The second youngest of the Crowfoot brothers was a frequent and often unannounced guest at the library. His name was Joesph - second youngest and the smallest of six. His size made it easy to lose track of him amongst the stacks and piles and shelves of books. He made little noise when he entered the library, and it was not rare for him to pop up (as if out of thin air) after hours of reading in the southwest corner of the second floor, one of his favourite places.
Indeed he was the smallest of his brothers, but what he lacked in size he made up for with an immence immagination. Nothing was beyond him, nothing ever seemed to strike him as strange or impossible. Everything he'd ever read he had also seen and he had no reservations about telling one so. His ability to believe was wild, open, and unconditional. Adults would faint if ever they could see the world through little Joesph's eyes - magic, dreams, and even monsters were brighter, deeper, and meaner than movies or drugs could contrive. Joesph's imagination was a special blessing... most of the time.
One could certainly say that the Tummnus Neighbourhood Children's Library was the wildest of any library. In fact, the credit for it's administration was most often given to the host of fuzzy, feathered, and cool-blooded creatures that mostly freely inhabited it. And it was one particularly fuzzy member of the staff, Harvey - the Chief Director of Hopping and Apiaceae, in fact, that gave little Joesph quite a scare one day...
It was a quiet, december day. The songs of birds and insects had been muted by snow, and the world sat in still, sombre meditation while Joesph sat in his favourite spot engulfed in a new book he'd spotted laying face up on one of the fiction shelves. It was titled Bunnicula, and it had been written by Deborah Howe. The story was about a family who gets a new pet - a bunny... a bunny who might also be.... a vampyre!
Joesph's eyes were fixed on the pages and nearly popping out of his head as he followed the mysterious story. And in the silence of the library that day, and, indeed, in the world at large, he was lost in the images being conjured by his wild imagination. It was in that moment that Harvey, the library's large, white rabbit, hopped, quite innocently, onto Joesph's lap.
The great silence (of perhaps the whole neighbourhood) smashed down in the most blood-curdle-ing, frantic, high-pitched scream any small boy can muster when faced with a diabolical monster... "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Quiet and unobtrusive as he was, Joesph clamoured and crashed and bolted at full speed and full volume straight from the second floor and out into the street before Harvey was even able to straighten his fur from being tossed off the boy's lap.
After a few days to calm down, and several displays of Harvey eating only vegetables, Joesph eventually realized that the rabbit was not a vampyre. And from then on, Mr. and Mrs. Crowfoot took a little more care about checking into what Joesph was reading.