around the Old Briar Patch, but Little Jack Rabbit hadn't heard him. No, sir. The little bunny had been too sound asleep to hear anything, but when he looked out in the morning, goodness me! how he shivered.
The ground was all covered with a white mantle, but he didn't know it was snow. This was the first snow he had ever seen. It made everything look strange, and the ground was as smooth as Mrs. Rabbit's best linen tablecloth.
Pretty soon he hopped down to the Bubbling Brook, but it, too, had changed. It was smooth, like glass. So the little rabbit leaned over the bank to listen, but just then Billy Breeze made a dreadful racket and whirled the snow about in great clouds. But the little rabbit didn't care; he just kept on listening, and by and by he heard the Bubbling Brook singing softly:
"Underneath the ice and snow
Very gently still I flow
Till I reach the Old Duck Pond
And the ocean far beyond.
"Billy Breeze may whistle loud
Toss the snow up in a cloud,
Underneath the ice and snow
Very gently still I flow."
"Dear me," said the little rabbit to himself, "I never would know that this was the Old Duck Pond if it weren't for the Old Mill yonder. No wonder Granddaddy Bullfrog hid himself deep down in the mud before all this happened."
Yes, the whole earth seemed quiet and still. The mill wheel moved no more; great icicles hung from the paddles and long snowdrifts lay piled against the dam.
I don't know how long the little rabbit would have stood there wondering at the sudden change if something hadn't happened. Whiz! went a snowball past his ear. The Farmer's Boy leaned over and picked up some more snow. But the little rabbit didn't wait to see what sort of a snowball he would make this time. No, siree. He hopped back to the dear Old Bramble Patch as fast as he could.