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Title: Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty
Author: Howard Roger Garis
Illustrator: Louis Wisa
Release date: May 11, 2024 [eBook #73603]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: A. L. Burt Company, 1920
Credits: Richard Tonsing, David Edwards, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNCLE WIGGILY AND BABY BUNTY ***
[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]
UNCLE WIGGILY
[TRADE MARK REGISTERED]
AND
BABY BUNTY
_by_
HOWARD R. GARIS
_Author of_ “UNCLE WIGGILY BEDTIME STORIES”, “UNCLE WIGGILY’S PICTURE
BOOK”, “UNCLE WIGGILY’S STORY BOOK”, Etc.
_Illustrated by_
LOUIS WISA
[Illustration: [Logo]]
A. L. BURT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
UNCLE WIGGILY BOOKS
(TRADE MARK REGISTERED)
_by_
HOWARD R. GARIS
BEDTIME STORIES
UNCLE WIGGILY and CHARLIE and ARABELLA CHICK
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE RINGTAILS
UNCLE WIGGILY ON SUGAR ISLAND
UNCLE WIGGILY AT THE SEASHORE
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BABY BUNTY
UNCLE WIGGILY IN THE COUNTRY
UNCLE WIGGILY’S PUZZLE BOOK
UNCLE WIGGILY IN THE WOODS
UNCLE WIGGILY’S ADVENTURES
UNCLE WIGGILY’S AUTOMOBILE
UNCLE WIGGILY ON THE FARM
UNCLE WIGGILY’S BUNGALOW
UNCLE WIGGILY’S FORTUNE
UNCLE WIGGILY’S TRAVELS
UNCLE WIGGILY’S AIRSHIP
Larger Uncle Wiggily Volumes
UNCLE WIGGILY’S PICTURE BOOK
_33 full colored illustrations and 32 in black and white_
UNCLE WIGGILY’S STORY BOOK
_16 full colored illustrations and 29 in black and white_
_Copyright 1920 by_
R. F. FENNO & COMPANY
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BABY BUNTY
_Printed in the United States of America_
STORY I
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BABY BUNTY
“Ouch! Oh, dear! My! My!”
That was what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy heard one day in the hollow stump
bungalow. She was just getting breakfast for Uncle Wiggily Longears, the
bunny gentleman.
“My goodness me sakes alive and a basket of potato chips!” cried Nurse
Jane, accidentally dropping a stewed carrot into the turnip marmalade.
“I hope the Skeezicks, or the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon hasn’t
caught Mr. Longears!”
She looked in the dining room. The uncle bunny had just come downstairs
to his breakfast.
“Ouch! Oh, me! Oh, my!” groaned Uncle Wiggily as he sat down in his
chair, which was gnawed out of a grape vine root.
“Why, no one is biting him,” said Nurse Jane, as she looked all around.
“Whatever in the world is the matter, Wiggy?” she asked, bringing in his
breakfast turnip.
“Oh, I’m getting old, I guess,” he answered. “My joints are stiff, and
it isn’t all rheumatism, either. I can’t move around as spry as I’d like
to. Every time I bend over, or stoop, or try to hurry I get aches and
pains and——”
“Oh, nonsense!” laughed Nurse Jane. “You only imagine it. You’re as
young as ever! What you need is some one lively around the house. Some
one to chase you, to tag you and make you spry. I can’t do it, because I
have the housework to look after. But if you could get some bright,
frisky, lively little chap—why, you’d be a different rabbit.”
“I s’pose I would,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Do you mean to get Johnnie or
Billie Bushytail, one of the squirrel boys? They’re lively enough.”
“Yes, they’re lively enough,” said Nurse Jane, “but they have to frisk
around their own home nest. You want some one to stay here with you a
long time.”
“All right,” said Uncle Wiggily, sad like and not very hopeful. “After
breakfast I’ll go to the five and six cent store and see if I can get a
lively little chap to cheer me up.”
“You won’t find any at the five and six, nor even at the ten and eleven
cent store,” said Nurse Jane. “True, the little mousie girl clerks are
lively enough, but they have to work. You need a—well, a sort of
companion. I’m getting too old for you.”
“Nonsense!” scoffed Uncle Wiggily.
But, as he hopped over the fields and through the woods after breakfast
the more he thought of what Nurse Jane had said the more he knew she was
right.
“I need some one lively to make me jump around,” thought the bunny. “If
only I could get a——”
Just then he heard a little voice calling:
“Let me out! Let me out.”
“Ha! Where does that voice come from?” asked the bunny. “Where are you,
whoever you are?”
“In this hollow stump, right behind you!” answered the voice. “Oh, I
hate being cooped up here! I want to get out and jump around and chase
my shadow and jump over moonbeams and all things like that.”
“Are you—are you a fairy?” asked Uncle Wiggily sort of hopeful like. “If
I help you out of the hollow stump, could you make me feel younger and
more lively?”
“Of course I could; but I’m not a fairy,” was the answer, given with a
jolly laugh.
“You must be a fairy or else you couldn’t take away my old-age aches and
pains,” said the bunny. “Well, as long as you aren’t the
skillery-scalery alligator, or the Pipsisewah, I’ll let you out. But how
did you get in?”
“Let me out and I’ll tell you,” said the voice.
The hollow stump was partly filled with old dried leaves, broken sticks
and bits of bark. Uncle Wiggily scraped all this away with his paws, and
out popped the dearest little girl rabbit you ever saw.
“Oh, who are you?” asked Uncle Wiggily in surprise.
“I am Baby Bunty,” was the answer. “I was going through the woods with
my papa and mamma a while ago, but a bad fox caught them, and I was left
all alone. So I hid in the hollow stump, the birds piled leaves and bits
of bark over me to cover me, but when it rained it was packed down so
hard that I couldn’t get out. So I had to cry for help.”
“Well, I’m glad I helped you,” said the bunny. “But how are you going to
make me feel young again——”
“Tag! You’re it!” suddenly cried Baby Bunty, tapping Uncle Wiggily with
her paw. “Now you have to chase me!” and away she hopped through the
woods.
“My goodness! If she goes along like that, all alone, the fox will catch
her!” said Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll have to run after her! But my aches—my
pains—oh dear!”
Away hopped the rabbit gentleman, after Baby Bunty. She ran fast and so
did Uncle Wiggily, and when they reached his hollow stump bungalow he
was so warm and excited and so anxious about Baby Bunty—why, he wasn’t
lame or stiff a bit! Can you imagine?
“I told you so!” laughed Nurse Jane, when she saw the baby rabbit, which
Mr. Longears said he would keep in his bungalow. “Now that you have some
one young around you’ll get younger yourself.”
And Mr. Longears did. And if the top of the house doesn’t go down cellar
to see why the laundry tubs can’t wash the coal white, I’ll tell you
next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s skates.
STORY II
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SKATES
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was asleep in his
hollow stump bungalow one morning, when he heard, as if in a dream,
Nurse Jane Fuzzy ring the breakfast bell.
“Oh! Um! Ah! I don’t hardly believe I’ll get up this morning!” said
Uncle Wiggily, sort of stretchy like. “You may keep breakfast for me,
Nurse Jane.”
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! You must get up! You must get up! You must get up!
Oh, Uncle Wiggily, you must get up! You must get up today! Right away!”
sang a jolly little voice.
Uncle Wiggily gave a sudden start. All his aches and pains seemed to go
away at once, and he felt as spry as a new grasshopper.
“Hello! Who’s down there?” he called from the top of the stairs, for the
voice seemed to come from the dining room, down below. “Who wants me to
get up?”
“It’s Baby Bunty!” said Nurse Jane. “Have you forgotten that you brought
her home from a hollow stump yesterday, and that she’s going to live
here?”
“Oh, I did forget!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Is she still here?”
“Well, you’d better come down here and look after her while I get
breakfast!” said Nurse Jane. “I never saw such a lively little rabbit
before! She nearly jumped over the milk bottle while I had my back
turned!”
Uncle Wiggily smiled until his pink nose twinkled on both sides at once.
“So Baby Bunty is lively, is she?” said the bunny gentleman. “Well,
that’s just what I need to keep me from getting old and stiff.”
“Hurry, Uncle Wiggily! Hurry!” called Baby Bunty.
“What’s the hurry?” asked Mr. Longears, as he smoothed out his fur with
a pine tree cone for a brush.
“Why, this is the first of May!” went on the little rabbit girl, who was
going to live with Uncle Wiggily. “It’s the first of May and we’re going
out and gather flowers today, tra-la!”
“Who’s going?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he came downstairs to breakfast.
“You and I are going to gather flowers. We’ll have fun, many joyful
hours!” sang Baby Bunty, as she danced about the breakfast room like a
sunbeam playing tag with a pussy cat.
“Oh, oh! We’ll see about that!” said Uncle Wiggily. “Now you run out and
play while I eat, and then we’ll see what happens. Did you have your
breakfast?”
“Oh, yes, Baby Bunty was up as soon as I was,” said Nurse Jane.
Uncle Wiggily ate his breakfast slowly and carefully. He didn’t like to
hurry except when the Pipsisewah was chasing him. And after he had eaten
some carrot pancakes, Uncle Wiggily felt sort of lazy like and
comfortable.
“I’ll play a little trick on Baby Bunty,” he thought. “I don’t believe
it will do my old bones good to go off in the damp woods so early in the
morning to gather flowers. I’ll wait until the sun is warmer. I’ll just
stay here and go to sleep. She’ll forget all about me.”
So Uncle Wiggily curled up in the easy chair, thinking how good it felt
to rest his tired bones and joints. But, all of a sudden, as he was sort
of dozing off to sleep, he heard Nurse Jane cry:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Come here! Come quickly! There goes Baby Bunty off
on her skates.”
“Baby Bunty? Going off on her skates! Why, she hasn’t any skates!” cried
the rabbit gentleman, suddenly waking up! “She’s too little to have
roller skates, and it isn’t the time of year for ice skates. How you
talk, Nurse Jane!”
“Well, there she goes, anyhow!” said the muskrat lady. “She’s a lively
little tyke, is Baby Bunty. She made herself a pair of roller skates out
of some old round clothespins, and there she goes on them, skating down
the woodland path. You’d better run after her, Uncle Wiggily, or a bad
fox may catch her!”
“That’s so!” cried Uncle Wiggily. Then he forgot all about his stiff
joints, and how he used to have rheumatism and all that. Away he hopped
and ran and leaped and jumped after Baby Bunty. And away the little
Bunty went on her clothespin roller skates.
“Come on, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried to him. “See if you can catch me!”
Well, Uncle Wiggily finally did, but it was hard work, and he was so out
of breath when he finally ran and caught up to Baby Bunty that he could
hardly twinkle his pink nose at all.
“Isn’t this jolly!” laughed the little bunny girl tyke. “Now we can get
May flowers! I wanted you to be lively and come, and you did. You came
right after me!”
“Yes, but you led me quite a chase!” panted Uncle Wiggily. “However, I
guess I feel better after it. I’m not stiff, now!” And he wasn’t a bit,
and he and Baby Bunty gathered a fine bouquet of May blossoms. And if
the molasses jug doesn’t get stuck in the alley when it’s trying to run
through and tag the sugar cookie, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily
and Bunty’s ride.
STORY III
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S RIDE
Out in front of the hollow stump bungalow sat Uncle Wiggily’s
automobile. He had put on it a new turnip steering wheel, and he was
thinking of going for a ride, when Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy came out on
the front stoop and said:
“Here’s the pepper caster, Mr. Longears.”
“Pepper caster? What do I want of that when I’m going for a ride in my
auto?” asked the bunny, in surprise. “I don’t need it!”
“Why, yes, you do,” spoke Nurse Jane. “Don’t you remember? You always
sprinkle pepper on the sausage tires of your auto, when you want to go
fast. And you might want to go fast today.”
“So I might,” said Uncle Wiggily, reflective like, and slow. “So I
might. Thank you, Nurse Jane.”
The bunny rabbit gentleman took the pepper caster from the muskrat lady,
but still he did not get in his auto and take a ride. Instead he sat
down on a bench in front of his bungalow, and he let the sun shine
through his whiskers and on his pink, twinkling nose.
“I think I’ll sit here and take a rest,” spoke Uncle Wiggily. “I did
have it in mind to go for a ride, but it is very nice here. It does my
old rheumatic joints good to let the sun soak in. I’ll just be lazy and
comfortable like today.”
So he took some soft cushions out of the Sunday parlor part of his auto,
made himself a little bed on the bench at the sunny side of his machine,
and snuggled down.
“Oh, what a funny looking rabbit you are!” cried a jolly little voice
all of a sudden. “Come on and play with me, Uncle Wiggily!”
“No, Baby Bunty! Not today!” answered Mr. Longears, not even bothering
to open his eyes, he was so lazy like and self-contained. But even if he
did not see her, he knew it was Baby Bunty speaking. She was the lively
little rabbit girl he had found in a hollow stump, and had brought home
to live with him.
“Oh, come and play tag!” begged Bunty.
“No! Nope! Nopey!” said Mr. Longears slowly. “I just want to sit and
rest. My joints are too stiff to play tag!”
Then everything grew quiet and peaceful, and Uncle Wiggily thought Baby
Bunty had gone away so he could go to sleep. Baby Bunty had gone away,
but in a very queer way.
All of a sudden Uncle Wiggily was awakened by hearing Nurse Jane call
out:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Baby Bunty is having a ride.”
“Is she?” asked the bunny slowly. “That’s good! I hope she has a nice
one!”
“Oh, but listen!” cried the muskrat lady. “Baby Bunty jumped in your
auto while you were asleep, and she sprinkled some pepper on the bologna
sausage tires, and now she’s riding away! Run after her! Hop after her
and catch her in the auto, or she may be hurt!”
“Oh, my! Oh, my goodness!” cried Uncle Wiggily. He was wide awake now,
and he forgot all about his stiff joints and wanting to rest.
On through the woods he hopped. Faster and faster rode Baby Bunty in the
runaway auto. Faster and faster hopped Uncle Wiggily. Quicker and
quicker went Baby Bunty in the skippily auto. Quicker and quicker hopped
Uncle Wiggily after her.
“Stop! Stop!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “What are you trying to do?”
“Oh! I wanted to have some fun, and make you chase me,” said Baby Bunty.
“But I didn’t mean to go so fast, and now I can’t stop! Save me! Save
me!”
“I will if I can!” panted Uncle Wiggily. He wasn’t a bit lazy or sleepy
now. Nor were his joints stiff! He was as lively as a cricket.
Suddenly, just as Baby Bunty, not knowing much about automobiles, was
going to run into a tree, Uncle Wiggily gave a big skip and a hop and
caught up to her. In he jumped, shut off the gasolene, put on the brakes
and saved Bunty. Then the little rabbit girl smiled sweetly and said:
“Thank you, Uncle Wiggily. I thought I could make you come and have a
ride with me.”
“Well—dont—do—it—again!” said the rabbit gentleman, all out of breath
like. “You are getting too lively for me, Baby Bunty! Altogether too
lively!”
Still he liked her, and if the can opener doesn’t take the top off the
powdered sugar basin and make the goldfish sneeze, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s balloon.
STORY IV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S BALLOON
“Is she here?” whispered Uncle Wiggily to his muskrat lady housekeeper,
Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, as he hopped into his hollow stump bungalow one
day.
“Do you mean Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady, who was just here calling
on me?” asked Nurse Jane. “If you mean her, she has gone.”
“No, I mean Baby Bunty. Is she here?” asked Uncle Wiggily, still
whispering and looking all around the bungalow, while he twinkled his
pink nose expectant like.
“Baby Bunty isn’t here,” said Nurse Jane. “I gave her a penny a while
ago and she said she was going down to the one-cent store and buy a toy
balloon.”
“Ah! Then I can come in and have a rest,” said the rabbit gentleman.
“Baby Bunty is good to keep an old rabbit man’s joints from getting
stiff,” he said, as he stretched out in his easy chair, “but too much of
it is quite enough. I’ll be glad of a little rest.”
Baby Bunty, you know, was a cute little rabbit girl, whose father and
mother had been taken away by a fox. Uncle Wiggily found Baby Bunty in
the woods in a hollow stump, and brought her home with him.
“She’s so lively she’ll keep you from getting old and stiff,” said Nurse
Jane. And Baby Bunty was very lively like and always doing something.
“But now, since she has gone down the woodland path to buy a toy
balloon, I’ll sit here and rest,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll take a nap
until it’s time to eat dinner.”
Uncle Wiggily stretched out in his easy chair. Soon his pink, twinkly
nose was still and quiet. Mr. Longears was asleep.
The bunny rabbit gentleman was just dreaming he was chasing Baby Bunty
through the woods in his automobile when, all of a sudden, in came
running Billie Wagtail, the goat boy.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Uncle Wiggily!” bleated Billie. “You ought to see
her!”
“See whom?” asked Mr. Longears, waking up so suddenly that his nose
twinkled twice as fast as it ought. “See whom?”
“Baby Bunty!” answered the goat boy. “She’s away up in the air sailing
over the treetops!”
“She is?” cried the bunny gentleman. “Oh, dear! Some more of her tricks
to keep me from getting old and stiff, I suppose. Did she take my
airship out, as she ran away in my auto yesterday?” he asked Nurse Jane.
[Illustration: [Airship]]
“I think not,” answered the muskrat lady. “Your airship is still in the
stable. And are you sure you saw her up above the trees, Billie?”
“Oh, yes’m! And here comes Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel! He saw her,
too!” bleated the goat boy.
“What’s the matter with Baby Bunty?” asked Uncle Wiggily of the chattery
chap.
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Johnnie. “But she’s sailing around just
like an airship—over the tops of the trees. Come out and see!”
Out rushed Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane and Billie, the goat, and
Johnnie, the squirrel. Surely enough, up above their heads, was Baby
Bunty floating along like a cloud.
“Oh, dear!” cried Uncle Wiggily; “that little rabbit girl is always
doing something. But I must chase after her! I must get her down!
“Quick, Nurse Jane. Bring out my flying suit of leather! Billie, you and
Johnnie run my airship out of the barn! I’ll have to sail up in my
airship and bring down Baby Bunty, but I don’t see how she got up
there!”
Uncle Wiggily was soon seated on the sofa cushions of his airship, which
had toy circus balloons to raise it up and an electric fan that went
whizzieizzie to speed it along. Soon he was sailing over the tree tops,
up near where Baby Bunty was floating.
“Oh, dear! How did you ever get up here?” asked the rabbit gentleman.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to! Really I didn’t!” said Baby Bunty, half crying.
“But I’m glad you came after me, for it will keep you from getting old
and stiff!”
“Yes, I s’pose it will!” said Uncle Wiggily, as he sailed close to the
little bunny girl and took her into the clothes basket part of his
airship. “Ah! Ha! I see how you came to rise off the earth!” he said.
“You blew your penny toy balloon up so big that it swelled and raised
you up; didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Baby Bunty, “I did. But I didn’t mean to. I just blew and
blew into my toy balloon and it got bigger and bigger, and then I
couldn’t get the air out, and the balloon began to go up and I began to
go up, and—well, I’m glad you came and got me!” she finished.
“Yes,” said Uncle Wiggily, “I s’pose you are. But don’t do it again.”
Then he let the air out of the toy balloon that Baby Bunty had blown too
big for herself, and Mr. Longears took the little rabbit girl down to
earth in his airship. And everybody said:
“Isn’t Baby Bunty cute!”
“Yes,” said Mr. Longears, “she is. No one would get stiff joints with
her around.” And if the box of talcum powder doesn’t blow smoke in the
eyes of the potatoes and make them blink, I’ll tell you next about Uncle
Wiggily and Bunty’s doll.
STORY V
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S DOLL
“Where is Bunty?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman,
one morning, as he came down to breakfast in his hollow stump bungalow.
“Oh, Bunty has gone out to play, long ago!” said Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy.
“Well, I’m glad of that,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, with a sigh, sort of
restful like and ample. “It’s a good thing to have Bunty go out and
play.”
“Do you mean it’s good for her?” asked Nurse Jane, as she sliced some
carrots for the bunny’s breakfast and poured maple sugar sauce over
them.
“It’s restful for Bunty and restful for me,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Do you
know, Nurse Jane,” he went on, “since I found Baby Bunty, that cute
little rabbit girl, in a hollow stump and brought her home to live with
us, she certainly has kept me going. Yes, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Longears,
explosive like and inflammatory, at the same time documentary, “she
certainly has kept me busy!”
“But it’s good for you,” said Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady
housekeeper. “You haven’t looked so well in months. Baby Bunty, by being
lively, and making you chase her every once in a while, keeps you from
getting stiff.”
“Well, yes, perhaps,” admitted the bunny rabbit. “But, at the same time
I am glad she has gone out to play this morning. Now, after breakfast, I
can sit and read my paper in peace and restfulness.”
And, when he had finished eating his turnip turnovers, with lettuce
frosting on, Uncle Wiggily sat down in his easy chair in the sunshine,
and began to look over the Cabbage Leaf Gazette, which is the newspaper
of the animal people of Woodland, near the Orange Ice Mountains.
But just as Uncle Wiggily was reading how Grandfather Goosey Gander had
a cold in his bill and couldn’t quack very well, Nurse Jane suddenly
cried:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Come here as quickly as you can. Hurry!”
“What’s the matter now?” asked the rabbit gentleman, as he dropped his
paper and gave three hops, a jump and part of a skip to the window, out
of which Nurse Jane was looking. “What’s the matter?”
“See! There goes Baby Bunty’s doll!” said the muskrat lady. “It’s
skidding along over the ground as fast as the skillery-scalery alligator
can crawl. Baby Bunty’s doll is running away, and she’ll feel so badly!”
“Baby Bunty’s doll running away? Impossible!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “The
doll isn’t alive—it can’t run away!”
“But it is!” said Nurse Jane. “See it skiddle along!”
And, as true as I’m telling you, there was Baby Bunty’s doll, moving
along the woodland path, over the green moss, over the green grass, over
the brown leaves in and out among the green ferns. The doll was sliding
along the ground, but no one was dragging her or pulling her or pushing
her—that is as far as Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane could see.
“Did you ever? Can you imagine it!” cried the muskrat lady.
“I can see it!” said the bunny, rubbing his eyes, and his pink,
twinkling nose, to make sure he was awake.
“I can see it!” said Uncle Wiggily. “I don’t have to imagine it. But
what makes that doll go I don’t know. Some dolls can walk and talk, but
I never saw one slide along all by herself before.”
“Run after it, quickly!” cried Nurse Jane. “Baby Bunty will feel very
badly if her doll is lost! Run after it for her!”
“I will,” said the rabbit gentleman. Not stopping to put on his tall,
silk hat, and forgetting all about his red, white and blue striped
rheumatism crutch, out of his hollow stump bungalow rushed Uncle
Wiggily. After the doll he hopped.
But as fast as he hopped the doll skiddled along just as fast, always
keeping ahead of Mr. Longears.
“Oh, ho! I’ll get you yet!” cried the bunny. And he hopped faster and
faster. But the doll skiddled along even more quickly. Uncle Wiggily was
hopping as he had never hopped before.
“What makes that doll skiddle along?” panted the bunny, all out of
breath. “I cannot see any one pulling or pushing her. It can’t be a
trick of the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon, for I can see neither of
those bad chaps. What makes the doll move along? I must find out, but
first I must get hold of it!”
So the bunny hopped along faster and faster, and the doll skiddled along
until, all of a sudden, Baby Bunty’s play-toy caught on a twisted tree
root, was held fast, and Uncle Wiggily, making a big jump, grabbed it.
Then he saw that a thin, black but very strong thread was tied around
the doll.
“Ha! Some one was pulling that doll along by this black string, and I
couldn’t see it,” said the rabbit gentleman. “I wonder who did it?”
“I did!” cried a jolly voice, and out from behind a bush jumped Baby
Bunty. “I tied the long thread to my doll, and then I hopped ahead and
pulled the doll after me!” said Baby Bunty. “I wanted you to hop along
fast, and not get stiff, Uncle Wiggily, and you did! Ho! Ho! Ha! Ha!”
Uncle Wiggily rubbed his pink nose. He shook his paw at Baby Bunty, but
he couldn’t help laughing.
“I’m not stiff now,” he said, “but I may be tomorrow.”
“Oh, no you won’t!” laughed Baby Bunty! And if the bath tub doesn’t
sprinkle paregoric perfume on the wash rag, thinking it’s a
handkerchief, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s
medicine.
STORY VI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S MEDICINE
“Oh, Baby Bunty! Baby Bunty!” called Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, to the
little rabbit girl, who had been found in a hollow stump by Uncle
Wiggily Longears. “Ho, Baby Bunty! Come here, quickly!” called the
muskrat lady housekeeper of the rabbit’s bungalow.
“Does Uncle Wiggily want to play tag with me, or hide-and-go-seek?”
asked Baby Bunty, as she came running in from the front yard. She had
been playing dolls with Susie Littletail, the big rabbit girl, and with
Lulu and Alice Wibblewobble, the duck girls. “Does Uncle Wiggily want to
chase me?” asked Baby Bunty.
“No, indeed!” answered Nurse Jane. “You are altogether too lively for
Uncle Wiggily, I’m afraid. He is so stiff and lame, from having chased
your doll yesterday, as you were pulling it along through the wood by a
string—Uncle Wiggily is so lame from his fast hopping that you’ll have
to go get Dr. Possum.”
“What for?” asked Baby Bunty, who was, indeed, a lively little rabbit
girl, always wanting the bunny gentleman to play with her and chase her.
She said it kept him lively. Well, it did to a certain extent. “Why does
Unk Wig want Dr. Possum?” asked Baby Bunty, giving Mr. Longears one of
his pet names.
“Because he is ill,” said Nurse Jane. “He is so lame and stiff that he
just sits in an easy chair and grunts. Dr. Possum will come and give
Uncle Wiggily some medicine and then he’ll be better.”
“All right! I’ll go!” said Baby Bunty, and pretty soon she came riding
back with the animal doctor in his automobile.
“My! But you came quickly!” said Nurse Jane, as Dr. Possum stopped his
car amid a shower of leaves, in front of Uncle Wiggily’s hollow stump
bungalow.
“I just had to!” said Dr. Possum, getting out and curling his long tail
around his satchel of pink, blue, red, yellow and skilligimink colored
pills. “Baby Bunty said if I didn’t ride here as fast as I could make
the auto go, maybe Uncle Wiggily would never get better.”
“Oh, I think it isn’t quite as bad as that,” said Nurse Jane. “Still
Uncle Wiggily is very lame and stiff. He says he can’t move, from having
hopped too lively yesterday.”
“Hum! Anybody would be lively where Baby Bunty was,” spoke Dr. Possum.
“Now, I’ll have a look at my Uncle Wiggily friend.”
Well, Dr. Possum gave Mr. Longears red pills and pink pills and yellow
pills and brown pills, but still, all that day, the rabbit gentleman sat
in his chair and grunted and groaned and said he was so stiff he
couldn’t move. Dr. Possum shook his head.
“I can’t understand it,” he said. “There doesn’t seem to be much the
matter with Uncle Wiggily, but yet he won’t get up and move about.
Suppose you make him some sassafras tea,” he said to Nurse Jane.
“I will,” she promised. So Dr. Possum went away, and Nurse Jane went out
in the woods to dig up some sassafras roots, and Baby Bunty was left
home with Uncle Wiggily. The rabbit gentleman sat in his easy chair,
with his eyes shut and his pink nose twinkled hardly any.
“How do you feel now?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Oh, perhaps if I read the paper I’d feel better,” said Mr. Longears.
Baby Bunty handed it to him.
“Now, if you’ll give me my glasses, my dear,” went on Uncle Wiggily,
“I’ll sit here and read until Nurse Jane comes back.”
A queer look came over Baby Bunty’s face.
“Where are your glasses?” she asked.
“On the mantel,” said the rabbit gentleman. Baby Bunty looked.
“I don’t see them,” she answered.
“Oh, maybe they’re on the clock shelf,” spoke Mr. Longears.
“No, they aren’t there,” said Baby Bunty. “I guess you’ll have to get up
and help me hunt for them, Uncle Wiggily.”
“Oh, dear! I suppose I must,” groaned the bunny. Slowly, and with much
groaning, he got out of his chair. He looked in several places for his
glasses so he could read. But he could not find them.
“Maybe they’re behind the piano,” said Baby Bunty. Uncle Wiggily looked
there, but no glasses were to be found. “Maybe they’re over here under
the couch!” cried Baby Bunty, hopping across the room. Uncle Wiggily
followed her. The glasses were not there. “Maybe they’re out in the
kitchen. Come on, run out there with me and look,” cried Baby Bunty.
Uncle Wiggily did. And then such a chase, all over the hollow stump
bungalow, as Baby Bunty led Uncle Wiggily looking for his glasses! Up
stairs and down stairs he hopped, getting more and more lively all the
while.
Finally, when Uncle Wiggily was trying to jump up on top of the picture
moulding, since Baby Bunty said his glasses might be there, in came
Nurse Jane with the sassafras.
[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]
“Why, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried. “What’s the matter? You must be all
better by the lively way you hop about! What’s the matter?”
“I’m looking for my glasses, and Baby Bunty is helping me,” answered Mr.
Longears.
“Why, how forgetful you are, Wiggily! There are your glasses, on top of
your head, where you so often put them!” said Nurse Jane. “Didn’t you
know they were there?”
“No,” said Mr. Longears, “I didn’t.”
“I did—all the while!” laughed Baby Bunty. “But I just wanted you to hop
around lively and hunt for them. You aren’t stiff now, are you, Mr.
Longears?” she asked, formal like.
“No,” said Uncle Wiggily, twinkling his pink nose, “I am not at all
stiff! Yours was the best medicine, Baby Bunty!”
And if the mince pie doesn’t dream that it’s a trolley car and try to
run a race with the rag doll’s automobile, I’ll tell you next about
Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s picnic.
STORY VII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S PICNIC
“What are you going to do today, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty, as
she saw the rabbit gentleman sitting in the sun on a bench at the side
of his hollow stump bungalow one morning.
“Oh! I’m going to take a little hop through the woods, and perhaps call
on Grandfather Goosey Gander, to see if he is well again, after having
had a cold in his bill,” spoke Mr. Longears.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, who was hidden in
a hollow stump until Uncle Wiggily found her.
“What’s the matter?” asked the rabbit gentleman. “Didn’t I hop around
enough to suit you when I was looking for my glasses and they were on
top of my head all the while!”
“Oh! you hopped enough, and you cured your stiffness,” said Baby Bunty.
“But if you are going to the woods,” said the little tot, “can’t you
take me for a picnic? I haven’t had a picnic in ever so long.”
“Oh, ho! So you want a picnic!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “Well, I guess we
might have one. Tell Nurse Jane to make some carrot sandwiches, and some
turnip flopovers, and a few lettuce ice cream cones, and we’ll go in the
woods and have a picnic.”
“Oh, goodie! Oh, joy!” cried Baby Bunty, and she clapped her paws
together and tried to make her teeny weeny pink nose twinkle as Uncle
Wiggily made his. But, of course, it wasn’t the same.
In a little while Nurse Jane had put up a nice lunch in a birch bark
basket, and Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty started to hop through the
woods.
“Oh! there goes Billie Bushytail, the squirrel boy, and his brother
Johnnie is with him,” suddenly called the baby rabbit after a while.
“May they come to our picnic?”
“Surely,” answered Uncle Wiggily. And after that he and Baby Bunty saw
Lulu, Jimmie and Alice Wibblewobble, the ducks, and Jackie and Peetie
Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys, and Nannie and Billie Wagtail, the goats.
“Bring them all to our picnic!” invited Uncle Wiggily. “We have lunch
enough for all.” So all the animal children went to Baby Bunty’s picnic.
Under a tree, on a carpet of green moss, with a fringe of ferns about
it, and using toadstools for seats, the rabbit gentleman and Baby Bunty
and their friends started the picnic. They had carrot sandwiches,
lettuce cakes, turnip jump-arounds and cabbage cookies.
“This is a jolly picnic!” said everybody.
“I’m glad you like it,” spoke Baby Bunty.
And then, all of a sudden, Jackie Bow Wow gave a soft little bark, and
said to Baby Bunty:
“Look! Uncle Wiggily is going to sleep. We can’t have any fun at this
picnic if he goes to sleep! He ought to play games with us, make
whistles from the willow tree and all things like that.”
“Yes,” said Baby Bunty, “so he ought. Oh, dear! I wish Uncle Wiggily
wouldn’t go to sleep after he eats! But he almost always does, of late,
even at home. I guess he is getting old and stiff.”
“Can’t you make him wake up and be more lively?” asked Lulu
Wibblewobble, as she helped a little ant lady lift some carrot bread
crumbs over a fallen leaf.
“I’ll try,” said Baby Bunty. “A picnic isn’t any fun unless you play
games. And if Uncle Wiggily is going to sleep all the while we can’t
play games with him. Now just watch me!”
Baby Bunty slipped up behind Uncle Wiggily, and, taking a long green
fern leaf, she softly tickled the bunny rabbit on one of his ears.
“A-ker-choo! Goo-zeesium!” suddenly sneezed the bunny.
“Oh! He’s waking up!” quacked Jimmie the duck.
“Hush!” whispered Baby Bunty. Then she tickled the rabbit gentleman on
his other ear.
“Wa-hoo! Zoop! Zing!” gargled Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, he’s getting real excited like!” barked Peetie Bow Wow.
“Wait a minute!” begged Baby Bunty, keeping out of sight.
Then she took a soft piece of grass and she let it flicker gently over
Uncle Wiggily’s pink nose, which never twinkled when he was asleep. All
of a sudden the bunny rabbit gentleman cried:
“Oh zip! Doodle-de-oodle! Gurr! Wafty-zup!” And he sneezed and opened
his eyes and sat up and said: “Is anything the matter?”
“Oh, no!” answered Baby Bunty sweetly. “We just want you to play some
games with us; that’s all.”
“Play games! Of course I’ll play games. I always do at a picnic,”
laughed the rabbit gentleman. “I declare! I must have been asleep!” he
said. “And I dreamed that a ladybug tickled me!”
“Oh, no! Nothing like that! Can you imagine!” laughed Baby Bunty. And
all the other animal children laughed, too. Then Uncle Wiggily played
“Hop Over the Stump” and all such fashion games with them, and they had
a fine time at the picnic. And if the pumpkin pie doesn’t take the
chocolate cake out in the dark and lose it, so there aren’t any cookies
for the goldfish, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s
bouquet.
STORY VIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S BOUQUET
“Will you do me just a little favor, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty
one day, as she came home from school, and saw the dear old rabbit
gentleman sitting in the sun outside his hollow stump bungalow.
“Do you a favor? Why, of course, I will, Baby Bunty,” said Mr. Longears
to the little rabbit girl he had found in the woods. “But I hope it is a
favor that will not make me hop around. I am a bit stiff from having
gone on the picnic with you yesterday. Though I had a good time, after
all,” he said.
“I’m glad you did,” said Baby Bunty. “This favor is a very easy one. You
can sit there and do it. All I want you to do is to tell me what kind of
woodland flowers to pick for a bouquet for the lady mouse teacher in the
hollow stump school.”
“Oh, ho!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “So your lady mouse teacher wants a
bouquet, does she?”
“Yes,” answered Baby Bunty. “She told each one of us to bring wild
flowers to school tomorrow. Sammie and Susie Littletail, and Johnnie and
Billie Bushytail, and Lulu and Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble—they all
know where to look in the woods for the blossoms. But I’m such a little
rabbit girl I don’t know. So if you’ll tell me about the flowers, I’ll
go pick them before supper, and have them ready for tomorrow.”
“Well,” said Uncle Wiggily, slowly like and disengaged, as he tilted
back on his easy chair, “there are red flowers and blue ones, and golden
yellow ones, and some of purple. They will make a nice bouquet when you
pick them. Now run off in the woods, Baby Bunty, and pick some flowers.
Then you’ll have pretty posies for your teacher.”
Uncle Wiggily closed his eyes, gave his pink nose a soft little twinkle
and was dozing off again into a little before-supper sleep. Baby Bunty
shook her little head.
“This will never do,” she thought. “Uncle Wiggily will get old and
stiff, and he’ll think his rheumatism is worse and all things like that
if I let him keep so quiet. I must rouse him up. I haven’t time to make
him chase me, as I want to gather flowers. What shall I do? Oh, I know!”
Softly Baby Bunty hopped off on her tippy tip-paws. Into the woods, not
far from the hollow stump bungalow, she went, and there she saw some red
flowers. She began to pick them, looking back, now and then, through the
trees to where Uncle Wiggily was asleep against the side of his hollow
stump bungalow.
“I must rouse him up and make him more lively!” thought Baby Bunty.
Then, all of a sudden, as she was picking pink flowers she gave a little
scream and cried:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Come quick! Here’s a big snake after me!”
“What’s that! A snake! A snake after Baby Bunty when she’s picking a
flower bouquet for teacher?” cried the rabbit gentleman, suddenly waking
up. “That must never be!”
Quickly he sprang from the bark bench on which he had been sitting. Over
to the edge of the woods he ran, where Baby Bunty was picking a bouquet.
“Where’s the snake?” asked Uncle Wiggily, all ready to kindly ask the
crawly creature to go away and not hurt the little rabbit girl. “Where’s
the snake?”
“There!” cried Baby Bunty, pointing to something squirming on the
ground.
“That? Why that is only an angle worm!” said Uncle Wiggily with a laugh.
“He won’t hurt you, Baby Bunty.”
“Oh! Only an angle worm!” said the little rabbit girl, innocent-like and
dissembling. “Why, I thought it was a snake!”
The angle worm crawled away, laughing to himself. Uncle Wiggily went
back to sleep and Baby Bunty went on picking her bouquet. She glanced
back to where Mr. Longears was having a nap. Then Baby Bunty suddenly
cried again:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! There’s a big beast in an aeroplane airship flying
after me! Come quick and drive him away! Oh! Oh!”
“A big beast in an airship!” exclaimed the rabbit gentleman, suddenly
waking up. “Oh, ho! I’ll soon drive him away!” He ran to Baby Bunty.
“There it is!” she said, pointing her paw to something fluttering in the
air.
“That? Why, that’s only a dragon fly!” said Uncle Wiggily. “He will
never hurt you. All he does is to eat mosquitoes.” And back the bunny
went to sleep, while the dragon fly flew on, laughing to himself.
Pretty soon Baby Bunty, who now had some red, white and blue flowers for
her bouquet, called:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! There’s a big, wild, spotted leopard after me! Come
quick!”
Uncle Wiggily jumped up so quickly from his sleep that he upset the bark
bench.
“Where’s the spotted leopard?” he cried.
“There!” said Baby Bunty, pointing.
“That! Why, that’s only Billy No-Tail, the spotted frog boy!” said Uncle
Wiggily. “He won’t hurt you!”
“Oh!” said Baby Bunty softly, “I thought he was a green and yellow
spotted leopard. Well, as long as I have roused you up so often, Uncle
Wiggily, don’t you think you’d better stay awake now, and help me pick
teacher’s bouquet? It will keep you from getting stiff.”
“I suppose so,” said the rabbit gentleman, sort of sighing resigned
like. And as he helped pick the flowers he heard Baby Bunty laugh softly
every now and then.
“I wonder,” thought Uncle Wiggily, “if she knew, all the while, that it
was only an angle worm, a dragon fly and the frog boy? I wonder?”
And so do I. And if the Thanksgiving Fourth of July pinwheel doesn’t
scratch the baby’s rattle box and make it squeak like a tin horn I’ll
tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s hat.
STORY IX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S HAT
Once upon a time Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy promised Baby Bunty, the little
rabbit girl, who lived with Uncle Wiggily, to take her down to the
fifteen and sixteen cent store to buy a new hat.
But at the last minute Nurse Jane had to go over to help Mrs.
Wibblewobble, the duck lady, make sugar cookies.
“I’ll take Baby Bunty to the five and ten cent store myself,” said Uncle
Wiggily. “I’ll help her get a new hat.”
“Oh, joy!” cried Baby Bunty. “I love to go shopping with you, Uncle
Wiggily. Only we’ll go to the nineteen and twenty cent store. They have
lovely hats there! Why, some have grass-colored ribbons and one has real
cabbage leaf trimmings.”
“That will be fine!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “When you are hungry you can
eat part of your hat, Bunty.”
“Oh, I’ll never do that!” said the little rabbit girl, who had been
found in a hollow stump.
So Nurse Jane went over to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s and Uncle Wiggily started
for the three and four cent store—no, I’m wrong—it was the nineteen and
twenty. Baby Bunty skipped on ahead, running two and fro, jumping over
bushes and snuggling down in clumps of ferns, as though playing hide and
seek. Uncle Wiggily went more slowly and rheumatic like.
“Why don’t you jump, as I do?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Oh, my joints are too stiff,” said the bunny rabbit. “I’m getting old,
Baby Bunty.”
“Well, then I’ll have to make you lively!” cried the little rabbit girl.
“Oh, please don’t do any more of your tricks!” begged Uncle Wiggily with
a laugh. “Just let me hobble along in peace and quietness on my
rheumatism crutch. And, Baby Bunty, there is one favor I want to beg of
you.”
“What is it?” asked the little rabbit girl as she waved her paw to a
spotted lady bug, friendly like.
“Don’t ask me to go in that eleven and twelve cent store with you to get
your new hat,” spoke the bunny. “I’ll go as far as the door with you and
give you the money. But I’ll wait outside. I never can bear to hop up
and down the aisles, from the soap department over to the lace veil
counter doing shopping. I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Very well,” said Baby Bunty. “But I think it would do your stiffness
good to come in. However, we shall see.”
So Uncle Wiggily hopped on with the lively little rabbit girl, and soon
they were at the—nineteen and twenty cent store, I think. You can look
back and make sure.
“Now, I’ll wait here for you,” said the rabbit gentleman, sitting down
in a sunny place outside. “Take the money and get a new hat Bunty.”
“What’s the matter with your pa? Isn’t he feeling well?” asked a little
mousie girl clerk, as she came up to wait on Baby Bunty, and saw the
rabbit gentleman staying outside.
“That isn’t my pa—it’s Uncle Wiggily,” said the little shopper. “He’s
getting stiff, but I’ll soon make him feel better.”
Then she began to shop around and look at hats, and pretty soon, having
tried on one with carrot trimmings, she went to the door and called:
“Uncle Wiggily! Please come in and see if this looks well on me!”
“Oh, my!” groaned Uncle Wiggily. “Must I come in? Well, only this once.”
Slowly he hopped in, looked at Bunty’s hat, and said:
[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]
“Oh, yes. That’s fine. Have it wrapped up and we’ll get home.”
“Oh, but there’s a hat with real radishes on, up on the next floor!”
said the little rabbit girl, as she laid aside the carrot hat. “Let’s go
look at that!”
Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily had to hop after, groaning at
his aching joints. Baby Bunty tried on the radish hat.
“That’s fine!” said Uncle Wiggily. “Buy it!”
“Oh, but there’s one on the next floor with a cabbage leaf crown. I want
you to see how I look in that!” said Baby Bunty. Up the stairs she
hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her. She tried on the cabbage hat.
“Buy it! Oh, buy it!” begged the bunny.
“Oh, but on the next floor is a hat with cucumber salad all around the
edges!” said Bunty. “I might look better in that!” Up the stairs she
hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her.
Well, sir, Baby Bunty tried on forty-’leven hats before she found one
she liked, and by that time Uncle Wiggily was so lively, from hopping up
and down stairs, that he felt real reckless like and sporty, and he
bought two ice cream cones. He said he felt so good he had to have a
treat.
“I thought you’d like to come shopping!” said Baby Bunty. And Uncle
Wiggily only twinkled his pink nose. But if the molasses jug doesn’t
take the candy stick to beat the parlor rug when it’s trying to race
with the kitchen oilcloth, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and
Bunty’s shoes.
STORY X
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SHOES
“Uncle Wiggily, I am sorry to trouble you,” said Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy,
the muskrat lady housekeeper to the bunny rabbit gentleman one day, “but
do you think you could go to the store for me? Or are you too stiff? Is
your rheumatism too bad?”
Uncle Wiggily looked all around the hollow stump bungalow before
answering. Then he asked:
“Is Baby Bunty here?”
“Not just now,” replied Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, trying not to smile. “Why do
you ask?”
“Because if I say I’m too stiff and old to go to the store for you
she’ll say I’m not too stiff to play tag with her. And I certainly am!”
said Uncle Wiggily, positive like and semi-emphatic. “I don’t want to
move about quickly at all today. I just want to go slow and easy like.”
“Then you may,” said Nurse Jane. “I only want you to go to the store for
me and get Baby Bunty’s shoes!”
“What’s that?” cried Mr. Longears, and he gave such a jump that his pink
nose stopped twinkling. “I thought you said you wanted me to go to the
store for _you_, Nurse Jane.”
“So I do. I’d have to go after Bunty’s shoes if you didn’t, and, really,
I haven’t time. But you don’t have to take Baby Bunty, so you may hop as
slowly as you like. I took her down and she tried on the shoes
yesterday. I left them to be stretched. All you have to do is to bring
them home.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I like Baby Bunty, and all
that, but when I want to hop slowly she wants to play tag and the like
of such nonsense. I’ll go to the store alone.”
Away he started, leaning on his red, white and blue striped rheumatism
crutch that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of a cornstalk. And Uncle
Wiggily had not hopped very far before he heard a voice calling:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Wait a minute!”
“My goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut hash!” thought the bunny
rabbit. “I hope that isn’t the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon after
me!”
He was just going to hide behind a tree when he saw that it was Baby
Bunty who was hopping along through the woods.
“Wait a minute, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried.
“Well, something is surely going to happen now,” thought the bunny
rabbit.
It did not take long for Baby Bunty to catch up to Mr. Longears, for she
was a lively little rabbit girl.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she gasped. “I know where you are going! You are
going after my new shoes. I heard Nurse Jane tell you! I was playing tag
down behind the rain water barrel. I didn’t mean to listen, but I
couldn’t help hearing. Please take me with you.”
Well, what could Uncle Wiggily do? He didn’t want to hurt Baby Bunty’s
feelings, and he certainly was going after her shoes. So he said:
“Now, look here, Baby Bunty! No tricks, you know! No making me hop up
and down stairs to look at you try on new hats, you know!”
“Of course not!” laughed the little rabbit girl. “Besides, we are going
after shoes today, and I don’t have to try them on. Nurse Jane helped me
buy them yesterday. I’ll be good.”
“And please be quiet—don’t make me do any extra hopping today!” begged
the bunny rabbit gentleman. “My joints are too stiff.”
Baby Bunty had a funny little twinkle in her eyes as she hopped along
with Mr. Longears. Soon they were at the shoe store and a nice rat
gentleman handed Mr. Longears a neat package.
“Well, this isn’t so bad,” thought the bunny rabbit. “There’s to be no
trying on, and, in consequence, there can be no hopping up and down
stairs.”
With the shoe package under one leg, and holding Bunty’s paw in his
other one, Uncle Wiggily started back for the hollow stump bungalow.
“Can’t we go any faster than this?” asked Baby Bunty. “I want to hurry
home and wear my new shoes.”
“Oh, this is fast enough for my rheumatic joints,” spoke the rabbit
gentleman, contented like.
Baby Bunty started to run backward.
“Why—why—where are you going?” asked Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, I think the man forgot to put any laces in my new shoes!” cried
Baby Bunty. “I must run back and get them. You wait for me, Uncle
Wiggily.”
“No, I can’t wait,” said Mr. Longears. “I must go with you, to see that
you don’t get lost!”
Back ran Baby Bunty and back ran Uncle Wiggily. And when they reached
the shoe store the rat gentleman said:
“Why, the lacers are in the shoes!”
“Oh, how silly of me!” said Baby Bunty. “So they are! Now we must hop
along fast, Uncle Wiggily, or it will be dark before we get home!” So,
whether he liked it or not, Uncle Wiggily had to hop along very fast,
and so did Baby Bunty. But it’s a good thing they did, for, when they
were almost at the hollow stump bungalow, out popped the bad Pipsisewah,
trying to get the new shoes.
And, only that Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty were hopping so fast, the
Pip might have caught them.
But he didn’t, I am glad to say, and when Baby Bunty reached home and
tried on her new shoes they fitted perfectly, and Uncle Wiggily wasn’t
hardly stiff at all. And if the lawn mower doesn’t try to cut a slice
off the cake of soap for the goldfish to take a bath, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s hair ribbon.
STORY XI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S RIBBON
Once upon a time Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, who was hidden in a
hollow stump until she was found, said to Uncle Wiggily:
“Will you come with me for a walk in the woods today?”
“Why, yes, Baby Bunty, I think I will,” answered Mr. Longears. “But I am
a bit stiff, and my rheumatism hurts a little, so please don’t ask me to
chase you or do anything exciting like that.”
“I won’t,” promised Baby Bunty, but, as she tied her red sky-blue pink
hair ribbon around her neck, the little rabbit girl smiled in a queer
way.
“No,” she said to herself, as Uncle Wiggily took his red, white and blue
striped rheumatism crutch down off the fence post, “I won’t make him
chase me, but I’ll keep him from going to sleep. He’s a dear old rabbit
gentleman, but he’s getting old—or he thinks he is. I must keep him
lively!”
So Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty hopped off through the woods. Nurse Jane
Fuzzy Wuzzy stood in the doorway of the hollow stump bungalow and
watched them.
“My! Baby Bunty has on her best hair ribbon today,” said the muskrat
lady housekeeper. “I hope nothing happens to it.”
As Baby Bunty hopped along, now running ahead of Uncle Wiggily and now
lagging behind to pick a pretty flower, all of a sudden her green yellow
brown hair ribbon caught on a bush and the bow was untied.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Please tie my hair ribbon!” cried Baby Bunty with a
laugh.
Uncle Wiggily leaned on his red white and blue striped rheumatism
crutch, and, with his paws, tied Baby Bunty’s ribbon.
“There!” he said, as he patted down the big bow, which looked like the
wings of a butterfly, “I hope your hair ribbon doesn’t come untied
again.”
“I hope so, too,” said Baby Bunty.
On and on she hopped through the woods with Uncle Wiggily. They were
looking for a nice place for the little rabbit girl to play. All of a
sudden, as she was peeping down in a robin’s nest, to see how big the
little birds were, her hair ribbon caught on a branch of a tree, and
loose the bow came again.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Will you please tie my hair ribbon?” cried Baby
Bunty with a laugh.
“Dear me!” said Uncle Wiggily. “That’s a very loose ribbon, Baby Bunty!
I ought to have brought some glue to make the bow stay tied fast.”
But he fixed it for the little rabbit girl, and on they hopped again.
Pretty soon they came to a beautiful place in the woods. On the ground
was a soft velvet carpet of green grass. Around it was a fringe of
ferns. Overhead was a big umbrella of trees, which kept off the hot sun.
“Here is a good place for you to play, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“You may gather flowers, hop on the grass or even turn somersaults.”
“And what are you going to do, Uncle Wiggily?” asked the little rabbit
girl.
“Oh, I shall go to sleep,” said the old gentleman rabbit.
Baby Bunty wrinkled up her nose in a funny little way, but she didn’t
say anything—just then. Uncle Wiggily found a soft stump for a seat,
with a soft mossy covered tree for a back rest, and there he sat down.
Pretty soon his eyes closed, his pink nose stopped twinkling, and he was
asleep.
“Oh, dear!” said Baby Bunty. “This isn’t any fun—to have him go to
sleep! Ah, I know what I’ll do!”
She played around a little, turning peppersaults and somersaults, and,
all at once, she gave her hair ribbon a little pull.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried, running up to the rabbit gentleman. “My
ribbon is untied again! Please fix it for me!”
Uncle Wiggily opened his eyes and grunted.
“It seems to me your hair ribbon is always coming untied,” he said. But
he made a nice fancy bow for Baby Bunty, and then he went to sleep
again, while she played about. But, pretty soon back she hopped.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried.
“What!” exclaimed the old rabbit gentleman. “Is your hair ribbon loose
again? Am I never to get any sleep?”
“It isn’t my hair ribbon this time,” said Baby Bunty. “But I saw a big
fox sneaking along in the bushes behind you, and I thought he might bite
some souse off your ears, so I woke you up!”
“I’m glad you did!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “And you awakened me just in
time, too. Now we can run away before the fox gets us!”
And run away they did, and the old fox didn’t get them.
“But I would have had a nice lot of souse off Uncle Wiggily’s ears, if
Baby Bunty hadn’t awakened him,” said the fox, hungry like.
And, if the green grass doesn’t turn pink when the red rose leaves fall
on it, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s ball.
STORY XII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S BALL
“Will you come for another nice walk in the woods, today, Uncle
Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, as she danced around
the hollow stump bungalow where she lived with Mr. Longears.
“Hum! Another nice walk in the woods, eh?” asked Uncle Wiggily,
suspicious like and premeditated. “Are you going to wear a big hair
ribbon bow, that comes untied all the while?” he asked.
“Oh, no!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I’ll only wear a tiny bow today. I won’t
keep waking you up all the time to tie it for me.”
That’s what Baby Bunty did in the story before this, if you will kindly
remember. But, after all, it was a good thing she did. On account of the
fox, you know.
“Well, come along!” said Uncle Wiggily, after he had asked his muskrat
lady housekeeper, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, what they were going to have
for dinner.
“May I bring my rubber ball?” asked Baby Bunty, as she came out of the
hollow stump bungalow with a very small pumpkin-colored hair ribbon
around her ears.
“Oh, yes, bring your ball along,” said Uncle Wiggily kindly. “But please
don’t sprinkle any water from it on me while I’m asleep.”
“I won’t,” promised Baby Bunty. And then, as Uncle Wiggily hopped along
on his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and as Baby Bunty
ran along beside him, the little rabbit girl said: “Oh, dear! If he’s
going to sleep every time we come to the woods, I’ll have no fun at all.
But maybe I’ll find a way to keep him awake,” she said to herself, as
she bounced her rubber ball.
On they went through the green woods, Baby Bunty running to and fro as
fast as an automobile, and Uncle Wiggily coming along more like a
trolley car, substantial-like, though unpoetical. The little rabbit girl
picked pretty flowers now and then, while Mr. Longears chewed a bit of
birch bark, or nibbled at sassafras and wintergreen, hoping it would
cure his rheumatism.
“Now here is a nice place for you to play, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle
Wiggily when they reached a green glade in the forest. “And I’ll just
sit down on this soft, mossy log and think a bit.”
“Yes, I know what that means!” whispered Baby Bunty to herself. “It
means he’ll go to sleep and won’t play tag or anything with me, and I
can’t have any fun! Oh, dear!”
She bounced her ball on a bare, sandy place, while Uncle Wiggily picked
out the softest, green, mossy log he could find. He laid aside his
rheumatism crutch, took off his tall silk hat, and, folding his paws
over his red vest, closed his eyes. His pink nose stopped twinkling.
“He’s asleep!” said Baby Bunty.
All of a sudden her bouncing rubber ball gave a big jump, and before the
little rabbit girl could get her paws on it the rubber ball bounded
right over on Uncle Wiggily’s bare head.
“Oh, I say! A-ker-choo! What’s that?” he cried, waking up all at once,
and not partly, as he did sometimes.
“It is only my rubber ball!” said Bunty sweetly. “I’m so sorry it struck
you! But, now that you are awake, don’t you want to play tag with me?”
“Not now,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I will later. I haven’t had my nap out
yet. Please be careful of your ball, Baby Bunty.”
“I will,” said the little rabbit girl with a smile.
Uncle Wiggily closed his eyes again, and he was just slumbering nicely,
when, just as Baby Bunty gave her rubber ball an extra hard bounce, away
it flew again, and this time it landed right on the rabbit gentleman’s
pink nose.
“My goodness me, sakes alive and some rice pudding without any raisins
in!” he cried. “What’s that?”
“Only my rubber ball,” said Bunty, sweetly. “I’m sorry it awakened you.
Don’t you want to——”
“I want to finish my nap,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Please go away far off
and bounce your ball, Bunty.”
Once more he went to sleep. Baby Bunty, with a funny look on her face,
hopped off in the woods. Then, all of a sudden, through the trees came
flying her rubber ball. Straight as an arrow it flew, and it struck
Uncle Wiggily right on his red vest.
“Oh, my goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut lollypops!” he cried.
“Is that your ball again, Bunty?”
“Yes,” said the little rabbit girl, “it is. I was trying to throw it so
Bully No-Tail, the frog boy, could toss it back to me. But I guess I
didn’t throw straight enough. I’m sorry my ball hit you, Uncle Wiggily,
but, now that you are awake, don’t you want to——”
“Oh, yes, I’ll play tag or hide-and-go seek or even turn somersaults!”
laughed the bunny.
“Between you and your ball, Baby Bunty, I’ll never get any sleep!”
“I thought you wouldn’t,” said Baby Bunty, smiling in a funny way. Then
she and Mr. Longears had lots of fun. And, if the sunshine doesn’t
tickle the raindrops and make them fall on the umbrella plant, I’ll tell
you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s carriage.
STORY XIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S CARRIAGE
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily, Uncle Wiggily,” called a jolly voice one day outside
the hollow stump bungalow, where Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman,
lived with Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper.
“Ha! I wonder if that’s Sammie or Susie Littletail, or Johnnie or Billie
Bushytail?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he turned a leaf of the cabbage
newspaper he was reading.
“That’s Baby Bunty,” said Nurse Jane. “I guess she wants you to take her
for a ride in her little red carriage. I see she has it out in front.”
“Oh, I can’t play with Baby Bunty today!” said Uncle Wiggily quickly. “I
must go over and call on Grandfather Goosey Gander.”
“Baby Bunty will be so disappointed,” spoke Nurse Jane.
“It’s too bad,” agreed Mr. Longears. “But I must have a little rest and
quiet. Baby Bunty is so lively!”
“Well, she keeps you that way, too,” said the muskrat lady. “And, on the
whole, perhaps it is a good thing for you. I believe you have become
younger these last two weeks.”
“Hum!” said Uncle Wiggily, noncommital like and unconvinced. “Anyhow I
can’t play with Baby Bunty this morning.”
And when he told this to the little rabbit girl, whom he had found in a
hollow stump, she said:
“Oh, dear! Then I’ll have to go off in the woods by myself and pick wild
flowers. But will you play with me some other time, Uncle Wiggily, and
chase me and have a game of tag and all that?”
“Yes,” promised Uncle Wiggily, as he put on his tall silk hat, and
looked to see if his pink nose was twinkling properly, “I’ll play with
you later.”
So he went one way through the woods, and Baby Bunty went another,
pushing her carriage, in which she often used to be wheeled when she was
smaller than she was now.
“Don’t get lost!” said Uncle Wiggily, as he waved his paw to the little
rabbit girl.
“I’ll try not to,” she said.
Uncle Wiggily had a nice visit with his old friend, Grandfather Goosey
Gander. They talked about the time when they were young and spry.
“But I’m getting old and stiff now,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“You need some one to keep you lively,” quacked Grandpa Goosey.
“Oh, I have some one!” laughed Mr. Longears. “You should see Baby Bunty!
Say, now I think of it, come on back to my hollow stump bungalow and
stay to lunch. I’ll show you Baby Bunty—if she’s home. But she’s nearly
always out in the woods, hopping around. She started off with her
carriage just before I came here. Perhaps she went to get some one to
give her a ride, as I had no time. Come and see Baby Bunty.”
“I will!” promised Grandfather Goosey Gander.
Together he and Uncle Wiggily went through the woods. But they had not
traveled very far before, all at once, Grandpa Goosey cried:
“Look there, Uncle Wiggily! What’s that rolling down the hill in front
of us? It looks like a baby carriage!”
“It is!” cried Mr. Longears, as he peered through his spectacles. “It’s
Baby Bunty’s carriage, and it’s running away down hill. Oh, she’ll be
hurt! I must hop after that carriage and stop it!”
“You never can catch that carriage!” quacked Grandpa Goosey. “It’s
rolling down hill too fast! You are so old and stiff, like myself——”
“Am I old and stiff?” cried Uncle Wiggily. “You just watch me hop!”
He jammed his tall silk hat down on his head, took a tight hold of his
red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and down the hill he
leaped.
Faster and faster rolled Baby Bunty’s carriage! Faster and faster hopped
Uncle Wiggily, his coat tails streaming out behind like two girls’s hair
ribbons.
“I’ll save you, Bunty! I’ll save you!” cried the rabbit gentleman.
“Don’t jump out of the carriage. I’ll get you! I can hop fast, even if I
am stiff!”
With one big, extra long hop he reached the carriage, and caught hold of
it in his paws just as it was going to tip over. He looked inside,
thinking to see Baby Bunty half frightened out of her eye teeth, but,
instead, there was only a big bouquet of wild flowers.
“Well! Well! What does this mean?” asked Uncle Wiggily, all out of
breath, but still not stiff any more. “What is all this?”
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Baby Bunty, from the top of the hill, where
she stood with Grandpa Goosey, “did you think I was in that runaway
carriage?”
“I certainly did!” answered Mr. Longears.
“Why, I wasn’t at all!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I just used it to hold the
wild flowers I picked. And when I wheeled it to the top of the hill it
slipped away from me, and ran down. My! But you did run fast, Uncle
Wiggily!”
“I should say he did!” quacked Granda Goosey. “Faster than I ever saw
him hop before.”
“But it’s good for his rheumatism,” spoke Baby Bunty.
Mr. Longears never said a word as he wheeled the carriage up hill. But
if the ice cream doesn’t melt when the gas stove asks it to dance the
fox trot, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s party.
STORY XIV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S PARTY
“My goodness me, sakes alive, Nurse Jane!” cried Uncle Wiggily Longears
one morning, as he came downstairs in his hollow stump bungalow. “Why
are you making so many cakes, pies and jam tarts? You have enough for a
picnic!”
“These are for Baby Bunty!” explained the muskrat lady housekeeper.
“What! Is she going to eat all those?” asked Uncle Wiggily,
surprised-like, not to say disconcerted.
“Oh, I’m going to let her have a play party in the yard,” explained Miss
Fuzzy Wuzzy. “Baby Bunty has been a good little girl lately, and when
she asked me if she couldn’t have a party, with real cakes and cookies,
I said yes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all. Not at all!” quickly cried Uncle Wiggily. “If Baby
Bunty has a party she won’t want me to chase her, or play tag, or go off
to the woods to keep young and from getting stiff. If she has a party I
can have a good sleep and rest.”
[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]
“But you’ll come to her party a little while, won’t you?” asked Nurse
Jane. “Just look in to be polite, you know.”
“Oh, yes,” answered the rabbit gentleman. “I’ll just drop in for a cup
of tea.”
Baby Bunty was delighted to have a party. She danced around the hollow
stump bungalow and put on her best green yellow pink hair ribbon, making
Uncle Wiggily tie it for her.
“You’re a dear, good, old Uncle Wiggily,” said Baby Bunty. “You’ll come
to my party, won’t you?”
“Yes, but I just want to sit on a soft stump and watch you and the other
animal children play,” spoke Mr. Longears. “I’m getting too old and
stiff for parties!”
“We’ll see about that!” spoke Baby Bunty, with a funny little laugh.
Nurse Jane made the jam tarts, she frosted the cakes and she put fancy
trimmings on the cookies and pies.
“Now everything is ready for your party!” said the muskrat lady to Baby
Bunty. “Have you invited all your friends?”
“Yes, and Uncle Wiggily, too,” said the little rabbit girl, who was once
found asleep in a hollow stump.
The little party tables were set out under the grape vine, in the shade.
Pretty soon along came Sammie and Susie Littletail, the rabbits; Johnnie
and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels; Lulu, Alice and Jimmie
Wibblewobble, the ducks, and many others.
“Now, everybody sit down!” invited Baby Bunty, when they had gathered
around the tables, filled with good things. “Welcome to my party! Uncle
Wiggily, will you sing a little song?”
Uncle Wiggily, who wore his newest red vest, looked surprised. But still
he sang a song about once there was a carrot with a long and slender
tail, and when it went out walking it swam in the water pail.
“Now, everybody begin to eat!” invited Baby Bunty. “Oh, isn’t it fun to
have a party! Uncle Wiggily, please pass Jackie Bow Wow a puppy cake!”
Uncle Wiggily, who had picked out a nice shady corner, and was just
closing his eyes, opened them again, and passed the little doggie boy a
cake.
“I’ll just sit here quietly,” thought Uncle Wiggily to himself. “Pretty
soon they’ll all be so busy eating that they won’t notice me. Then I can
go to sleep and forget about my rheumatism.”
The animal children were laughing and talking, and also eating the good
things. Uncle Wiggily’s eyes were closed. He was dreaming he and Grandpa
Goosey Gander were playing Scotch checkers, when, all of a sudden, Baby
Bunty said:
“Uncle Wiggily, please pass Nannie Wagtail some paste pudding!”
“Eh! What’s that? Oh, I guess I had my eyes shut!” said the bunny
gentleman. But he passed the paste pudding to the little goat girl, and
he was just going to sleep again, when Bunty said:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Do try some of these turnip jam tarts! They’re
wonderful!”
“Oh, yes. Jam tarts!” stammered the rabbit gentleman, awakening
suddenly. However, he managed to eat a tart, and he was almost asleep
again when Bunty suddenly said:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily, will you please pass the rose leaf ice cream to
Arabella Chick!”
“Why, certainly,” said Uncle Wiggily, and he wondered if he would ever
get a nice, quiet nap, such as he had counted on. After he had passed
Lulu Wibblewobble some corn meal puddin’, the rabbit gentleman dozed off
again, but he was suddenly awakened when Baby Bunty cried:
“Oh, here they are! Here they come! Oh, look, everybody!”
“My goodness me, sakes alive and some fire engines!” cried Mr. Longears,
waking up so suddenly that he spilled some carrot marmalade on his red
vest. “What’s the matter, Baby Bunty? Is it the Pipsisewah and the
Skuddlemagoon come to spoil your party?”
“Why, no,” answered the little rabbit girl, sweetly. “It’s just the
grasshopper and the cricket musicians, who are coming to play for the
dancing. May I have a one-step with you, Uncle Wiggily?”
“Oh, Baby Bunty!” laughed Mr. Longears, as the grasshoppers tuned their
hind-leg fiddles. “No one could go to sleep at your party!”
“Nor grow old or stiff, either,” said Baby Bunty. Then they all had a
fine time. And if the jumping Jack doesn’t fall out of the salt cellar
and scare the coal man when he brings in the ice, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s skipping rope.
STORY XV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S ROPE
“Uncle Wiggily, would you do me a little favor?” asked Baby Bunty one
morning, as she came out on the porch of the hollow stump bungalow,
where Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman, was reading the paper.
“Well, Baby Bunty!” said Uncle Wiggily, to the little rabbit girl, whom
he had found in a hollow stump tree, “I’d do almost anything for you,
but please don’t ask me to come to any more parties, or chase you or
play tag, or take you out in the woods with your rubber ball. I simply
can’t do that, for I am too old and stiff!”
“Oh, this isn’t anything like that. All I want is for you to come with
me while I buy a skipping rope. I want to learn to jump. All the other
animal girls jump salt and pepper and vinegar and mustard, and I, too,
want to learn.”
“Well,” said Uncle Wiggily, slowly, “that sounds like an easy favor.
I’ll come, Baby Bunty.” “She surely can’t make me jump rope,” said Mr.
Longears to himself. “I’m safe this time. I’ll get a chance to sleep
today.”
So, putting on his tall silk hat, and taking his red, white and blue
striped rheumatism crutch with him, Uncle Wiggily hopped with Baby Bunty
through the woods, to the ten and eleven cent store where wild grape
vine jumping, or skipping, ropes were sold.
“Give Baby Bunty a nice rope,” said Uncle Wiggily to the little mousie
girl clerk behind the counter, and the little rabbit girl soon had the
finest one you can imagine, with puff balls on the ends so her paws
wouldn’t slip off.
“Now I must learn to jump,” said Baby Bunty, as she and Uncle Wiggily
started back through the woods.
Baby Bunty had watched Lulu and Alice Wibblewobble, the ducks, and some
of the other animal girls skipping their wild grape vine ropes, so the
little rabbit girl knew something about it. She swung the rope over her
head and jumped “salt,” which is very slow jumping indeed.
“And while you are learning to skip rope, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle
Wiggily, “I’ll just sit down on this soft green mossy log and go to
sleep. You won’t mind, will you?”
“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty.
She found a nice, smooth place in the woods, where the green grass made
a velvet carpet, and there Baby Bunty began to learn to jump. Uncle
Wiggily’s pink nose stopped twinkling, and he fell asleep.
“Oh, dear!” said Baby Bunty, after a bit, “I never can learn all by
myself. I’m going to tie one end of my grape vine rope to a tree, and
ask Uncle Wiggily to turn the other end for me. Then I can learn to jump
and, after a while, I’ll be able to turn for myself.”
Gently she tickled Uncle Wiggily under the chin with a soft piece of
grass.
“Eh! What’s the matter? Mosquitoes?” cried the bunny gentleman, as he
sat up suddenly and opened his eyes.
“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty. “I’m sorry to wake you up, Uncle Wiggily,
but will you please turn rope for me? Just turn it salt, which is very
slowly, and perhaps you can do that and sleep at the same time.”
“Perhaps!” said Uncle Wiggily, but rather doubtful like. “We’ll try.”
So he took one end of the grape vine rope, while the other end was tied
to a tree, and Uncle Wiggily turned for Baby Bunty. He turned slowly, as
one must for “salt,” and Uncle Wiggily’s eyes were just closing, and he
was dozing off, when Baby Bunty said:
“Oh, could you please turn a little faster, Uncle Wiggily? I’m beginning
to learn how. Please turn as fast as pepper.”
“All right,” said Mr. Longears, good-natured like and accommodating. So
he turned faster—like pepper you know—and even at that he was soon
falling asleep again, when Bunty cried:
“Oh, I’m doing fine, Uncle Wiggily! I can even jump as fast as vinegar
now, if you’ll turn more quickly for me.”
“Well, I’ll turn faster,” said Mr. Longears. “But I can plainly see that
I’ll get no sleep today.”
So he turned “vinegar,” and Bunty jumped it easily, for she was fast
learning how. Even then Uncle Wiggily nodded, and was almost going to
sleep, when Bunty cried:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Please turn mustard! Turn mustard fashion as fast as
you can! Wake up and turn mustard!”
“What’s this! Can you so soon jump as fast as mustard?” cried the bunny,
sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Oh, no, I can’t jump mustard yet!” cried Bunty. “But I had to say
something to wake you up quickly. Look, here comes the bad Pipsisewah!
We must run! Run as fast as you can! Run mustard fashion!”
“I will!” said Uncle Wiggily, and he did, and so did Bunty, and by
running mustard, which is very fast, they soon got safely away from the
bad Pipsisewah.
“Hum!” said the Pip, as he was left behind in the woods. “If it hadn’t
been for Baby Bunty waking up Uncle Wiggily, I surely would have had his
souse!”
So it’s a good thing the little rabbit girl learned how to skip her
grape vine rope, isn’t it? And the next day she could jump mustard. And
if the automobile doesn’t go swimming in with the gold fish and make the
poll parrot sleep in the cat’s cradle, I’ll tell you next about Uncle
Wiggily and Bunty’s scooter.
STORY XVI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SCOOTER
One day, when Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, came
home to his hollow stump bungalow, having been over to call on Grandpa
Goosey Gander, Mr. Longears saw Baby Bunty sitting on the front steps
looking very sad and sorrowful.
“What’s the matter?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “Did you lose your grape vine
skipping rope, Baby Bunty?”
“Oh, no,” answered the little rabbit girl. “My rope is all right, and I
can jump salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard and even rice pudding. But I
want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily! I want a scooter very much!”
“A scooter!” cried the bunny rabbit gentleman, in surprise. “What is
that? Something new to jump rope with?”
“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty with a smile. “A scooter is a little
two-wheeler roller skate wagon. It has wheels on it, and a place for you
to stand with your feet and a place to hold on by your paws. You get on
the scooter, give yourself a little push, and away you scoot as fast as
anything! I want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily. All the other animal boys and
girls have ’em!”
“Then you shall have one, too!” cried Mr. Longears. “Come on, Baby
Bunty, we’ll go down to the fifteen and sixteen cent store and get you a
scooter!”
“Oh, joy!” said Baby Bunty, clapping her paws, and trying to make her
pink nose twinkle like Uncle Wiggily’s. But she didn’t do it very well,
being so small.
A little later the rabbit gentleman and the little girl, who had been
found in a hollow stump, were on their way through the woods to the
fifteen and sixteen cent barn where they sold scooters.
“Give me the best one you have for Baby Bunty,” ordered Uncle Wiggily,
and it was given him.
“Oh, may I ride home on it?” asked Baby Bunty, when they were on the
smooth woodland path once more.
“Why, yes, if you know how,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, all you have to do with a scooter,” spoke Baby Bunty, “is to get on
with your hind paws, hold fast to the handle with your front paws, give
yourself a push and away you scoot!”
“Let me see you try it,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Maybe you’d better go first,” said Baby Bunty.
“Oh, no, indeed!” laughed her uncle. “I’m too old and stiff, and my
rheumatism makes me feel too funny to ride on a scooter. Go ahead, Baby
Bunty.”
Baby Bunty got on the foot-part of the scooter. She held tightly with
her front paws, and gave herself a push with one hind paw. Along went
the scooter, but alas! Likewise a-lack-a-day! Baby Bunty must have
steered the wrong way, for bunk! into a tree she ran.
“Oh, did you hurt yourself?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he ran to help her.
“Oh, no!” laughed the little rabbit girl. “It’s fun when I get so I know
how to do it!”
Off she started once more, but this time she ran into a stump and bunked
her nose.
“Are you hurt?” asked Uncle Wiggily.
“No—no,” said Bunty bravely. “But I must be more careful.”
The next time she steered very straight, but she sent the scooter right
into a mud puddle and the mud splashed on Uncle Wiggily’s tall silk hat.
But, as the hat was black, the mud spots do not show very plainly.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty. “I don’t believe I’ll ever learn how to
ride my scooter. I should have bought roller skates. Don’t you want to
ride and show me how, Uncle Wiggily?”
“Dear me!” said the rabbit gentleman, unpretentious like. “Do you think,
at my age, I could?”
“Of course!” said Baby Bunty.
“I am lame and stiff and have the rheumatism,” said Uncle Wiggily, “but
I’ll try anything once. Let me see that scooter, Bunty!”
Uncle Wiggily got on with his hind paws. He took hold with his front
paws and he gave himself a push. And, just as it would happen, the
scooter was then at the top of a hill. Down this hill went the funny
little two-wheeled wagon, with Uncle Wiggily on it.
“Stop! Oh, stop!” begged Mr. Longears, as he saw what was before him. “I
didn’t know this was down hill! Stop!”
But it was too late to stop! Down he went, faster and faster. And the
scooter traveled so quickly that it rolled straight along and didn’t go
from side to side, or bunk into anything.
“Oh, how wonderfully well Uncle Wiggily rides!” said Baby Bunty at the
top of the hill, as she began to hop down.
And just then, at the bottom of the hill, the scooter, with Uncle
Wiggily on it, struck a stump. Up in the air went the rabbit gentleman,
and down he came with a thump. But he landed on a bed of soft moss and
wasn’t hurt a bit. The scooter came down with a bump beside him. Uncle
Wiggily looked around, dazed like. Baby Bunty came hopping down the
hill.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried. “That was wonderful! But I didn’t know
that was the way to get off a scooter.”
“It isn’t,” said Mr. Longears. “And don’t you try that way, either. But
I enjoyed my ride. I’m not as stiff as I was, but I may be more so
tomorrow. Now I’ll give you some lessons, Baby Bunty.”
The little rabbit girl soon learned to ride her scooter, but not down
hill, and she had lots of fun. And if the clock doesn’t strike the
dinner bell and make the gas stove think it’s time for supper before
breakfast, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the flowers.
STORY XVII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FLOWERS
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping through
the woods one day, wondering what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy would have for
his dinner in the hollow stump bungalow, when, suddenly, Mr. Longears
heard some one call:
“Uncle Wiggily! Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Oh, wait for me!”
Quickly the rabbit gentleman turned around, and lowered his long ears,
so they would not stick up over the tops of the bushes.
“I am not sure, as yet, whether I want to wait for whoever this is, or
not,” said Uncle Wiggily, cautious like and reserved. “If it’s the
Pipsisewah, or the Skuddlemagoon, I certainly don’t want them to see me,
or the see the souse on my ears.”
Again the voice cried:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Where are you. I saw you a moment ago,
but now I can’t see you! Please wait for mee!”
“Why, that’s Baby Bunty!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, with a joyful twinkle
of his pink nose. “My dear little baby rabbit, who was found in a stump!
Of course I’ll wait for her.”
Then Uncle Wiggily let his ears flop up, so they could be seen over the
bushes, and the little rabbit girl cried:
“Oh, now I can see you! Wait a minute and I’ll hop to where you are.”
Uncle Wiggily sat on a stump and waited. Pretty soon Baby Bunty came
hopping along the woodland path.
“My goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut butter cakes!” cried the
rabbit gentleman. “What is that yellow stuff on your paws, Baby Bunty?”
“Those are yellow flowers,” said Baby Bunty. “I picked both my paws full
of them, and I’m going to give them to Nurse Jane.”
“Yellow flowers, eh?” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “Oh, so they are!” he went
on, as he brushed some cobwebs off his glasses. “It is very kind of you
to gather them for Nurse Jane.”
“I’m glad you think so,” spoke Baby Bunty. “Have a smell, Uncle
Wiggily!” and she held her bouquet of yellow blossoms under the pink,
twinkling nose of Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, Baby Bunty, don’t!” begged Uncle Wiggily, drawing back. “Oh, dear
me! A-ker-choo. Ker-snitzio! Bushwah! Bur-r-r-r!” and he sneezed
eleven-sixteen times.
“Oh! Are you catching cold, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty.
“No,” answered the old rabbit gentleman. “It’s just the flowers. They
have some yellow dust on them, and the petals are so ticklish that, when
they touched my nose, they made me sneeze. I like your flowers, Baby
Bunty, and so will Nurse Jane, but please don’t hold them so close to my
nose again.”
“I won’t,” promised the little rabbit girl. “Now we’ll have a nice game
of tag! Come on, chase me!” and away she hopped through the woods.
“Hi, there! Come back!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Don’t run so fast, Baby
Bunty! You may get lost or the Pipsisewah may catch you. Come back!”
“No, you chase me! Come on, tag me!” cried Baby Bunty.
“Oh, dear, I suppose I’ll have to,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, with a sort of
sighing groan. “But I’m so old and stiff-like——”
But still he felt he must hop on to see that no harm came to Baby Bunty.
And that little rabbit girl certainly led the old gentleman rabbit a
long chase.
On through the woods hopped Baby Bunty, carrying her yellow flowers, and
after her hopped Uncle Wiggily. All of a sudden Mr. Longears, looking
ahead, saw the bad old Pipsisewah jump out from behind a stump, and make
a grab for Baby Bunty!
“Oh, dear me, and some fire engine rice pudding!” cried Uncle Wiggily.
“I should have run faster after Baby Bunty to save her from the
Pipsisewah. Yet, even if I were there, what could I do? And what can she
do? Oh, this is too bad!”
Then, as he watched, he suddenly saw brave Baby Bunty thrust her bouquet
of yellow flowers into the very face of the Pipsisewah. Right under his
nose the little rabbit girl held the fuzzy blossoms, and then the Pip
quickly turned a backward somersault and a forward peppersault and he
went:
“Ker-choo! A-ker-choo-choo! Kersnooziozoozium!”
And he sneezed so hard that he sneezed himself away up over the trees,
and far enough off so he couldn’t hurt Uncle Wiggily or Baby Bunty.
“Well, that’s the time the fuzzy, sneezy flowers came in useful!” said
Uncle Wiggily.
Then he hopped up to Baby Bunty and found her smiling.
“Now do you like my flowers?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Uncle Wiggily, “I do. And I’ll carry one of the bouquets
for you.” But he was careful to hold it away from his pink, twinkling
nose, as he didn’t want to sneeze as hard as the Pipsisewah had done.
So, everything came out all right, and if the fried egg doesn’t go to
sleep on the sofa cushion and make the rocking chair think it’s a yellow
rose, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the white birch.
STORY XVIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE WHITE BIRCH
“Where is Baby Bunty this morning?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the
bunny rabbit gentleman, as he came downstairs to a rather late breakfast
in his hollow stump bungalow.
“Do you want her to make you chase her, and play tag, or gather more
yellow flowers to give the Pipsisewah a sneeze?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy
Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she poured some carrot gravy
over Uncle Wiggily’s lettuce pancakes.
“Oh, indeed, I don’t want Baby Bunty for anything like that,” spoke Mr.
Longears. “I was just thinking, if she were off playing somewhere, I
could rest and not have to hop about like a jumping Jack walking a tight
rope.”
“Oh, Baby Bunty is good for you!” laughed Nurse Jane. “Still, you
needn’t worry now. She is out of the way. She has gone over to play with
Beckie Stubtail, the little girl bear, and she is going to stay to
supper. Baby Bunty doesn’t want to come home until after dark, and she
told me to ask you to go after her.”
“I will,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Hurray! Much as I love Baby Bunty, I like
to be quiet, sometimes. Now I can eat my breakfast and have a little
sleep.”
So Uncle Wiggily did. In the afternoon he took a hop through the woods
and had a little adventure with a frog lady. She was Mrs. No-Tail, the
mother of Bully and Bawly, and Mrs. No-Tail fell into a pile of dry
dust. Being fond of water, she didn’t like being dry, but she might
never have gotten out of the dust if Uncle Wiggily had not helped her.
Then, after supper, Mr. Longears said to Nurse Jane:
“Now I will go over to Beckie Stubtail’s house and get Baby Bunty. She
won’t be afraid to come home through the dark woods if I am with her.”
“No,” spoke Nurse Jane, “I hardly believe she will. But be very careful
coming through the dark woods, Uncle Wiggily. The Pipsisewah may be
hiding there waiting for you.”
“I’ll be careful!” promised the bunny rabbit. “But is there any favor I
could do for you when I go to bring home Baby Bunty?”
“Yes,” replied Nurse Jane, “there is. If you have time, after you stop
at the Stubtail house for our little rabbit girl, I wish you’d step over
to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s, the duck lady. She has a bag of sugar for me.
It’s three pounds she is giving me back for some she borrowed of me to
make cornmeal cakes.”
“I’ll stop at Mrs. Wibblewobble’s and get the sugar, and also bring Baby
Bunty home,” said Uncle Wiggily.
Then he hopped off through the woods. It was getting dark, but Uncle
Wiggily didn’t care about that. Baby Bunty might, but he never would.
Soon the rabbit gentleman was at the home of Beckie Stubtail, the little
bear girl. As he drew near he heard merry shouts and laughter.
“The children are having a good time,” thought Uncle Wiggily, and so
they were. When they knew he was there, Baby Bunty wanted him to come in
and play some games. But Mr. Longears said:
“No, Baby Bunty! It is getting late, and I have to stop at Mrs.
Wibblewobble’s to get the sugar for Nurse Jane. You may come over again
some other time.”
So, Baby Bunty said good night to Beckie Stubtail, and then the little
rabbit girl and Uncle Wiggily started back through the dark woods.
“Aren’t you afraid?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Not a bit!” laughed Mr. Longears. He noticed that Bunty hopped close to
his side, and did not run on ahead and want him to chase her, as she
often did.
It did not take Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty long to get to the duck
house, and there Mrs. Wibblewobble had the sugar wrapped up in a paper
bag for them. Then, once more, Mr. Longears and Bunty started through
the dark woods.
“Oh, what’s that?” suddenly asked the little rabbit girl, stopping and
pointing ahead.
“Nothing but an old stump,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Come on!” They went
along a little farther, and Baby Bunty all of a sudden cried:
“Oh, look! There’s a giant!”
“Nonsense!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “That’s only a big rock that looks
like a giant. Hop along!”
They hopped along a little farther, and, all at once, Baby Bunty gave a
backward jump, bunked into Uncle Wiggily so hard that she burst the
paper bag, letting the sugar spill out, and she cried:
“Oh, what’s that big, tall, white thing waving its arms at us on the
path? Oh, Uncle Wiggily! What is it? What is it?”
Baby Bunty snuggled close up against the rabbit gentleman. Uncle Wiggily
looked once, he looked twice and he looked three times at the white
thing. Truly it did seem to be waving its arms in the dark. Then Uncle
Wiggily laughed.
“Why, that is only a white birch-bark tree, Baby Bunty,” he said. “You
mustn’t be afraid of a white birch tree. And I’m glad we came to this
one. With some of the loose bark I can make a new bag for the sugar. And
I’ll be glad to do it, for the sugar is running down my leg and it
tickles like sand at the seashore.”
So Uncle Wiggily made a bag from the white birch bark, put the sugar in
it, and he and Baby Bunty were soon safe in the hollow stump bungalow.
And if the cough drop doesn’t fall off toadstool and tickle rice pudding
under the chin when they’re in the moving pictures, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and the little pond.
STORY XIX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LITTLE POND
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping along
through Woodland near the Orange Ice Mountains, not far from Asbury
Grove, where he had built his hollow stump bungalow. Mr. Longears was
looking first on one side of the path and then on the other with his
pink, twinkling nose.
I mean Uncle Wiggily had his pink nose with him; I don’t mean he was
looking with it. Gracious, no! He looked with his eyes.
“Hello, Uncle Wiggily! Are you looking for an adventure?” asked Johnnie
Bushytail, the squirrel boy, as he scampered up a hickory tree to see if
any nuts were growing yet. But it was too early.
“No, I’m not exactly looking for an adventure,” spoke the bunny
gentleman. “I want to find Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl who used
to live in a hollow stump.”
“Do you want her to chase you and play tag?” asked Johnnie.
“Indeed, I do not!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Baby Bunty is too lively for
me! She says she makes me chase her so I won’t get old and stiff. But
it’s fun to be sort of restful like once in a while. Now I’m looking for
Baby Bunty because Nurse Jane wants her to come and have her paws and
face washed for supper. Have you seen her?”
“Do you mean Nurse Jane or Baby Bunty?” asked the squirrel boy, sort of
joking like and comical.
“Baby Bunty, of course!” answered Uncle Wiggily. “I know where Nurse
Jane is. She’s baking a strawberry long-cake in my hollow stump
bungalow. But if you haven’t seen Baby Bunty I must hop along and look
in other places.”
So Uncle Wiggily hopped along, and pretty soon he came to the shore of a
large pond. On one bank of the pond were growing a number of tall
plants, with thick, green leaves.
“Ha! Those are nice plants,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Perhaps they may have
seen Baby Bunty pass this way.”
So, understanding the language of flowers, which is about the same as
that which is talked by the leaves and vines, Uncle Wiggily asked the
green plants if they had seen the little rabbit girl.
“No,” answered one large plant, “we haven’t seen Baby Bunty. We have
been so busy trying to shake off a lot of bad, red, biting bugs, on our
stalks and leaves, that we haven’t had a chance to look for any one. We
wish we could drive the bugs away.”
“I can do that,” kindly offered Uncle Wiggily. “I will drive away the
red bugs that are biting your thick, green, glossy leaves. I’ll knock
them off with my red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch.”
“Please do!” begged the plants growing on the edge of the big pond.
So Uncle Wiggily drove away the biting bugs by tapping on the green,
thick-leaved plants with his crutch, and the plants thanked the rabbit
gentleman very much.
“If we can ever do you or any of your friends a favor we shall be glad
to,” they said.
Uncle Wiggily hardly thought a plant could ever do you a favor, but just
you wait and see. On and on through the woods hopped the rabbit
gentleman, until pretty soon he came to a cute little shady dingly dell,
and there was Baby Bunty lying on the grass fast asleep. In one paw was
her wooden doll—Sarah Jane Sassafras Ricepudding.
“Oh, Bunty! Wake up!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Nurse Jane wants you to come
home! It’s nearly supper time!”
Baby Bunty awakened with a start, rubbed her eyes, and then, holding her
doll, Matilda Arabella Flapdoodle, in one paw, the little rabbit girl
took hold of Uncle Wiggily’s coat tail and back to the hollow stump
bungalow they started.
They had not gone very far, and they were hopping toward the big pond of
water, when, all of a sudden, out from behind a stump popped the bad old
Skuddlemagoon.
“Oh, ho! Now I have you!” cried the Skuddlemagoon.
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty ran as fast as they could. So did the
Skuddlemagoon. Pretty soon Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty came to the big
pond.
“Oh, if only this pond were little now,” sighed Uncle Wiggily, “we could
jump across it.”
“What good would that do?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Why, once on the other side, we would be safe from the Skuddlemagoon,”
answered Uncle Wiggily. “The policeman dog lives on the other side of
this pond. But, as it is now, it is too big for us to jump across, and
if we have to run all the way around it the bad chap may catch us.”
And then, just as true as I’m telling you, all of a sudden the big pond
began to shrink up. It shut its banks close together and became so
little that Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty could easily jump across
without getting wet.
All the way across the pond they jumped, and, when they were safe on the
other side, the little pond suddenly stretched into a big one again and
it was so large that the Skuddlemagoon couldn’t jump over.
“Oh, we’re safe, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Bunty. “We’re safe! But what made
the big pond get little and then grow big again?”
“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Longears.
Then some voices spoke: “We made the big pond get little for you,” said
the green stalks and leaves on the bank. “We shrank and also stretched
the pond for you. We are rubber plants, you know, and rubber can stretch
and shrink.”
That’s just how it happened. Weren’t those stretchy rubber plants good
to Baby Bunty and Mr. Longears? And if the bluebell flower doesn’t ring
so late in the morning that the alarm clock gets late for school, and
can’t have any sawdust candy for recess, I’ll tell you next about Uncle
Wiggily and the funny stump.
STORY XX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FUNNY STUMP
“Good-by, Uncle Wiggily! Good-by!” called Baby Bunty to Mr. Longears,
the rabbit gentleman, one morning, as he stood on the front porch of his
hollow stump bungalow.
“What’s that? ‘Good-by?’ Why, you aren’t going to leave me; are you?”
cried Uncle Wiggily. “Are you going to leave me after I found you in the
woods, and took care of you and—and all that!”
“Oh, but you say I make you chase me and play tag, and that I won’t let
you sit around and get stiff and old and all the like of that! I’d
better go away,” and really it looked as though Baby Bunty were going
away, for she had a little bundle in one paw.
“Oh, don’t go away!” begged Uncle Wiggily. “I don’t mind chasing you,
and I was only fooling about you making me get old and stiff.”
“And I was only fooling about going away!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I’m only
going to take my painting lesson from Mother Nature. She knows how to
color the flowers red, blue and golden, and she is giving me painting
lessons. My paints are in this bundle. When I finish learning how to
make a blue sky turn pink I’ll come back to you.”
“Please do!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I shall miss you.”
“Then, in an hour or so, if you walk through the woods you may meet me
coming home from my painting lesson,” spoke Bunty.
“I will!” promised Uncle Wiggily. Then Baby Bunty hopped on with her box
of colors, and Mr. Longears went to see Grandfather Goosey Gander.
“What do you s’pose Baby Bunty can paint?” asked Grandpa Goosey, when
Uncle Wiggily had told about the little rabbit girl learning how to make
a green leaf look red.
“I don’t know what she can paint, but she is a smart little thing,” said
Mr. Longears. “It would be hard to find her equal if you hopped or
waddled for one whole day and part of another.”
“I believe you!” quacked Grandpa Goosey Gander.
Pretty soon it was time for Uncle Wiggily to start hopping along the
woodland path to meet Baby Bunty, for soon she would be leaving Mother
Nature’s studio, where the little rabbit girl took her lessons.
“I must get Baby Bunty to give my red, white and blue striped barber
pole rheumatism crutch a new coat of paint,” thought Uncle Wiggily, as
he hopped along. “And I wonder just where I shall meet her!”
All of a sudden he heard a joyful sound.
“Hi, there, Uncle Wiggily! Here I am! Whoop-de-doodle-woodle!” and along
hopped Baby Bunty. There was a smudge of red paint on one ear, a dab of
blue paint on her left paw and a dribble of yellow paint on her hair
ribbon.
“I’ve been having my painting lessons,” she said to Uncle Wiggily.
“I see you have!” he agreed, with a laugh. “Well, we’ll hop home now,
and see what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy has for supper.”
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty were hopping along, when, all of a sudden,
out from under a pile of dried grass jumped the bad old Magoosielum. The
Magoosielum is worse than either the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon.
“Ah, ah! I’m in luck today!” cried the Magoosielum. “A rabbit gentleman
and a rabbit girl! Let me see, whose souse shall I eat first? I guess
I’ll take yours, Uncle Wiggily.”
With that the Magoosielum let go of Baby Bunty, well knowing she would
not run away without Uncle Wiggily. Then the Magoosielum began looking
at the rabbit gentleman’s ears to see where the best place would be to
begin eating souse. For that is what souse is—pickled ears of nice
rabbits.
“Well, I’ll take some left ear souse first,” said the Magoosielum, and
he was just starting to do this, and Uncle Wiggily didn’t know what to
do. The rabbit gentleman saw Baby Bunty open her paint box.
“That will not help any,” sadly thought Uncle Wiggily. “The only thing
that will drive away a Magoosielum is pineapple cheese, and Baby Bunty
has none of that.”
Then the bad animal stood in front of Uncle Wiggily picking out a good
place to begin nibbling the souse, so Mr. Longears couldn’t see what
Bunty was doing with the paint box. All he could see was that she was
near a funny, old, gnarled and fire-blackened stump.
But, all of a sudden, Baby Bunty cried:
“Look out now, you bad old Magoosielum. Look out, or my friend, the
Snippy-Snappy, will get you!”
And, as true as I’m telling you, there stood what seemed to be a little,
short, squatty animal, with a big red mouth, a green nose, one yellow
eye and one pink eye, one brown cheek and one purple one, and his teeth.
Oh, his teeth were all sorts of colors, some even being Skilligimink
shade!
“Oh, wow! Oh, this is terrible!” howled the bad Magoosielum. “Don’t let
that Snippy-Snappy get me! I won’t hurt you, Uncle Wiggily!” And away
ran the bad chap, not hurting Mr. Longears nor Bunty at all.
“But won’t the Snippy-Snappy get my souse?” asked Mr. Longears, when he
saw that the unpleasant creature was gone. “Aren’t we in danger from the
Snippy-Snappy?”
“Of course not!” laughed Bunty. “I just made the Snippy-Snappy on the
outside of the funny old stump, with my colored paints. I painted the
Snippy-Snappy, Uncle Wiggily, to scare the Magoosielum.”
“And right well you scared him,” spoke the bunny. “You surely are
learning to paint, Bunty.” And if the safety pin doesn’t slide off the
cushion and try to sprinkle soapsuds in the eye of the needle, I’ll tell
you next about Uncle Wiggily and the queer log.
STORY XXI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE QUEER LOG
“Where’s Uncle Wiggily? Where’s Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty, the
little rabbit girl, of Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, one morning. “Where is
he?”
“Why, Uncle Wiggily has gone to the store for me,” answered the muskrat
lady housekeeper of the hollow stump bungalow. “He has gone to get me
some molasses!”
“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, who had been
found in a hollow stump.
“Why, whatever is the matter?” asked Nurse Jane, who had a dab of flour
on her nose. And whenever the muskrat lady had a dab of flour on her
nose you could be sure that she was making a pie. “Don’t you like
molasses cake, Bunty?” Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy asked.
“Oh, yes! Have you any?” Baby Bunty wanted to know.
“I’ll make one as soon as Uncle Wiggily comes back with the jug of
molasses,” went on Nurse Jane. “But why did you say ‘Oh, dear!’ in such
a doleful voice?”
“Because I wished Uncle Wiggily were here to chase me, or play tag, or
something! I’m so afraid he’ll get old and stiff.”
“Well, why don’t you hop off in the woods and meet him?” asked Nurse
Jane of the lively little rabbit girl. Baby Bunty could hardly ever keep
still. “If you go to meet him you’ll see him hopping along with the
molasses jug,” went on the muskrat lady, “and then he’ll chase you, or
play tag or let you help him carry the sweet stuff I’m going to put in a
cake.”
“I’ll do that,” said Baby Bunty, and away she hopped with her rubber
doll named Beatrice Ethelmore Lemonsqueezer.
As she was hopping through the woods to meet Uncle Wiggily, all of a
sudden Baby Bunty heard, near a little spring of water, a sad voice
crying:
“Oh, I’m so wet! Oh, if some one would only help me out of the water!”
“Some one is drowning!” said Baby Bunty. “I wonder if I could save
them?”
On a bed of soft, green moss, she put her wax doll, Sarah Ann Belinda
Washbasin, and hurried to the side of the little spring. There Baby
Bunty saw a poor honey bee splashing in the water.
“I’ll save you!” kindly said the little rabbit girl. With a long stick
she fished the half-drowned bee out of the pool, and placed him on a
leaf in the sun where his wings could dry.
“Thank you for saving me,” buzzed the bee, when he had shaken off some
of the water. “I shall be glad to do you a favor, if I may. Do you want
me to make you some honey?”
“Oh, thank you, no; not now,” answered Baby Bunty. “Uncle Wiggily is
bringing home the molasses jug. But some other time we may want your
honey.”
“Any time you do I’ll give you some,” buzzed the bee. Then he flew away
to look for more honey flowers. Baby Bunty was glad she had saved the
bee, which a big dragon fly had knocked into the spring of water.
On and on through the woods hopped Baby Bunty, and pretty soon she saw
Uncle Wiggily coming toward her, with the molasses jug on his paw.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” cried the little rabbit girl. “I’m so glad I met
you. Now I’ll help you carry the molasses jug and when we get home
you’ll chase me, and play tag; won’t you?”
“Oh, yes, I guess so,” answered Mr. Longears.
“It will keep you from getting old and stiff, you know,” said Baby Bunty
sweetly, as she took hold of one side of the molasses jug.
She and Uncle Wiggily hopped on, but, all of a sudden, out from behind a
bush jumped the bad old fox.
“Oh, ho!” cried the fox. “This time I have you!”
He made a grab for Uncle Wiggily and Bunty, but they were too quick for
him.
“Run, Bunty! Run!” cried Mr. Longears. And he ran and hopped, and so did
Bunty, and they got away from the fox. But, alas, they dropped the
molasses jug and they didn’t dare stop to pick it up, or go back after
it.
“Oh, dear! What shall I do?” sighed Uncle Wiggily. “I have lost the
molasses and jug, and Nurse Jane will be so disappointed! Oh, dear!” and
he sat down on a queer log, that had a hole in each end, and warts like
a toad all over it.
“It is too bad,” said Baby Bunty.
“What is too bad?” asked a gentle, little voice, and out of one end of
the queer log flew the very same honey bee that Baby Bunty had saved
from the spring. “What is too bad?” asked the bee.
“The fox chased us and I lost the molasses jug,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, ho! Don’t let that worry you!” buzzed the bee. “Inside this queer
log I and many other bees have a lot of flower honey. It is as sweet as
molasses, and I’ll give you all you want. Here, make a box of some white
birch bark from this tree, and take Nurse Jane a lot of our honey.”
“Oh, that will be just fine!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Nurse Jane can make
honey cakes!” And the muskrat lady did. So you see losing the molasses
jug didn’t so much matter after all. And if the man in the moon doesn’t
want to come and live in our house and make the lady bug move into the
garage, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the lightning bug.
STORY XXII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LIGHTNING BUG
“Tag! You’re it!” cried Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, one morning,
as she ran around on the porch of the hollow stump bungalow and tapped
Uncle Wiggily on his tall silk hat with her paw.
“Oh, dear! Now I suppose I’ve got to chase you!” exclaimed the rabbit
gentleman, as he started his pink nose to twinkling. “And I’m so stiff I
can hardly run this morning!”
But Mr. Longears chased the little rabbit girl, and he really felt
better after a lively race around the hollow stump bungalow, so that
some of his stiffness was gone as he set forth, a little later, to hop
through the woods with Bunty.
“What sort of an adventure do you think we’ll have today, Uncle
Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty, as she hopped along beside the rabbit
gentleman.
“Oh, you never can tell,” he answered. “I suppose the skillery-scalery
alligator, or the bad old Pipsisewah will come along and——”
Hardly had Uncle Wiggily said these few words than he and Baby Bunty
heard a sad little voice saying:
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear, me! Here I’m caught in a sassafras tree!”
“Who’s that?” asked Baby Bunty.
“I don’t know who it is, but I know who it isn’t!” exclaimed Uncle
Wiggily.
“Then who isn’t it?” asked Baby Bunty.
“It isn’t the Pipsisewah,” spoke the rabbit gentleman. “He never uses
poetry, though he did eat some of your sugary frosted chocolate cake the
other day. But I must see who this is. They may need help.”
“Indeed I do!” went on the sad little voice.
“Who are you?” asked Uncle Wiggily.
“A lightning bug,” was the answer. “Some persons call us fireflies, and
that’s a good name, too. But I am caught fast by my legs in the sticky
gum on this sassafras tree, and I can’t get loose.”
“I’ll help you,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“So will I,” added Baby Bunty.
She and Uncle Wiggily looked, and they saw a little brown and drab bug
on the branch of a sassafras tree not far away.
“You don’t look like a lightning bug,” said Baby Bunty. “You don’t shine
at all.”
“I only shine in the dark,” said the bug.
“Yes, that is true; many times I have seen you, or your friends,”
admitted Uncle Wiggily. Then he gently set the firefly free from the
sticky gum, and the little bug flew away. But before it left it said:
“If ever I can help you, or Baby Bunty, I shall be most glad to do so,
Uncle Wiggily.”
“Oh, pray, don’t mention it,” spoke the rabbit gentleman, diffident-like
and shy.
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty traveled on and on over the fields and
through the woods, looking for an adventure, but they could not seem to
find any, unless you call helping the lightning bug an adventure.
And pretty soon it began to get dark, for Uncle Wiggily had stayed out
later than he meant to.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty. “Hadn’t we better get back to your hollow
stump, Uncle Wiggily?”
“Yes, I think so,” said the rabbit gentleman. But when he tried to find
the path that led to home and Nurse Jane he could not. It was too dark.
“Oh, we are lost in the woods and the bad Pipsisewah will get us,” cried
Baby Bunty.
“Hush!” said Uncle Wiggily. “It will be all right. I’ll light a fire
here on this big stone. The Pipsisewah, or no other wild animal, will
come where there is a fire!”
[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]
“Then please light one,” begged Baby Bunty.
But when Uncle Wiggily tried to make the fire he found he had no
matches. And then, all of a sudden, there was heard a crackling and
rustling in the bushes.
“Oh, the Pipsisewah is coming!” cried Baby Bunty.
“He’d soon go away if I could make these sticks burn!” said Uncle
Wiggily, trying again to find a match, but he could not.
The Pipsisewah came nearer and nearer, howling for rabbit-ear souse. And
then, all of a sudden, a little bright and shining light flew through
the air, and came down on the flat stone where Uncle Wiggily had placed
the sticks to make a fire. And, in another moment ten thousand other
little points of light came flying along. They dropped down among the
dry sticks and branches at the spot where Uncle Wiggily had tried to
make the blaze until it looked as if the whole place were burning.
“Oh, look!” cried Baby Bunty. “We have a bonfire!”
And the Pipsisewah, seeing the bright light, gave a grumble and growl
and quickly sneaked away.
“Just my luck!” he said. “I thought I’d have a bit of souse, but I don’t
even dare go near the fire!”
And Uncle Wiggily, looking among the sticks, said:
“This isn’t burning fire at all; it’s just a lot of lightning bugs
crawling on the pieces of wood.”
“Yes, that’s what we are,” said a voice. “I am the lightning bug you
saved from the sticky gum, and these are my cousins and my sisters and
my aunts.”
“And you saved us from the Pipsisewah!” said Uncle Wiggily, and so the
lightning bugs had. Then the firefly bugs flew on ahead, lighting the
path to the hollow stump bungalow for the bunnies, and all was well.
And if the loaf of bread doesn’t hide in the flower pot when the rice
pudding wants it to help catch the raisins for a pie, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and the roses.
STORY XXIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE ROSES
“Dear me!” exclaimed Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy one day, as she walked down
to the end of her garden near the hollow stump bungalow. “This is too
bad!”
“What’s the matter now?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears. “Have Jackie and
Peetie Bow Wow, those two little puppy dog boys, been digging up your
seeds?”
“No,” answered the muskrat lady housekeeper to the bunny rabbit
gentleman, “not quite that. But something has been eating my lovely
roses. And I wanted to keep them nice to send a bouquet to Grandpa
Goosey Gander.”
“Ha! Some one has been eating your roses have they, Nurse Jane?”
exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, animosity-like and determined. “Well, do you
think Johnnie or Billie Bushytail, the squirrels, or Jimmie
Wibblewobble, the duck, or perhaps Curly and Floppy Twistytail, the
piggie boys, could have taken the flowers?”
“No, indeed!” said Nurse Jane. “They wouldn’t do that. Some one seems to
have been chewing the lovely rose petals, that are like satin velvet,
and also, many of the green leaves are eaten.”
“Then I just know who did it!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I know who has been
eating your roses!”
“Who?” asked Nurse Jane, all excited like.
“The Skuddlemagoon, the Skeezicks or the Pipsisewah! Either one of those
bad chaps!” said the bunny.
“I think so, too,” said Baby Bunty, who hopped along just then, rolling
her hoop. “Can you catch them, Uncle Wiggily?”
“I’m going to try,” said the brave bunny gentleman.
“Oh, please don’t!” begged Nurse Jane. “I don’t want you to run into
danger, Uncle Wiggily, and catching the Skeezicks, the Pipsisewah or the
Skuddlemagoon would be very dangerous. The roses aren’t worth it.”
“Oh, yes they are,” said Uncle Wiggily. “But I am not going to run into
danger. The way I’ll catch whoever is eating your rose petals will be
this. I’ll hide out here in the grass, and when I see the Skuddlemagoon,
the Pipsisewah or the Skeezicks sneaking up to bite a flower, I’ll run
out, sprinkle some salt on their tails and that will make them behave.”
“Well, perhaps if you do it that way it will be all right,” said Nurse
Jane. “But do take care of yourself, Uncle Wiggily; won’t you?”
“I will,” promised the bunny rabbit gentleman. So he got the big salt
cellar out of the kitchen, and then he hid himself in the tall grass
near the rose bushes in Nurse Jane’s garden.
“I’m going to hide with you, too, and watch,” said Baby Bunty. “I can
tell you when the Pipsisewah is coming, Uncle Wiggily.”
“Yes, you may hide with me,” said Mr. Longears. “You are a lively little
rabbit girl, and you will not fall asleep yourself, nor let me.”
“Indeed, I won’t,” promised Baby Bunty, and she kept tickling Uncle
Wiggily with a piece of ribbon grass on his pink, twinkling nose every
time he looked as though he were going to doze off and fall asleep.
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty had not been hiding and watching very long
before, all of a sudden, the little rabbit girl whispered:
“Here comes the Skeezicks!”
“Eh? The Skeezicks? So he does!” spoke the rabbit gentleman softly, and,
looking over the top of the grass he saw the bad chap sneaking along.
The Skeezicks picked off a rose and held it in his paw.
“Now I’ll slip out and sprinkle salt on his tail!” said Uncle Wiggily.
And he was just going to do this when Baby Bunty said:
“Oh, wait! Here comes the Skuddlemagoon!”
And, surely enough, into the garden came also the bad Skuddlemagoon.
“Two of ’em! This is going to be our busy day!” said Uncle Wiggily
softly, as he looked to see if he had enough salt. “Well, I’ll tame ’em
both! They must learn to let Nurse Jane’s roses alone,” said he.
Uncle Wiggily was just going to hop out and sprinkle salt on the tails
of the Skeezicks and the Skuddlemagoon, when Baby Bunty caught him by
the coat tails—she caught Uncle Wiggily, I mean—and pulled him back down
in the tall grass.
“Look out! Here comes the Pipsisewah!” cried the lively little rabbit
girl, in a shrill whisper.
Uncle Wiggily looked. Surely enough there was the old Pip, and just as
the Skuddlemagoon and the Skeezicks had done, the Pipsisewah picked a
rose.
“Now we know who has been eating Nurse Jane’s flowers,” said Uncle
Wiggily to Baby Bunty. “Well, here I go to sprinkle salt on all three of
their tails, and then we’ll see what happens.”
“Better wait,” said the little rabbit girl, and, as she said that the
Pipsisewah exclaimed:
“Now, gentlemen, I believe we are all ready. Take a smell of your roses
and then we’ll rush up to the bungalow, grab Uncle Wiggily and take away
all his souse.”
“Right you are!” growled the Skuddlemagoon and the Skeezicks. All three
of the bad chaps lifted the roses to their noses to smell the sweet
posies, when, all of a sudden, a big, black pinching beetle flew out of
the rose the Skeezicks had and pinched him on the nose. And a big black
beetle flew out of the rose the Skuddlemagoon held and pinched him on
the nose. And then a big black beetle flew out of the rose the
Pipsisewah held and pinched him on the nose.
“Wow! Wow! Wow!” cried the bad animals. “This is too much!”
And away they ran, not hurting Uncle Wiggily at all, and they never took
any more of Nurse Jane’s flowers. And because the beetles had been so
brave they were given all the rose leaf honey they wanted.
Now if the umbrella doesn’t run out in the rain, and get its rubbers all
wet so it can’t slide down the ironing board, I’ll tell you next about
Uncle Wiggily and the red tulip.
STORY XXIV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE RED TULIP
Down in Nurse Jane’s garden, near the hollow stump bungalow, grew many
flowers besides the roses, out of which flew the black beetles to nip
the noses of the Skeezicks, the Skuddlemagoon and the Pipsisewah, as I
have told you.
Among the flowers were big tulips, white, golden and pink, and, best of
all, Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, loved a tulip that
was red.
“It makes me think of so many things that are beautiful,” said Uncle
Wiggily. “I could look at the red tulip all day long.”
“Well, please don’t look at it all day just now, if you please!” begged
Nurse Jane with a laugh. “Far be it from me, Uncle Wiggily, to hurt your
feelings,” said she, “or to make you stop loving my flowers. But it is
getting late afternoon now, and I have company coming for tea. There
isn’t a bit of sugar in the bungalow, and unless you go to the seven and
eight cent store and get me some—well, my little tea party will not be
at all nice.”
“Oh, excuse me! I’ll go get the sugar at once,” said Uncle Wiggily.
Then, putting on his tall, silk hat, and taking his red, white and blue
striped rheumatism crutch off the garden gate, Uncle Wiggily started to
hop to the nine and ten cent store for some sugar.
“But I must take just one more look at the red tulip,” said Uncle
Wiggily. “I want to remember how beautiful it was as I hop along to the
store.”
So he went into the garden again, and stood looking at the red flower,
the petals of which were spread wide open to let the sun warm the heart
of the blossom.
Then Uncle Wiggily noticed that some weeds were growing up too near the
red tulip, so he dug them out with the end of his red crutch.
“Weeds are not good for flowers,” said Uncle Wiggily.
Just then Baby Bunty called to him from the back kitchen window:
“Uncle Wiggily, if you don’t stop fussing over that tulip, and hurry on
to the store, it will be closed—I mean the store will be closed. It’s
getting late.”
“Yes, and the tulip will be closed also,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Tulip
flowers close when evening comes and open in the morning. But I’ll
hurry, Baby Bunty.”
Giving one last look at his favorite flower, Uncle Wiggily hopped on to
the ten and eleven cent store. The afternoon was rapidly turning into
evening, and the bunny rabbit gentleman hurried as fast as he could.
But, just as Baby Bunty had said, he had spent too much time over the
red tulip. The store was closed and Uncle Wiggily could get no sugar.
“This is too bad!” he exclaimed. “What am I going to do for sugar for
Nurse Jane’s tea! She’ll be so disappointed. I’ll go see if I can find
another store that isn’t closed, as my red tulip must be closed now.”
So Uncle Wiggily hopped on through the woods, but no other store could
he find. And it was getting later and later, and he knew it must be
almost time for Nurse Jane’s company to arrive and have tea.
“Well, there is no help for it,” said the rabbit gentleman, sort of
ashamed like and perfunctory. “I’ll just have to tell Nurse Jane I
reached the store too late. She’ll have to use molasses to sweeten the
tea. And yet that will not be at all nice.”
Still there was nothing else to be done. If it had been spring he could
have gotten some sweet maple sugar sap from a tree, but the sap had
stopped running.
“I guess molasses is what she’ll have to use,” said the bunny, as he
hopped around the back way into his hollow stump bungalow. “I’ll take
one last look at my red tulip,” he said. He wanted to put off, as long
as possible, telling Nurse Jane the bad news.
Uncle Wiggily reached the garden. His red tulip had closed up its
petals. Just as he had expected, until the blossom looked more like a
bud than a full flower. And, as Uncle Wiggily looked at the red tulip he
heard, coming from it, a voice which said:
“Let me out! Oh, please, let me out!”
“Who are you and where are you?” asked the rabbit gentleman in surprise.
“I am a buzzing bee and I am inside the red tulip,” was the answer. “I
was getting a bit of yellow pollen on my legs, to help make wax, when
the tulip flower suddenly closed its petals and I’m caught.”
“Yes, that is just what happened,” said the red tulip. “I’m sorry, but
it couldn’t be helped. I’d open my petals and let you out, my dear bee,
but I can not, I can not open my petals until morning.”
“Ah, but I can open them and I will, and I’ll let the bee out,” said
Uncle Wiggily. “But I’ll do so very gently, my dear red tulip. I will
not hurt you.”
Very carefully Uncle Wiggily opened the red tulip and out flew the
buzzing bee.
“Thank you, Uncle Wiggily,” it said. And then it went on: “But why do
you look so sad and worried?”
“Because I forget Nurse Jane’s sugar, or, rather, I got to the store too
late,” was the answer.
“Oh, I can easily fix that,” said the bee. “Since you were so kind as to
let me out of the red tulip, I’ll call a lot of my friends and we’ll
bring sweet honey for Nurse Jane’s tea.” And the bees did, and so
everything was all right, and Nurse Jane said the honey was better than
sugar.
And, if the clothes pin doesn’t try to climb out of the thread box when
it’s hiding away from the cake of soap as they play tag, you shall next
hear about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s slippers.
STORY XXV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SLIPPERS
“Well, I think she is all ready now, except her slippers,” said Nurse
Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy.
“Who is ready?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit
gentleman, as he hopped up the steps of his hollow stump bungalow, in
time to hear his muskrat lady housekeeper ring the dinner bell.
“Baby Bunty,” answered Nurse Jane. “She is all ready except her
slippers, and I thought you’d get them for her.”
“Well, I’ll do almost anything for Baby Bunty except chase her, or play
tag, on the days when I’m too lame and stiff,” said Uncle Wiggily, as he
sat down on the softest side of the porch, for his rheumatism hurt him a
little just then. “But what’s all this about her slippers, and what is
Baby Bunty getting ready for?” he asked.
“Oh, a little party that Alice Wibblewobble, the duck girl, is going to
give,” spoke Nurse Jane. “I have made Baby Bunty a new dress for it, and
she has a new sky-blue-pink hair ribbon, so she is all ready except her
slippers. Will you go to the five and six cent store and get them?”
“Of course I will!” said Uncle Wiggily with a jolly laugh that made his
nose twinkle like a piece of cherry pie going to a moving picture show.
“I’ll hop right along,” said the bunny rabbit gentleman, “and get Baby
Bunty’s slippers. Don’t let her go to the party until I get back.”
“Oh, she can’t go without her slippers,” spoke Nurse Jane. “I’m going in
now and curl her fur.”
So while the muskrat lady did this Uncle Wiggily hopped over the fields
and through the woods to the seven and eight cent store to get Baby
Bunty’s party slippers.
Now the rabbit gentleman had not gone very far over hill and dale than,
all at once, he saw a nice hoptoad lady limping along the woodland path,
trying to carry a loaf of dandelion bread. But she was going very
slowly, was the hoptoad lady, and, every now and then, she would drop
the loaf of bread.
“Why, my dear Mrs. Toad, what’s the matter?” kindly asked Uncle Wiggily
as he caught up to her. “Have you met with an accident?”
“I should say so,” was the answer. “An automobile ran over my toes, and
I can hardly walk; much less carry the loaf of dandelion bread.”
“Then allow me to carry it for you,” said Uncle Wiggily. And he did, and
he helped the hoptoad lady limp to her home under an old log.
“I know what it is to be lame and hardly able to walk,” spoke Mr.
Longears, as the toad lady thanked him. “I am only too glad that I could
help you,” said he.
Then he hopped on a little farther and he met a bumble bee caught fast
in the sticky gum of a pine tree. With his red, white and blue striped
rheumatism crutch, Uncle Wiggily helped the bee get its legs free, and
away it flew.
“If I can ever help you I will, dear Uncle Wiggily,” buzzed the bee.
Then the bunny uncle hopped on and on, and pretty soon he came to the
store where Nurse Jane had told him to get Baby Bunty’s slippers.
But alas! When he reached the place the store was closed, for it was
much later in the afternoon than Uncle Wiggily had thought. It was so
light, and with the clocks being set an hour ahead, you know, that he
thought he had plenty of time. But the store was locked for the night.
“Well, if I can’t get Baby Bunty’s slippers here I’ll have to go to a
drug store or somewhere else,” thought the bunny rabbit. “Drug stores
keep open late.”
But the drug stores did not sell party slippers for little rabbit girls,
and, though he tried in many other places, and even in a moving picture
show, Uncle Wiggily could buy no slippers for Baby Bunty.
“Oh, dear! What shall I do?” thought Mr. Longears. “Baby Bunty will be
so disappointed! She can’t go to the party without slippers! Oh, dear!
What shall I do?”
“Ha! Perhaps I can help you, Uncle Wiggily,” said a buzzing voice. “I am
the bumble bee to whom you were so kind. I know where there are a lot of
lady slippers, and——”
“Oh, but Baby Bunty is too small to wear a lady’s slipper,” said the
rabbit. “But where are those of which you speak?”
“Right over here,” buzzed the bee, and he flew over to where there was a
large bed of the flowers called “Lady’s Slippers.” He perched upon a
pink blossom and said: “Here are some very small flowers, Uncle Wiggily,
I’m sure they would do for Baby Bunty.”
“And if they are too large I can make them smaller,” said another voice.
“I am the toad lady whom you helped,” the voice went on, “and I can take
a tuck in the flower slippers with some toad-flax, sewing them up, and
making them just fit Baby Bunty.”
“Oh, I wish you would,” said Uncle Wiggily.
So he picked two of the smallest lady slipper flowers which the bee
pointed out, the toad lady made them smaller, and Baby Bunty wore them
to Alice Wibblewobble’s party. And all the animal girls said:
“Oh, aren’t Baby Bunty’s slippers cute!”
So everything came out all right.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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