"You're a Rodent just the same. You've got big gnawing teeth, and
any one with that kind of teeth is a Rodent," retorted Peter. Then
at a sudden thought a funny look passed over his face. "Why, that
means that you and I are related in a way," he added.
"Don't believe it," grunted Prickly Porky, still shuffling along.
"Don't believe it. Don't want to be related to anybody as
heedless as you. What is this school, anyway? Don't want to go to
school. Know all I want to know. Know how to get all I want to eat
and how to make everybody get out of my way and leave me alone, and
that's enough to know." He rattled the thousand little spears
hidden in his coat, and Peter shivered at the sound. It was a most
unpleasant sound.
"Well, some folks do like to be stupid," snapped Peter and hurried
on, lipperty-lipperty-lip, while Prickly Porky slowly shuffled and
rattled along behind.
All the others were there when Peter arrived. Prickly Porky wasn't
even in sight. Old Mother Nature wasted no time. She has too much
to do ever to waste time. She called the school to order at once.
"Yesterday," she began, "I told you about two little haymakers of
the high mountains of the Far West. Who were they, Peter Rabbit?"
"Little Chief Hare, called the Pika or Cony, and Stubtail the
Mountain Beaver or Sewellel," replied Peter with great promptness.
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