Monday Interview Series: Peter Rabbit

This week, we were able to sit down and talk with everyone's favorite naughty bunny, Peter Rabbit. He visited The Deliverers Publishing Headquarters with the assurance that there would be some nice, fresh vegetables available, and that Mr. McGregor had not been invited.

So, without further ado, here's our conversation with an older, wiser Peter Rabbit.

Greg:  Welcome, Peter. It's nice to have you here.

Peter:  Thank you, it's very nice to be here. Are, um, those nice cabbages for you, or can anyone have some?

Greg:  No, no, I had them brought in especially for you. Please, help yourself.

Peter:  Well, well, since you've gone to all this trouble, I believe I'll have a little nibble. Mmmm, delicious. Oh, I say, are those carrots? I must tell you that I have a weak spot for carrots. Mr. McGregor grows the best carrots in the district, but these are quite good.

Greg:  Well, don't be bashful. Tuck in. That's quite a smart looking blue coat you've got there.

Peter:  Do you like it? My mother made it. It is rather a favorite of mine, but I almost lost it for good in Mr. McGregor's garden.

Greg:  Really? What happened?

Peter:  Well, it's really all rather embarrassing when I look back on it. I was quite a bit younger then, you see. When I was a young rabbit, I had a passion for vegetables. Still do, I suppose, but back then I was positively mad for them--especially those grown by Mr. McGregor. I was so enamored of them, that I was willing to risk life and limb for a taste.

My poor father, bless him, had the same weakness. Unfortunately, he was not very lucky, even though he possessed four rabbits feet! Mr. McGregor managed to catch my father, and he wound up being baked in one of Mrs. McGregor's horrible pies. Nasty business, really. Um, where was I?

Greg:  You were telling us about your coat.

Peter:  Ah yes. Well, I followed in my father's footsteps, so to speak, and made my way into Mr. McGregor's garden. My mother had warned me of the danger, and told me never to go in there, but I, young scallywag that I was, did not listen to her.

I made it in by slipping under the gate. That was easy enough. I was able to eat  Mr. McGregor's vegetables to my heat's content. That is, until the old geezer spotted me. I led him on a merry chase, I can tell you. However, it was touch and go. I barely made it out under that gate with my skin. I had to leave my coat and shoes behind. Mr. McGregor used them to dress his scarecrow.

Greg:  Oh dear, what did your mother have to say when you returned home, um, naked?

Peter:  She was none too pleased, but she didn't ask any questions--just gave me some tea and sent me to bed. Luckily, my cousin, Benjamin Bunny, helped me to retrieve them.

Greg:  Yes, but isn't it true that you both had to be rescued by your uncle?

Peter:  Er, um, well that may be true, yes. To be totally honest, I can still feel the sting on my backside from his punishment. Back then corporal punishment was quite in vogue. My Uncle Benjamin applied his switch to both of us quite liberally. It was a most painful learning experience.

Greg:  Sometimes those are the most effective. Anyway, thank you for taking some time to visit with us, Peter.

Peter:  It was my pleasure. Thank you for your hospitality. Would you mind terribly if I took some of these carrots home? They really are quite excellent.