In the dusk of early evening, as Peter Rabbit sat trying to make up his mind whether to spend that night at home in the dear Old Briar-patch with timid little Mrs. Peter or go over to the Green Forest in search of adventure, a very fine, squeaky voice which came right out of the air above him startled him for a moment.  
“Better stay at home, Peter Rabbit. Better stay at home to-night,” said the thin, squeaky voice.
 
“Hello, Flitter!” exclaimed Peter, as he stared up at a little dark form this way, twisting that way, now up, now down, almost brushing Peter's head and then flying so high he could hardly be seen. “Why should I stay at home?”
 
“Because I saw Old Man Coyote along the edge of the Green Forest, Reddy Fox is hunting on the Green Meadows, and Hooty the is on watch in the Old Orchard,” replied Flitter the Red Bat. “Of course it is no business of mine what you do, Peter Rabbit, but were I in your place I certainly would stay at home. Gracious! I'm glad I can go where I please when I please. You ought to fly, Peter. You ought to fly. There is nothing like it.”
 
“I wish I could,” sighed Peter.
 
“Well, don't say I didn't warn you,” Flitter, and away in the direction of Farmer Brown's house. Peter wisely that the dear Old Briar-patch was the best place for him that night, so he remained at home, to the joy of timid little Mrs. Peter, and spent the night eating, and wondering how it would seem to be able to fly like Flitter the Bat.
 
Flitter was still in his mind when he started for school the next morning, and by the time he got there he was bubbling over with curiosity and questions. He could hardly wait for school to be called to order. Old Mother Nature noticed how fidgety he was.
 
“What have you on your mind, Peter?” she asked.
 
“Didn't you tell us that the Shrew family and the family are the only families in this country in the order of insect-eaters?” asked Peter.
 
“I certainly did,” was the prompt reply. “Doesn't Flitter the Bat live on insects?” asked Peter.
 
Old Mother Nature nodded. “He does,” said she. “In fact he lives altogether on insects.”
 
“Then why isn't he a member of that order?” demanded Peter.
 
Old Mother Nature smiled, for she was pleased that Peter had thought of this. “That question does you credit, Peter,” said she. “The reason is that he and his relatives are so very different from other animals that they have been placed in an order of their own. It is called the Chi-rop-ter-a, which means wing-handed. How many of you know Flitter the Bat?”
 
“I've often seen him,” declared Jumper the Hare.
 
“So have I,” said Chatterer the Red Squirrel. Each of the others said the same thing. There wasn't one who hadn't watched and envied Flitter darting about in the air just at dusk of early evening or as the Black Shadows were stealing away in the early morning. Old Mother Nature smiled.
 
“Seeing him isn't knowing him,” said she. “Who is there who knows anything about him and his ways save that he flies at night and catches insects in the air?”
 
She waited a minute or two, but no one . The fact is there was not one who really knew anything about Flitter. “It is one of the strange things of life,” said she, “that people often know nothing about the neighbors whom they see every day. But in this case it is not to be wondered at. I suspect none of you has seen Flitter, excepting in the air, and then he moves so rapidly that there is no chance to get a good look at him. I think this is just the time and place for you to really make the acquaintance of Flitter the Red Bat.”
 
She stepped over to a bush and parted the leaves. Hanging from a was what appeared at first glance to be a , reddish-brown dead leaf. She touched it lightly. At once it came to life, stirring uneasily. A thin, squeaky voice demanded to know what was wanted.
 
“You have some callers, a few of your friends who want to get really acquainted with you. Suppose you wake up for a few minutes,” explained Old Mother Nature pleasantly.
 
Flitter, for that is just who it was, yawned once or twice sleepily, shook himself, then grinned down at the wondering faces of his friends crowded about just under him. “Hello, folks,” said he in that thin, squeaky voice of his.
 
The sunlight fell full on him, but he seemed not to mind it in the least. In fact, he appeared to enjoy its warmth. He was hanging by his toes, head down, his wings folded. He was about four inches long, and his body was much like that of a Mouse. His fur was fine and thick, a beautiful orange-red. For his size his ears were large. Instead of the long head and sharp nose of the Mouse family, Flitter had a rather round head and blunt nose. Almost at once Peter Rabbit made a discovery. It was that Flitter a pair of bright, little, snapping eyes and didn't seem in the least bothered by the bright light.
 
“Where did that saying 'blind as a Bat' ever come from?” demanded Peter.
 
Old Mother Nature laughed. “Goodness knows; I don't,” said she. “There is nothing blind about Flitter. He sleeps through the day and does his hunting in the dusk of evening or early morning, but if he is disturbed and has to fly during the day, he has no trouble in seeing. Flitter, stretch out one of your wings so that everybody can see it.”
 
Obediently Flitter stretched out one of his wings. Everybody , for it was the first time any of them ev............