Oswald’s great,  great, great, more greats than the stars above  grand-parents lived for centuries in the  Tuileries Garden in the centre of Paris.    Each “great” chose his own magic garment.   Opera clocks lined in scarlet were a particular favorite with many Parisian rabbit.  When darkness fell they would slip their watches  into a magic pocket and become elegant Parisian gentlemen.   You would find them in coffee houses, at  the opera, perusing  antiquarian book stores and of course walking in the Tuileries Garden.

The heart of an adventurer beat in the furry body of Oswald’s great-grandfather.  One day he slipped on his magic coat, pocketed his watch, and at once became part of the new world.  He and his family lived a bucolic life in the country.  Now  a centuries later Oswald and Ma (short for Mahitabel),  Oswald’s younger sister, were the only family s left in the ancient burrow.

Oswald  strolled  in the park of his ancestors.  His shoes covered with the silvery dust that was part of Paris.    He had dined at the same cafe,  Cafe Procopi.   Poked through  the book stores on Rue Bûcherie.   Walked in his family’s footsteps.

Oswald carefully locked the door of his room  in a hotel just off  Rue Bûcherie.  Changing ones shape is exhausting.  You must change from  human form back to your own body for at least an hour every day.  In this manner a rabbit will never age, nor will his human form.   Oswald took out his pocket watch.  It hung it from a leather strap.  He slipped it into the magic pocket.

He was back in his burrow.  Once again he was Oswald, gentleman rabbit.


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