It didn’t take the cart-wheeling Wabbit long to reach wherever he was going. Only the Wabbit knew where he was going. Well, for the most part, he knew. But sometimes he just followed his wabbit nose. The Wabbit loved New Year. It was his very favourite day of the whole year and he was searching out a nice district where there might be celebration and song and ... fireworks. Now generally speaking, wabbits do not like fireworks, but the Wabbit was no ordinary wabbit. When the Wabbit saw or heard fireworks his eyes gleamed mischievously and his paw itched and groped for his emergency lighter. Only a very few wabbits knew of the existence of this specialised item, nestling in the Wabbit's fur. “Roman Candles,” thought the Wabbit, “ since I am in the very place for them.” And the Wabbit allowed himself a snicker through his teeth.” I shall find a place to hang out and wait to see what happens. This is going to be the best New Year a wabbit could possibly wish for!” And the Wabbit hopped towards the welcoming light of a cafe, with a song in his head and hope in his heart.
