Billy Woodchuck and Jimmy Rabbit often played together. Though they did not look the least bit alike, they agreed almost perfectly in one thing: they liked the same good things to eat. There was no place they would rather go than Farmer Green’s garden.

But after he had had a bad fright one day, when dog Spot chased him away from the lettuce-bed, Jimmy Rabbit did not go near the garden for a long time. But he could not forget the taste of that crisp lettuce. So one day he said to Billy Woodchuck:

“How would you like to play a new game?”

“What is it?” Billy asked. “If it’s fun, of course I’d like it.”

“Well—did you ever play beggar?” Jimmy Rabbit asked him.

“No! What’s it like?”

“It’s like this,” Jimmy told him. “You sit up on your hind legs, hold your hands in front of you, and let your head hang over on one side. And whenever anybody comes along you say: ‘Please give me something to eat! Nothing has passed these lips for two days!’”

“B-but I’ve just had a good meal,” Billy said. “And that wouldn’t be true.”

“Oh—this is just a game,” Jimmy Rabbit said. “It’s all right. It’s often done. Everybody will understand.”

“Well, then—where shall I sit?” Billy Woodchuck asked.

“I’d advise you to go down near Farmer Green’s garden,” said Jimmy—“there are so many people passing that way. I’ll wait here for you. And when you get enough food given you, you can bring it right back here and I’ll help you carry it home.”

Billy Woodchuck thought that was very kind. So down he went toward Farmer Green’s garden. And near the fence, beside the bridge across the brook, where the field-people often passed, he sat up just as Jimmy Rabbit had told him to.

Pretty soon he saw old Aunt Polly Woodchuck come along with a basketful of goodies which she had gathered in the garden.

“Please, ma’am, I’m hungry,” Billy said. “Nothing has passed my lips for a whole week.” He thought “a week” sounded far better than “two days.”

Now, Aunt Polly was a very old lady and almost blind. She could not see how Billy’s fat sides stuck out. And though she stopped and looked at him closely, she did not know him—for all he was the son of her own nephew.

“My, my!” she said. “How hungry you must be! Here—you just take this basket and go right home and have a good meal. I live ’way over there under the hill. And you can bring my basket home to-night.”

Billy Woodchuck thanked her. He felt somewhat ashamed to take the peas and lettuce and apples and clover-heads. But he remembered it was only a game. And Jimmy Rabbit had said it was all right.

Old Aunt Polly Woodchuck trudged back to the garden again. And Billy hurried back to the place where Jimmy Rabbit was waiting.

“See what I’ve brought!” he said proudly. “Now you take hold of the other side of the basket and we’ll carry it home to my mother.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Jimmy Rabbit.

“Why not?” asked Billy.

“Well—I just wouldn’t. I forgot to remember that it’s bad luck not to sit right down and eat whatever’s given you like this. And you don’t want to have bad luck.”

Billy Woodchuck was sure he didn’t.

“All right, then!” said Jimmy Rabbit. “And they say it’s bad luck if you leave a single scrap uneaten. So I’ll sit down too, and help you.”