It was a sad day in Dingley Dell when Mrs Rabbit passed away. She was buried alongside where her beloved husband was laid to rest a few years ago. They had both requested to be placed in the same grave yard as Mrs Rabbit’s parents. It was a Wednesday and all the folk had gathered together to remember her. She was well loved by everyone, mainly as the proprietor of the Dingley Dell Tea Rooms. But this was not Tabatha Rabbit. This was Rebecca Rabbit, Tabatha’s daughter. Rebecca had taken over the Tea rooms after her mother had passed away many many years ago. While everyone knew Rebecca from the Tea Rooms, she was also well known for her campaigning. Her mother had always joked about how Rebecca had started campaigning for Ballet lessons when she was very little and how she had been a campaigner ever since.
Once grown up Rebecca had campaigned for the building of a Town Hall in Dingley Dell. Now this had been quite a long and hard fought campaign. It would be expensive and everyone would have to contribute. “It will put Dingley Dell on the map” she had said. “But why?” said Marcus Rabbit, “No one needs a map. There’s the Port, a straight path, up and down the hill, through Dingley Dell and out to the sorting office”. “Shut up Marcus” said Rebecca to her husband with a smile on her face.
No one was that keen when they saw what it would cost but they started to come around to the idea after The Sugar Mill had made a large donation. Then when they heard it would have a clock tower they warmed to it. Finally, Rebecca had won them all over by pointing out that if Dingley Dell had a TOWN HALL then that would make it a town rather than a village. And so it was decided. The same bricklayer who built the Sugar Mill was engaged to build the Town Hall. The clock was imported from OFFERSLAND where the finest clockmakers were to be found.Dingley Dell was declared to be a town by the Sorting Office so that confirmed it.
But Rebecca didn’t stop there. As soon as the last tile was laid on the top of the tower she started campaigning for a town council and a mayor.This was going too far. The towns folk would have to pay these councillors and the mayor. “What would they do?” Many asked. “Well, maintain the path” said Rebecca. They looked at the path. “The path doesn’t need maintaining, what else?” they said. “Well, they would decide on how much they would be paid” said Rebecca. She knew she was losing the battle. She had got agreement that someone would have to wind the clock. However this was only after she had agreed that this would be paid for indefinitely by adding a tiny amount to the price of teas in her tea room. To start with Marcus Rabbit had been conscripted to this role but when he was too old to manage the stairs they took on Sothwik Sloth.
The bell in the tower was rung especially on that Wednesday in honour of Rebecca Rabbit.