Two white rabbits lived in a hutch in a garden, and their names were Clover and Pinky.
Clover was named for her favorite food — she adored clover above all things, and was happiest when her name was accompanied by a generous bunch of it. Pinky was named for his eyes, which were the most vivid, beautiful pink you could imagine. Clover had pink eyes too, but paler, which Pinky thought entirely right and proper, since he believed the lady of the family should always have the prettier name.
They were both pure white without a touch of black, very tame, and extremely fond of children and green things to eat.
Now, the children who kept them didn’t know something important about rabbits: father rabbits, when their babies are very new and still just soft little scraps of fluff, can sometimes be unkind to them. It isn’t that they mean to be cruel — they simply don’t yet understand what those tiny bundles will become. Mother rabbits know this, and usually hide away when the babies are coming.
But Clover wasn’t nervous. She had watched Pinky carefully, and she somehow trusted that he would be good. And so they weren’t separated, even when the time came.
Seven kits were born — seven of the sweetest, softest, most impossibly small white creatures you ever saw. Clover had quite a time naming them all, but she managed at last. Her eldest son was Bun; her eldest daughter was Bunny. The second son was Pink, after his father, and the second daughter Cloverine, after herself. The third son was Spot, for the small black dot on his nose; the third daughter was Rabbity; and the fourth son was Baby Bun.
And Pinky? He never touched a single one of them with anything but gentleness. He watched Clover feed them and teach them, watched the children lift them carefully and kiss them and declare them precious. He was very proud.
The kits grew up and eventually went to be pets in other children’s homes. And then Clover and Pinky were together again in the quiet garden.
“I miss them,” said Clover. “But I know children will be good to their rabbits. Children have always been so kind to us.”
“So they have,” said Pinky.
And their little noses trembled as they told each other what a fine world it was, with children and clover both in it.
