He caught three rabbits.
The next morning he was silent and very thoughtful as he helped feed the kittens and change the bay in the hutches.
At last he said rather sadly: "It's sometimes rather awkward being a Dangerfield." "Why ?" said Erebus surprised.
"Those rabbits," said the Terror.

"I want to sell them.

But it's no good going into Rowington and trying to sell them to a poulterer.

Even if he wanted rabbits--which he mightn't--he'd only give me sixpence each for them.

But if I were to sell them myself _here_, I could get eightpence, or perhaps ninepence each for them.