It was Easter morning and the happy bells from belfry and steeple were ringing out the glad Easter tidings. Sunday School was just over and Marjorie walked through the Park on her way home. In her arms she carried a large pot of lilies and a little yellow chick,—a tiny fuzzy yellow chicken,—which she had received from the Sunday School for Easter. The flower pot was rather heavy, and after a while, Marjorie became tired, so she sat down on a bench to rest. Crossing one little fat leg over the other she carefully balanced the lily on her knee, and tucked the small chicken under her arm for safe keeping. It was quite windy, and the ribbons on her hat stretched out behind like the tail of a kite, but Marjorie didn't care nearly as much about her pretty Easter hat being blown off her head as she did about the lilies being broken by the breeze. It made so much noise the dried leaves and branches, that she didn't hear a big white bunny creep up softly behind the bench. He looked cautiously around with his bright pink eyes, but there was nobody near. The big policeman, who had passed but a moment before with a smile and a nod to Marjorie, was far down the path. The nurse in gray uniform with the pink and white baby in the smart English carriage, had disappeared in the distance, and, best of all, Marjorie's face was turned the other way. So up jumped Mr. White Bunny on the back of the bench, and creeping along the narrow top rail, commenced very softly to the beautiful green leaves of the Easter Lily.  
The little yellow chicken saw him, but he didn't say a word to Marjorie; he just snuggled up under her arm.
 
Perhaps the bunny looked as big as a polar bear to the fuzzy yellow ch............