THERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.

The Velveteen Rabbit

"Si un enfant nous aime beaucoup, dit le cheval à roulettes, pas seulement pour jouer, s'il nous aime longtemps et réellement, alors on devient vrai."

Le lapin de velours

Nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.Like the Skin Horse, Margery Williams understood how toys—and people—become real through the wisdom and experience of love. This reissue of a favorite classic, with the original story and illustrations as they first appeared in 1922, will work its magic for all who read it.

Le Lapin de velours

Cela ne se souciait pas de la façon dont il a tourné vers les autres, parce que la magie de la pépinière l'avait rendu réel, et quand vous êtes réel, n'a pas d'importance.

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