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Quotes by Beatrix Potter

Beatrix Potter

“It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is soporific”

After that, there were no more rats for a long time at Tabitha Twitchit's. As for Farmer Potatoes, he has been driven nearly distracted. There are rats, and rats, and rats in his barn! They eat up the chicken food, and steal the oats and bran, and make holes in the meal bags. And they are all descended from Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Whiskers-- children and grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren. There is no end to them! Moppet and Mittens have grown up into very good rat-catchers. They go out rat-catching in the village, and they find plenty of employment. They charge so much a dozen and earn their living very comfortably. They hang up the rats' tails in a row on the barn door, to show how many they have caught--dozens and dozens of them. But Tom Kitten has always been afraid of a rat; he never durst face anything that is bigger than-- A Mouse. THE TALE OF THE FLOPSY BUNNIES [For All Little Friends of Mr. McGregor and Peter and Benjamin] It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is "soporific." I have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces; but then I am not a rabbit. They certainly had a very soporific effect upon the Flopsy Bunnies! When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his Cousin Flopsy. They had a large family, and they were very improvident and cheerful. I do not remember the separate names of their children; they were generally called the "Flopsy Bunnies." As there was not always quite enough to eat,--Benjamin used to borrow cabbages from Flopsy's brother, Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden. Sometimes Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare. When this happened, the Flopsy Bunnies went across the field to a rubbish heap, in the ditch outside Mr. McGregor's garden. Mr. McGregor's rubbish heap was a mixture. There were jam pots and paper bags, and mountains of chopped grass from the mowing machine (which always tasted oily), and some rotten vegetable marrows and an old boot or two. One day--oh joy!--there were a quantity of overgrown lettuces, which had "shot" into flower.

“I am worn to a raveling.”

For the lining of the coat there was fine yellow taffeta, and for the button- holes of the waistcoat there was cherry-coloured twist. And everything was ready to sew together in the morning, all measured and sufficient--except that there was wanting just one single skein of cherry-coloured twisted silk. The tailor came out of his shop at dark. No one lived there at nights but little brown mice, and THEY ran in and out without any keys! For behind the wooden wainscots of all the old houses in Gloucester, there are little mouse staircases and secret trap-doors; and the mice run from house to house through those long, narrow passages. But the tailor came out of his shop and shuffled home through the snow. And although it was not a big house, the tailor was so poor he only rented the kitchen. He lived alone with his cat; it was called Simpkin. "Miaw?" said the cat when the tailor opened the door, "miaw?" The tailor replied: "Simpkin, we shall make our fortune, but I am worn to a ravelling. Take this groat (which is our last fourpence), and, Simpkin, take a china pipkin, but a penn'orth of bread, a penn'orth of milk, and a penn'orth of sausages. And oh, Simpkin, with the last penny of our fourpence but me one penn'orth of cherry-coloured silk. But do not lose the last penny of the fourpence, Simpkin, or I am undone and worn to a thread-paper, for I have NO MORE TWIST." Then Simpkin again said "Miaw!" and took the groat and the pipkin, and went out into the dark. The tailor was very tired and beginning to be ill. He sat down by the hearth and talked to himself about that wonderful coat. "I shall make my fortune--to be cut bias--the Mayor of Gloucester is to be married on Christmas Day in the morning, and he hath ordered a coat and an embroidered waistcoat--" Then the tailor started; for suddenly, interrupting him, from the dresser at the other side of the kitchen came a number of little noises-- Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip! "Now what can that be?

“The Tale of Peter Rabbit”

You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck Author: Beatrix Potter Release date: January 27, 2005 [eBook #14814] Most recently updated: December 19, 2020 Language: English *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK *** E-text prepared by Robert Cicconetti, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 14814-h.htm or 14814-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/1/14814/14814-h/14814-h.htm) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/8/1/14814/14814-h.zip) THE TALE OF JEMIMA PUDDLE-DUCK by BEATRIX POTTER Author of "The Tale of Peter Rabbit," &c Frederick Warne & Co., Inc. New York 1908 [Illustration] [Illustration] A FARMYARD TALE FOR RALPH AND BETSY [Illustration] What a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen! --Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs. [Illustration] Her sister-in-law, Mrs. Rebeccah Puddle-duck, was perfectly willing to leave the hatching to some one else--"I have not the patience to sit on a nest for twenty-eight days; and no more have you, Jemima. You would let them go cold; you know you would!" "I wish to hatch my own eggs; I will hatch them all by myself," quacked Jemima Puddle-duck. [Illustration] She tried to hide her eggs; but they were always found and carried off. Jemima Puddle-duck became quite desperate. She determined to make a nest right away from the farm. [Illustration] She set off on a fine spring afternoon along the cart-road that leads over the hill.

“All outward forms of religion are almost useless, and are the causes of endless strife. . . . Believe there is a great power silently working all things for good, behave yourself and never mind the rest.”

“Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.”

“Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality.”

Believe there is a great power silently working all things for good, behave yourself and never mind the rest.

There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where theyll take you.

Thank goodness I was never sent to school it would have rubbed off some of the originality.

Thank goodness my education was neglected.

In Summer there were white and damask roses, and the smell of thyme and musk. In Spring there were green gooseberries and throstles [thrush], and the flowers they call ceninen [daffodils]. And leeks and cabbages also grew in that garden; and between long straight alleys, and apple-trained espaliers, there were beds of strawberries, and mint, and sage.

If I have done anything, even a little, to help small children enjoy honest, simple pleasures, I have done a bit of good.

Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.

I cannot rest, I must draw, however poor the result, and when I have a bad time come over me it is a stronger desire than ever.

The place is changed now, and many familiar faces are gone, but the greatest change is myself. I was a child then, I had no idea what the world would be like. I wished to trust myself on the waters and the sea. Everything was romantic in my imagination. The woods were peopled by the mysterious good folk. The Lords and Ladies of the last century walked with me along the overgrown paths, and picked the old fashioned flowers among the box and rose hedges of the garden.

I hold that a strongly marked personality can influence descendants for generations.

Sunday, January 27, 1884. -- There was another story in the paper a week or so since. A gentleman had a favourite cat whom he taught to sit at the dinner table where it behaved very well. He was in the habit of putting any scraps he left onto the cats plate. One day puss did not take his place punctually, but presently appeared with two mice, one of which it placed on its masters plate, the other on its own.

Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some chamomile tea: One table-spoonful to be taken at bedtime.

Believe there is a great power silently working all things for good behave yourself and never mind the rest.

All outward forms of religion are almost useless, and are the causes of endless strife. Believe there is a great power silently working all things for good, behave yourself and never mind the rest.

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