Chapter III: Part 3

Well, sir, when it came to pay, the toll was more than a lettuce leaf dollar bill. Dear me, yes. But what it was I won’t bother to tell you, for I haven’t had time to count the passengers. Have you?

As soon as the toll gate swung open, over the bridge, pranced the billy goats, rapperty rap, rapperty rap, and before very long they were galloping up a steep hill, for those billy goats didn’t mind that. No, siree! They were used to climbing mountains and, besides, everybody was singing:

“I want to go to the Circus,
To see the elephants dance.
I want to run round the sawdust ring
In my very best Sunday pants.

I’m crazy to sip the pink lemonade,
Oh, get me in time for the Big Parade!
Oh, hurry up faster, for I am afraid
I’ll surely go crazy if we are delayed!”

My goodness! how that Billy Goat Coach rolled over the pebbles and over the stones. And how those billy goats pranced and threw out their heels, shook their heads and their long horns.

“Gid-ap!” barked the Old Dog Driver.

“Let ’er go!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky.

Away, faster than ever, and faster still, went the billy goats up the big steep hill, and down the other side to Rabbitville.

Along Lettuce Avenue they clattered, past the Three-in-One Cent Store, past the Welsh Rarebit Club and the Post Office, from the doorway of which the Old Maid Grasshopper waved a white pocket handkerchief; past the Old Mill where the Dusty Moth Miller ground the corn for the farmer bunnies; past the house of Dr. Quack, the famous duck doctor, and the little green house in which Mrs. Mouse lived.

Dear me! I could go on and on just like the old coach, and say so much that I’d have no room to put in what happened when it finally drew up in Turnip City.

“Whoa there, my good little billy goats!” shouted the Old Dog Driver, as the big Policeman Dog held up his paw to stop the taxis and wagons until everybody was safe on the sidewalk. Then the Old Dog Driver gave the billy goats a nice drink of water at the fountain and drove around to the wagon entrance on Cabbage Street.

Well, it didn’t take the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow people long to walk into the tent. Uncle Lucky headed the procession, Little Jack Rabbit next, then Grandma Bunny and Lady Love, Mr. Rabbit and the Big Brown Bear, until, way down at the end, waddled Ducky Waddles.

“Quack, quack! Please hurry!” he begged, beginning to fear the circus would be over by the time he entered the tent.

But he needn’t have worried, for the Old Dog Driver had arrived early.

“Come on, Timmie Meadowmouse,” cried the little bunny, “I must see the animals.”

Pretty soon they came to a little tent. They didn’t know it belonged to the Circus Queen, the lovely lady dressed in gauze and gold spangles, who rode on the big white horse.

There she sat on a circus trunk, holding in her arms a little baby.

“Hush-a-by, hush-a-by,
Little Boy Blue,
Mother is singing
A dream song to you.

Some day you’ll grow
To be a big Clown,
And you’ll make ’em laugh
In city and town.

But I’ll love you best,
If you’ll whisper ‘Goo, goo.’
To help me remember
How little were you.”

“Gracious me!” she exclaimed in a whisper on seeing Little Jack Rabbit and Timmie Meadowmouse, “am I dreaming? Maybe I’m in By-low Land!”

“No, m’am,” answered the little bunny, taking off his khaki cap, “I hear them calling you!”

Sure enough, a man’s voice was shouting, “Liz, oh, Liz! Liz, Liz!”

“I’m coming,” answered the Circus Queen, tenderly placing the sleeping baby in its cradle.

Just outside stood a big white horse, and before the little bunny could say “Oh! Ah!” she was riding into the big tent. “Hurrah! Hurray! Here’s Lizzie Gray, she’s riding better every day!” clapped and shouted all the people.

But nobody knew she was a loving mother nor that just outside in the little tent slept Boy Blue.

All of a sudden the band struck up and a funny clown began to sing:

“Uncle Lucky’s Big Star Show,
That’s our circus name,
From Lettuce Square to Everywhere
We play the circus game.

Over the tanbark in the ring
I turn a somersault or a spring,
And then I give a merry laugh
That tickles to death the big giraffe.”

After that the big parade went around the ring, pretty girls dressed up as butterflies, elephants gayly decorated with diamond chains, camels carrying gorgeously gowned ladies, big floats with funny little dwarfs. Everything you can think of, and lots of things you’d never dream of.

My, wasn’t it fun. Well, I guess yes three times, and maybe four. I’m sure I can’t count, I’m so excited just writing about the circus.

For I’m still a boy I’ll let you know,
And I’m never too tired or fagged to go
To see the circus. Not me, you bet!
If it hadn’t closed down I’d be there yet.

“Hurrah!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. “There’s the circus Queen!”

“Hurray!” shouted the Big Brown Bear, and the next minute he shouted it three times for the trained bear had begun to roller skate.

Goodness me! How the Shady Forest Folk and the Sunny Meadow People enjoyed it all. Even Grandmother Magpie smiled and clapped her wings. As for Granddaddy Bullfrog, he hip-hurrayed until he grew so husky that he didn’t make a sound when he opened his mouth.

By and by, after a while, the show ended and Little Jack Rabbit’s Circus Party marched out and into the Billy Goat Stage Coach.

“Good-by, come again next year!” cried the big Policeman Dog on the street corner.

“Much obliged,” answered Uncle Lucky, waving his old wedding stovepipe hat. “We’ll be back inside a year, see you keep the crossing clear; let no taxi run us down when we come to Turnip Town.”

Then away rattled the stage coach, the two little billy goats prancing up Lettuce Avenue as gayly as you please.

“Toot, toot!” went the ferryboat whistle, as it neared the river. “Hurry up!” it seemed to say. So the Old Dog Driver cracked his whip over the heads of the billy goats and in a few minutes all were on board.

“Tinkle, tinkle!” sounded the bell, the big paddle wheels commenced to turn, and in less time than I can take to tell it the ferryboat was half across the River Sippi, and almost before dear Uncle Lucky could get his shoes shined it bumped into the ferry slip.

“Well, well, well! Here we are!” exclaimed the dear old gentleman rabbit, when the Billy Goat Stage Coach at last drew up before the Old Bramble Patch;

“There’s no place like home,
Be it ever so humble,”
Said the little gold bee
With a buzz and a bumble.

In a few minutes the coach was empty and as soon as the little people of the forest and meadow had thanked Little Jack Rabbit for a good time, they either hopped or ran or flew to their homes. Pretty soon there was nobody left, so the happy rabbit family hopped into the little white house in the Old Bramble Patch. In a few minutes the nice old lady bunny and Lady Love had prepared a nice hot supper.

“I declare,” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, setting down his cup of hot turnip tea, “that certainly was the best circus I’ve been to in many a year.”

“I’ll tell the world,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit.

“What do you know about circuses, you little bunny?” laughed the funny old gentleman rabbit. “This is the first time you’ve ever been to one.”

“That doesn’t matter,” answered the little bunny. “I’ve dreamed about them many a time, and some dreams are very real.”

“Make your dreams come true—
Dreams are part of you,”

softly twittered the little canary.

“That reminds me of a story,” mused dear Uncle Lucky, pushing up his spectacles and settling himself comfortably in the old arm chair:

“Once upon a time a little bird in a blue coat sat on an Old Snake Fence. All around him the earth was dingy, the trees bare and leafless. The chilly wind kept little patches of snow still lingering in the shady hollow places. But all this didn’t keep the brave little bird from whistling merrily, for in his heart he held a dream of summer, red roses and green woods, grassy meadows and little hills covered with wild strawberries.

“So he sang his song of promise to his mate while she made a comfortable nest in a dry hole in a fence post. By and by, when it was finished, she filled it with pretty eggs, on which she sat to warm them with her feathers. And while she sat there she, too, dreamed—dreamed of four little bluebirds.

“As the sun grew warmer and the meadow greener and the forest more leafy, one by one the little bluebirds broke open the shells.

“‘Tirel loo, tirel loo,
Make your happy dreams come true.
See, the spring has come again
With the sunshine after rain,
And beneath the mother’s breast
Four blue birdies in the nest,’

sang the Bluebird from the top rail of the Old Snake Fence. There,” said dear Uncle Lucky, “that’s all!”

BUNNY TALE 10

THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT

For days nobody talked of anything but the Circus party. From bush and tree in the Shady Forest, from hollow and hill in the Sunny Meadow, the Little Feathered and Fourfooted Folk were telling over and over again the wonderful things they had seen at the circus.

“Gracious me,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, “that cousin of mine certainly can roller skate.”

“Well, he was no better than my relative who flew through the ring of flames,” cried Professor Jim Crow.

“Nor any braver than my nephew who fired the pistol. That pup was some dog!” barked the Yellow Dog Tramp, wagging his tail.

“Well, just the same, I’m glad to be back on my old log,” said Granddaddy Bullfrog. “There’s always something going on in the Old Duck Pond. If it isn’t a perch chasing a minnow, it’s Ducky Waddles. Mrs. Darning Needle is never idle and the little tadpoles make me laugh.”

After a week, however, every one settled down again. Little Jack Rabbit had almost forgotten that he’d ever been to a circus when one day just about noontime, who should come along but the Big Circus Elephant. Dear me, how tired he looked! His coat was covered with dust and there was a dent in the little hat on the top of his head. I suppose in coming through the Shady Forest the big animal had brushed against a branch.

“Whew, I’m tired!” he cried, sitting down under the Big Chestnut Tree near which Chippy Chipmunk had his home. “It’s a long way from Turnip City.”

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit, hopping up beside him. “How long did it take you?”

“Two days and forty-four miles,” answered the tired Elephant. “But I’m here at last. So let’s forget troubles and look ahead, as my good mother used to say when I was a kid in Jungle Land.”

“Are you hungry?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. “I have two lollypops and a custard pie in my knapsack.”

“Let’s look at ’em,” answered the Elephant, taking off his hat to wipe his forehead with a pocket handkerchief as large as a table cloth.

“Here they are,” said the little bunny.

“Look pretty nice,” grunted the Circus Elephant, carefully holding the pie with the little finger on the end of his trunk. “Tastes just as good. Got any more?”

“No, but Mother bakes to-day,” answered the bunny boy, “perhaps she’ll bake a big one for you.”

When the Elephant had finished the lollypops he felt better, so he said, and, taking off his hat, he leaned against the Big Chestnut Tree and fell asleep.

“My goodness! It takes an elephant a long time to wake up,” thought the little rabbit, when at last his big circus friend opened his eyes.

“Nothing like a little nap,” yawned the great big animal, rubbing his ear and stretching his hind legs. After that he yawned again, turning up his trunk to get a good long breath of fresh air.

“I dreamed you were handing me a peanut.”

“My, but you snored,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. “I couldn’t go to sleep until I pretended you were a big engine in a lollypop factory.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Circus Elephant. “That reminds me. Didn’t you say it was baking day at the Old Bramble Patch?”

“I did,” replied the bunny boy.

“All right, we’ll make a call on your mother,” said the Circus Elephant, scrambling to his feet. “How do I look?” he asked, straightening his bow tie.

“Very nice,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, “except your trousers. They’re all covered with bits of dry leaves.”

“So they are,” said the Circus Elephant, looking down. “Have you a whisk broom?”

The little bunny opened his knapsack and, taking out a small broom, carefully brushed off the big Elephant.

“I can’t reach your hip-pocket,” he said, standing on tiptoe.

“Here, give me the broom,” said the Circus Elephant, and, grasping the handle in his trunk, he dusted himself off as well as Mister Rastus Coon, the kind porter on the “Cabbage” Pullman Car, brushes a sleepy passenger.

“Now I’ll lift you up on my back,” and the next minute Little Jack Rabbit found himself riding off on the big animal.

By and by, after a while, and maybe a mile and a bump and a smile, they met Old Man Weasel. But Little Jack Rabbit wasn’t afraid. Oh, dear, no! Why should he be? He was way up high on the Circus Elephant’s broad back. Old Man Weasel couldn’t reach up that far, not even if he stood on tiptoe.

“Get out of my way,” roared the big Elephant. “You’re blocking up the path.”

“Where are you going?” snarled Old Man Weasel, stepping aside. My, didn’t he look ugly! Well, I just guess he did. But that didn’t do him any good.

“Never you mind,” replied the Circus Elephant. “You’re no friend of ours.”

“If you meet a wicked weasel
And you are all alone,
You get a creepy feeling
Along your spinal bone.

But if you have an elephant
To guard you with his trunk,
You laugh at Mr. Weasel,”
Sang naughty Sammy Skunk

from his Shady Forest house.

“Oh, keep quiet, will you?” snapped the Old Weasel.

“Why should he?” asked the big Circus Elephant. “He speaks the truth. Can’t say that about you!”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “Won’t Uncle Lucky smile when I tell him what has happened?”

“I’ve a good mind to bite you,” cried Old Man Weasel, glaring at Sammy Skunk.

“You’d better not,” replied Sammy Skunk. “You know what I’ll do to you.”

Of course Old Man Weasel did, and so did all the Shady Forest Folk. But if they don’t meddle with Sammy Skunk he treats them very politely. Yes, indeed.

“Well, so long,” sang out the big Circus Elephant. “We’ve no more time to talk,” and off he went at a rapid pace, and by and by, after a while, not nearly a mile, with a bump and a smile, he stopped at the gate in the old Rail Fence.

“I’ll take down the bars,” he said. “I guess Mrs. Cow won’t try to get out while we’re walking in.”

“Oh, no,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “She likes the Sunny Meadow. Besides, she is way over there,” pointing toward the Old Duck Pond. “She won’t bother us.”

After the big Circus Elephant had put back the bars he followed the Old Cow Path through the Sunny Meadow to the Old Bramble Patch in the far corner of the Old Rail Fence. Setting the little rabbit down, he wiped his forehead with a big blue silk handkerchief nearly as large as a sheet.

“When does your mother take the cake from the oven?” he asked, with a funny wink, looking at his watch.

“When it’s done,” replied the little rabbit.

“I’ll sit here and wait,” said the big Circus Elephant. So the little bunny hopped into the Old Bramble Patch and around to the back door of the little white bungalow.

Dear me, I almost forgot to say that Lady Love, the little bunny’s pretty mother, was baking angel cake that particular day.

Pretty soon the little rabbit hopped back to his big kind friend with a piece of cake almost as big as a soda cracker.

“Dear, dear,” cried the disappointed circus animal, “this may be enough for a rabbit but, goodness me! and dearest you! it isn’t a swallow for me!”

“I’ll go back for another piece,” said the little bunny, and away he hopped up the little path and around to the kitchen door. But, oh, dear me! If only he had not stopped to speak to Timmie Meadowmouse. Just then down swooped Hungry Hawk. Into an old hollow log slipped the little mouse, but before the poor little rabbit could hide this cruel bird robber picked him up in his claws and flew away toward the Shady Forest.

“Help, help!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit.

Hopping out on the kitchen porch, poor Lady Love looked up to the sky. But that’s all she could do. She had no wings to fly after her little son. And, anyway, how could she, a gentle lady bunny, fight a big cruel hawk!

But the Circus Elephant on hearing the little bunny’s cries, answered with a loud trumpet and set off at a run for the Shady Forest. My, you’d be surprised how fast an elephant can run when he wants to!

Wrinkling his forehead, he pondered what to do. All of a sudden he remembered the big long lasso in his pocket. Quickly coiling it cow-boy fashion, he let it go, Zip! And would you believe it if I didn’t tell you? The noose fell right over the old hawk’s head and around his neck just like the muffler my Uncle John used to wear when I was a boy down on the farm.

“Now I’ll bring you down!” cried the Circus Elephant. But, oh, dearest me! Quicker than the bills on the first of the month that crafty old robber hawk gave his head a wiggle-jiggle and off came the noose.

“Ha, ha!” shouted Hungry Hawk, and away he flew with poor little Jack Rabbit.

BUNNY TALE 11

THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do? I’ll never get him with my old lasso!” Cried the Circus Elephant with a sigh, As he looked at Hungry Hawk on high.

Now I hope you haven’t forgotten what just took place. How Hungry Hawk had picked up poor Little Jack Rabbit. Of course you haven’t! Nor how the big kind Circus Elephant had almost caught this bad robber bird with a long lasso.

But, dear me! I wonder what is happening to Little Jack Rabbit all this time. Maybe the cruel hawk has eaten him for dinner or supper or maybe breakfast.

“Well, I’m not going to give up hope,” said the big Elephant to himself, again setting off after Hungry Hawk, who now could hardly be made out up in the sky so far away.

By and by the Elephant came to a mountain. My, but it was a steep old mountain. Right up and down—almost straight, you know. “Dear me!” almost sobbed the anxious circus animal, sitting down to consider the best thing to do—climb up the mountain or walk around it.

“Right on the top of this mountain’s crest
Hungry Hawk has his castle nest,”

all of a sudden, just like that, shouted a voice.

“Who spoke?” asked the Elephant, mighty anxious to find out quickly if there were a road up this steep, high mountain.

“Look!” answered the same kind voice, and the next minute a little white mountain goat stood before him.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re a mountain goat,” laughed the big animal. “I’m so glad I could cry. Maybe you can climb up and rescue my Little Jack Rabbit.”

“I can’t fight old Hungry Hawk,” answered the little Mountain Goat. “He’s too strong for me.”

“Dear, dear, dearest me!” cried the poor distracted Elephant, “then how can we save my little bunny friend?”

“I can help you climb the mountain,” answered the little Mountain Goat.

“Me?” enquired the big animal. “How could you help a great big elephant up this steep, right-up-and-down, mountain, I should like to know.”

“That won’t be so hard,” answered the little Mountain Goat. “Give me your lasso.”

Throwing the loop over his horns, the little Mountain Goat started to climb up the mountain side. First he jumped to a ledge of rock, then scrambled up sideways, then sideways the other way, then another jump, and perhaps two, and then a scramble.

After working his way up almost as far as the length of the long rope, he braced his forefeet against a rock and called down: “Pull yourself up with your trunk!”

Well, sir, that’s just what that big kind anxious Circus Elephant did. He took hold of that rope with his trunk and up he went, hand over hand—I mean trunk over trunk—just like a fireman, and by and by, pretty soon, not so very quick, he stood beside the little Mountain Goat.

“Good for you,” exclaimed that plucky little animal, as the Elephant took out his big pocket handkerchief to wipe his forehead. “You came up all right. Now wait here while I climb up higher.” Up and up went the little Mountain Goat, now sideways, now straight; now the other way sideways, then a jump and a scramble, or a scramble and a jump, or two jumps, or two scrambles till, by and by, not so pretty soon, but after a while, he called down; “Come on, pull yourself up!”

Then up went the big Circus Elephant trunk over trunk—now slipping and sprawling, or sprawling and slipping till, by and by, after a while, out of breath, with a dusty smile, he stood by the side of the little Mountain Goat.

“Good for you! Now wait here till I go up. Don’t slip, but stand still.” And away went this nimble little goat up, up, up; now sideways, this way and that; now up straight; then slanting, right and left, criss-cross, with a jump and a leap, or a scramble and a scrumble, making the pebbles fly downward, and sometimes a big rock, till, by and by, after a while, up nearly a mile, he called down:

“Come on, pull yourself up!”

Again bracing his front feet, the little mountain goat held on to the long rope, the loop of which was over his strong little horns, you know, until the Elephant had drawn himself up.

“Whew!” exclaimed the big animal. “Aren’t we ’most there?”

“Almost,” answered the little Mountain Goat, and up he went again. When at last he reached the top the big Elephant could hardly touch the end of the lasso, and then only by standing up on his hind legs and stretching ’way up with his trunk. But he just could, all right. So up he went, trunk over trunk, scrambling and tugging and panting and puffing, till by and by, after a while, and it seemed like a mile, he stood by the side of the little goat on the tip-top of the mountain.

Dearest me, I thought the little Mountain Goat and the big kind Circus Elephant would never reach the mountain top, didn’t you? I’m mighty glad, for now I’ll have more room to tell you what happened as soon as they saw the nest to which old Hungry Hawk had carried Little Jack Rabbit.

“There he is,” whispered the Elephant, who had wonderful far-sighted eyes.

“Where?” asked the little goat in another whisper, only of course it was much softer than the Elephant’s.

“Don’t you see?” replied the big animal.

“Oh, yes, now I do,” answered the little Mountain Goat. “That is, I can just see the tips of his ears.”

“Dear me, how can I get over to him without Hungry Hawk seeing me?” asked the big anxious Elephant.

“Hide behind this rock,” advised the little goat. “I’ll skip about and maybe Hungry Hawk will go for me. If he does, I’ll jump behind the rock and you can grab him with your long trunk.”

“Good idea,” laughed the Elephant softly. “You’ve got quite a head under your horns. Yes, sireebus!”

Then with a gentle shuffle he tip-toed behind the rock and the little Mountain Goat went skip-toeing, hipperty-hop, over toward the big nest.

All of a sudden there was a great whirring of wings and up flew Hungry Hawk, circling just above the little goat, stretching down his long sharp claws, opening his great bill and clapping it together with a snap.

“Bleat, bleat!” went the little Mountain Goat, pretending he was frightened. Then back he turned and skip-toed over to the big rock.

“Ha, ha!” thought Hungry Hawk to himself. “I’ll have a nice tender little goat for dinner. Little Jack Rabbit is only big enough for supper.”

Perhaps the little goat heard old Hungry Hawk, for he gave two more little bleats and hid behind the great big stone.

“Ha, ha!” again laughed Hungry Hawk. “I’ll dash down behind that rock and grab that little goat before he can wink his left eye three times!”

Whish, whish! went the big robber bird’s wings, and swish! swish! went his long tail as he swung around the corner of the big rock.

Then something happened. Oh, my, what a scuffle there was for the next few minutes! Goodness me! The air was full of funny squawky noises and feathers were flying here and there and everywhere! For no sooner had Hungry Hawk flown around the big rock to catch the little Mountain Goat than the Circus Elephant reached out his long trunk, catching by the neck that wicked bird before he could turn away.

Goodness me! again. How Hungry Hawk flapped his wings and wiggled his tail and clawed with his long hooked toes! But that didn’t do a bit of good. Dear me, no! It only made matters worse, for the harder he struggled the more the Elephant swung him around until, goodness knows, he would have lost every feather if he hadn’t begged in a squeaky, stifled voice to be allowed to sit down and talk matters over.

“Talk matters over?” grunted the Elephant, holding on to the tip of the old hawk’s tail, “what’s the use? I’m going to take Little Jack Rabbit home with me. As for you, I’ve a good notion to whack your head against the rock till you see stars and comets.”

“Oh, please don’t,” begged Hungry Hawk, “I’ve had enough banging for a year. I’ll give you Little Jack Rabbit and a cigar coupon if you’ll let me go.”

“Come along with me till I see if the little bunny is safe and well,” answered the big circus animal, and he and the little Mountain Goat walked over to the old hawk’s nest. There stood poor little Jack Rabbit tied fast to a ring in the big rock. He was so glad to see his dear friend the Elephant that he almost cried—maybe he did shed a tear or three and perhaps four.

Well, sir. Troubles weren’t over, just the same. For now they all had to climb down the high, steep and straight mountain side.

“Get on my back, little bunny,” said the kind Circus Elephant. “I’ll go down backwards the same as I came up frontwards, only different.”

Then the little Mountain Goat braced his forefeet against the rock and the big elephant took hold of the lasso, the loop end of which was over the little goat’s horns, you know, and down the side of the steep mountain slid the big animal, first one foot, then two, then three and finally four, and when he reached the end of the rope he waited for the little Mountain Goat to come down, and then they started all over again. The little Mountain Goat braced his feet against the rock and the big elephant took hold of the rope and slid and slid and scrambled and scrambled, or jiggled and rumbled, down and down, until he came to the end of the long lasso.

“My goodness meebus, that was a high mountain,” gasped the Circus Elephant, when at last his hind feet touched the level meadow. “Really, I thought I’d never get down.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” laughed the little Mountain Goat, shaking his head till the lasso fell off his horns. “I run up and down sometimes three times a day.”

“All right, but don’t ask me to,” replied the Elephant. “Although I’d do it all over again for Little Jack Rabbit’s sake.”

“Oh, won’t I be glad to get home to mother,” sighed the little bunny. “I was so frightened up there on the mountain top with Hungry Hawk. Dear, dear me! Have I been dreaming?”

“No, not this time,” answered the big circus animal. “But, cheer up! I’ll take you home in a jiffy,” and saying good-by to the little Mountain Goat he trotted off at a rapid rate.

By and by it grew dark. Oh, yes, very dark. You couldn’t see your hand behind your face. So the Circus Elephant stopped to think what was best to do. He was afraid, you see, that he might bump into something or other or be arrested by the Policeman Dog. One can never tell on a dark night what may happen.

Pretty soon a tiny light appeared in the distance. Then it came nearer and nearer, but never growing much larger. Wasn’t that strange and queer?

“My tiny lantern in the dark
Throws just a little twinkle spark.
But maybe it will help you see
Danny Fox behind a tree,”

cried a little voice.

And that’s just what it did, for the little firefly swung her tiny lantern to and fro until the big elephant said all of a sudden:

“I see him!” Which so frightened the old robber that he turned and fled.

“Go ahead, little firefly. I’ll follow if you don’t go out,” went on the big brave circus animal.

“Never fear,” answered the little firefly. “I have a tiny electric bulb in my lantern. You don’t think I use a flickery candle, do you?”

“Bend your head or maybe you’ll be brushed off my back,” warned the Circus Elephant, following the tiny light. So Little Jack Rabbit lay flat down on the big animal’s back and away they went through the darkness, in and out among the forest trees, while Billy Breeze sang a sleepy song about rocking chairs and tick-tocky clocks and tired feet and little pink socks.

BUNNY TALE 12

THE RESCUE

The Firefly with her little light
Went twinkling through the quiet night.
In and out among the trees
She fluttered ’neath the whispering leaves,
Until at last with wondrous sense
She lighted on the Old Rail Fence.

“Here we are,” exclaimed the Circus Elephant, taking down the bars and stepping into the Sunny Meadow, “here we are, safe home at last.”

But Little Jack Rabbit never answered a word.

“He must be asleep,” thought the kind Circus Elephant. “I won’t wake him up,” and off he trotted to the Old Bramble Patch. There stood Lady Love and Mr. Rabbit at the gate, anxiously waiting for the return of their little bunny son.

“Here he is,” laughed the big animal.

“Where?” asked Lady Love.

“Why, on my back, of course,” answered the Circus Elephant.

“I don’t see him,” said Mr. Rabbit.

“Nor I,” cried Lady Love, tearfully.

“Not on my back?” shouted the big kind circus beast, stretching around his big trunk to feel behind his great ears. But the little rabbit wasn’t there.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” cried Lady Love, “he’s lost.”

“Don’t cry,” begged Mr. Rabbit. “We’ll find him, never fear,” and hopping back into the little bungalow, he came out in a minute or two with a lantern. At once they all set out for the Shady Forest. All of a sudden Old Barney Owl tooted his horn.

“I don’t like that,” cried Mr. Rabbit; “owls are fond of little rabbits.”

“Come on, let’s run,” whispered the big Elephant. “Maybe we can scare the old bird,” and off he trotted at a rapid rate, the little bunnies hopping along, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, and the big circus animal bumperty bump, bumperty bump on his four large feet.

Pretty soon again from a big tall tree sounded the old owl’s toot! toot! toot! Quick as a wink the Circus Elephant pushed his trunk up into the branches and the next minute down came Old Barney Owl. The Elephant, you see, had grabbed him before he could fly away.

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” he asked, shaking the old bird until his teeth—I beg pardon, I mean his feathers—almost fell out.

“Oh, please don’t shake me till I’m blue
And lose my feather whiskers, too,”
Cried Barney Owl, all out of breath,
And frightened nearly half to death.

“I haven’t done anything with him.”

“Yes, you have,” shouted the two little rabbits.

“Of course you have,” said the elephant, “now confess.”

But Old Barney Owl answered: “No, no, no! I haven’t even seen Little Jack Rabbit!”

“Well, you come along and help us find him,” said the Circus Elephant, and off they started again, the two little bunnies ahead, then the big Elephant and Old Barney Owl.

By and by whom should they meet but Old Man Weasel. He tried not to show himself, but before the old four-footed, tip-toey thief could hide he was made to answer a lot of questions.

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” asked the big Circus Elephant.

“What have you done with our little son?” demanded Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love.

“I haven’t seen him,” answered Old Man Weasel.

“Are you telling the truth?” asked the Elephant.

“I certainly am,” answered the old weasel. “I wouldn’t be hanging around here if I had caught a nice fat little bunny.”

“Well, you come along with us. That will keep you out of mischief. When we’ve found Little Jack Rabbit you can go home to your wife,” answered the big Elephant.

So off again started the party, Old Barney Owl ahead, next the two little rabbits, then the big Elephant and Old Man Weasel.

All of a sudden, just like that, there sounded a mournful howl. Oh, dear me! but it was a hair-raising, teeth-chattering, goosey-flesh kind of a cry.

“What’s that?” asked Lady Love, with a shiver.

“Mr. Wicked Wolf,” replied the big Elephant, with a loud trumpet. At once Mr. Wicked Wolf answered with a dismal howl. Then the Elephant trumpeted again.

“Mr. Wicked Wolf has a dismal howl
And a big red mouth and an angry scowl,
His teeth are long and sharp and thin,
Oh, your knees knock together when you see him grin,”

whispered Old Barney Owl, as a dark shadow crept in and out among the trees.

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” demanded the big Circus Elephant.

“I haven’t seen him,” answered Mr. Wicked Wolf.

“Yes, you have,” cried Lady Love.

“What do you know about it?” snarled the old wolf. “If the big Elephant weren’t around I’d make you keep quiet.”

“That’s enough,” said the Elephant, reaching out his trunk to tweak Mr. Wicked Wolf’s ear. “Don’t get gay around here. You come along and help find the little rabbit. You’ll be out of mischief while with us and if we don’t find him pretty soon, I’ll put you and Old Man Weasel and Old Barney Owl in a big bag and shake you up and down and all around till your bones rattle!”

Then off again started the party, Old Barney Owl in the lead, Mr. Wicked Wolf and Old Man Weasel next, then Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love, and last of all, the big Circus Elephant. Every once in a while he’d swing his long lasso, cow-boy fashion, around Mr. Wicked Wolf, or pull up Old Man Weasel with a sharp jerk. And now and then, so’s not to let Old Barney Owl feel lonesome, he’d drop the noose around that old night bird’s head and yank him over backwards. This kept these three bad people mighty well behaved, let me tell you, while looking for Little Jack Rabbit—or pretending to look for him.

All of a sudden Danny Fox was seen sneaking behind a pile of brush.

“Come here, you old chicken thief,” shouted the Elephant, and without waiting for the old fox to decide whether he would or not, the big Elephant threw the lasso over his head, pulling him in as nicely as you please.

“Tell me what you’ve done with Little Jack Rabbit?” demanded the big circus animal, giving the rope a jerk to make the old fox answer quickly.

“I haven’t seen him,” replied Danny Fox, with a whine. “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

“Yes, you have,” shouted the two little rabbits.

“What have you done with Little Jack Rabbit?” once more demanded the Elephant, although he’d already twice asked Danny Fox that very same question.

“I haven’t seen the little bunny,” again whined the old fox, “indeed, I am telling the truth.”

“You never told the truth in your life,” cried the big Elephant. “You’re an old chicken thief!”

“Please, please, don’t jerk that rope,” begged Danny Fox. “It hurts my neck.”

“Well, come along with us,” said the big circus animal, “you may help us find Little Jack Rabbit. At any rate, we’ll know where you are,” and he made the old fox join the party.

By and by, after a while, as they marched through the Shady Forest, looking here and peeking there, up and down and all around, they heard a little voice say;

“I know where Little Jack Rabbit is.”

“Where?” cried Lady Love.

“Where?” shouted Mr. Rabbit.

“Tell us quick,” cried the big Circus Elephant, holding up his ears to catch the faint whisper.

Then the little voice came again, only a little louder than before.

“Over there by the Bubbling Brook,
Where it turns and twists in the shady nook,
Caught in between two little trees,
Little Jack Rabbit is held by the knees.”

“Thank you, little voice,” cried Lady Love, and away she hopped to the shady nook, followed by Mr. Rabbit and the rest—only the rest didn’t hop, they all ran, except Old Barney Owl, who flew.

Pretty soon, not so very far, they reached the Bubbling Brook and, following it along, they hurried on until, all of a sudden, they heard Little Jack Rabbit calling for help.

“Cheer up, my baby rabbit,” shouted Lady Love.

Goodness me! how fast Lady Love hopped along until, quicker than a wink, she came to the two little trees.

“Oh, my little bunny,” she sobbed. “Are you hurt?”

“Maybe,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “I’m not quite sure.”

Just then up came the big Circus Elephant. Bending apart the two trees with his great strong trunk, he shouted:

“Pull him out! pull him out!”

But Little Jack Rabbit didn’t need any help. No, sireemam. No sooner were the trees pushed apart than out he hopped all by himself right into Lady Love’s arms. And I guess that’s the nicest place to be when you’re hurt—right in mother’s arms.

“Now all you old robbers can go home,” said the big circus animal.

“Good-by,” said Old Man Weasel.

“Good-by,” cried Mr. Wicked Wolf.

“So long,” whined Danny Fox.

“Tooty fruiti!” cried Old Barney Owl, and the next minute there was no one left but the three little rabbits and the big Circus Elephant.

“Come here,” said the big kind animal and carefully picking up Little Jack Rabbit with his strong trunk, lifted him up on his back.

“Now we’ll go home to the Old Bramble Patch,” and off he trotted, followed by Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love.

By and by, after a while, and many a mile, they came to the Rail Fence. Crossing the Sunny Meadow, although of course it wasn’t sunny at this hour—night time, you know,—they soon reached the Old Bramble Patch.

“Oh, I’m so happy,” laughed Lady Love, as the big elephant placed her little rabbit on the ground, “I’m so happy I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t,” replied the big kind animal. “Just let me know the next time you bake an Angel Cake—that’s all,” and off he trotted to the Shady Forest.

“Good-by, old friend,” called Mr. Rabbit.

“I’ll see you all again,” replied the Elephant. “But I must hurry, for to-morrow the circus closes in Turnip City, and I must be there to help take down the big tent.”

It wasn’t long before all three little bunnies were sound asleep. Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love were tired out from their long search and Little Jack Rabbit,—well, he was tired and sleepy, anyway, as all small bunnies should be.

BUNNY TALE 13

DANNY FOX

“Wake up, wake up, it’s breakfast time!
The Old Red Rooster is crowing a rime,
The doves on the roof are cooing away
And Bobbie Redvest is singing his lay,”

sang the musical alarm clock.

Out of bed hopped Little Jack Rabbit and parting his hair down the middle of his back with a little chip, picked up his knapsack and hurried down to the breakfast table.

Lady Love’s carrot coffee and lollypop porridge soon made the little bunny lose his appetite. Wasn’t that too bad? Well, I don’t know. I’d gladly lose my appetite for lollypop stew.

“Where’s father?” he asked, wiping his lips on a nice clean lettuce leaf napkin.

“Down at the Post Office,” answered his pretty mother. “He said for you to stay near the Old Bramble Patch until he got back.”

“All right,” answered the good little bunny. “May I go now, mother dear?”

“Have you polished the front doorknob and fed the canary and filled the woodbox?” she asked, with a smile. I guess she knew the little rabbit had forgotten all about his daily morning duties.

“Dear, dear, I forgot,” cried the little bunny and, picking up the box of brass polish and a rag, he set to work on the doorknob. Pretty soon it looked like a golden ball under the bright beams of Mr. Merry Sun. Perhaps he thought he’d help the little rabbit. Who knows!

Next the bunny boy fed the pretty canary in her little gold cage, which hung in the kitchen during the winter, but when the days grew warm and bright, on the front porch. After her tiny cup was filled with birdseed the little bunny hopped out to the woodpile.

“Hello, there,” said the Old Red Rooster, whom Uncle Lucky had sent over to spade the kitchen garden and plant the vegetables, “how’s Little Jack Rabbit this morning?”

“Oh, I’m all right,” answered the little bunny, picking up the hoe which the old fowl had left by the flower-bed. “I’m all right and I’m all glad and I’m fond of my mother and my dad.”

“Whoa, there, Mr. Rabbit Poet!” cried the Old Red Rooster. “How do you get that way?”

“I’ve been reading a poetry book,” answered the little bunny, handing a rose to Lady Love, who at that moment hopped out to the garden. Pretty soon she went back in the kitchen. It’s mighty lucky that she did, for just then, all of a sudden, something happened. And it would have been quite dreadful if the Old Red Rooster hadn’t given a timely warning. Yes, sir, if, right then he hadn’t hollered “Look out!” there would be little use in my putting it in now.

The moment the little bunny heard the warning he hopped through the window, quick as a wink. And it was mighty lucky that he did, for right there under the trees stood Danny Fox.

“Good morning,” he said, with a smile. But it didn’t look like a smile to Little Jack Rabbit. Oh, dear, no! It looked like a great big white-toothed grin. That’s what it did, and I guess the little bunny was right.

“I think it’s a bad morning,” replied Little Jack Rabbit. “You’ve changed everything.”

“Don’t say that,” whined Danny Fox. “What makes you so unfriendly?”

“Never you mind, you old robber,” shouted the Old Red Rooster from the top of the woodshed, on which he had taken refuge.

“Oh, you’re around,” snarled Danny Fox. “I thought you were working for Uncle Lucky Lefthindfoot, the old gentleman rabbit.”

“Well, you’ve got another think,” replied the Old Red Rooster, “and if you don’t get out of here I’ll send a wireless message to the Policeman Dog to put you in jail.”

“Yes, you will,” sneered the old fox. “How are you going to send a message, I’d like to know.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Old Red Rooster, with a jump and a big flap of his wings. And, would you believe it! he flew from the woodshed right over to the roof of the cowshed next the Little Red Barn! Then up he jumped to the little window overhead. That’s what he did, the wise old fowl.

“I wonder what he’s going to do?” thought Danny Fox, beginning to grow uneasy. “I wonder what he’s up to?” and again the old fox looked here and there, fearing some trick was to be sprung upon him.

“Cock-a-doodle do!” all of a sudden shouted the Old Red Rooster.

“What do you want?” asked Lady Love, looking out of the attic window. But on seeing Danny Fox she almost fainted.

“Don’t worry, mother,” cried Little Jack Rabbit. “I’m safe in the kitchen. I won’t hop out till Danny Fox goes home.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed that old robber, “maybe I’ll wait here till the 4th of July.”

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” cried the little rabbit’s mother, anxiously, “please go away, Danny Fox.”

“No, siree!” answered that wicked animal. “I shall stay right here for a year and a day, and maybe I’ll never go away.”

Now wasn’t that a dreadful thing to hear? Well, I guess it was. But just you wait a minute. I think the Old Red Rooster up in the loft of the Little Red Barn will do something, and do it mighty quick, let me tell you.

“Hello, hello!” he shouted, all of a sudden, just like that, from the tiny window of the Little Red Barn.

“I’m listening,” answered Lady Love from the attic.

“I hear you,” called out Little Jack Rabbit from the kitchen. But Danny Fox didn’t say a word.

“Something’s going to happen in a minute,” shouted the Old Red Rooster. “Yes, sireebus, something’s going to happen!”

“I wonder what?” thought Danny Fox, looking this way and that way and every other way. But he saw nothing, except the grass waving in the Sunny Meadow and the treetops bending in the Shady Forest.

Pretty soon he looked up at Lady Love, then at the Old Red Rooster. What were they doing? And why was the Old Red Rooster waving his pocket handkerchief? And why was Lady Love nodding her head?

“Dear, dear!” thought the old fox, “are they crazy?”

Just then, all of a sudden, just like that, quicker than bills on the first of the month, over the Old Rail Fence jumped the Policeman Dog, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the Stagecoach Dog Driver, the Billy Goat Ferryman, the Big Brown Bear and dear Uncle Lucky, the old gentleman rabbit.

“O-o-o-o!” whined Danny Fox, looking for a way to escape. By the woodpile stood the Policeman Dog, a few feet away the Yellow Dog Tramp, over by the Little Red Barn the Stagecoach Dog; by the kitchen door the Billy Goat Ferryman, at the Old Rail Fence the Big Brown Bear and a few hops away, dear Uncle Lucky.

“O-o-o-o,” again whined Danny Fox. He felt something was going to happen to him. He knew the Policeman Dog, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the Stagecoach Dog Driver, the Billy Goat Ferryman, the Big Brown Bear and dear Uncle Lucky, the old gentleman bunny, hadn’t jumped over the Old Rail Fence for fun, but he didn’t know that the Old Red Rooster had sent for them on the radio.

Yes, siree, something was, and is, going to happen to that dreadful fox, for, quick as a wink, they all closed in on him and before he could say a word or two or three, but no more, the Policeman Dog snapped a pair of handcuffs over his front paws.

“Now, old Danny Fox, you’ll go
To jail in just a minute,
And there you’ll stay for many a day
Securely locked up in it,”

sang the Policeman Dog, swinging his club up and down just like the leader of the orchestra in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

“I hope you’ll keep him there for even longer,” said the old gentleman bunny. “He’s always after Little Jack Rabbit and me. Just the other day he nearly caught up to the Luckymobile. If he had, he would have bitten the tires.”

“He’s forever hanging around the ferryslip, waiting for a chance to grab Grandmother Goose on her way home,” said the Billy Goat Ferryman. “I never cross the river in my ferryboat but what I see him sneaking along the shore.”

“He’s always trying to hold-up my stagecoach and rob the passengers,” cried the Old Dog Driver, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “Only last week a little pig passenger nearly died of fright when he pointed his pistol at her.”

“He’s a bad lot,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I often see him stealing chickens from the farmyards.”

“He’d better keep away from my Cozy Cave,” growled the Big Brown Bear. “If I ever catch him stealing lollypops I’ll break every bone in his body.”

“Do you hear what they say about you?” asked the Policeman Dog, giving Danny Fox a good shake.

“Please let me go,” begged the old fox, “I’ve two little boys at home who will miss Daddy Fox if he isn’t home for supper.”

“Let him go,” begged the tender-hearted little bunny, “Bushytail and Slyboots will miss him so. They think he’s a lovely father.”

“Well, what do you say?” asked the Policeman Dog, turning to Uncle Lucky.

“Oh, let me go home to my den in the rocks,
Bushytail will be watching for me,
And Slyboots will stand at the old kitchen door
While Mrs. Fox puts on the tea.

The red table cloth will be spread nice and smooth,
The platters, all shiny and white.
Oh, what will they do with the nice oyster stew
If Daddy Fox comes not to-night?”

cried Danny Fox, tears falling from his eyes, as the Policeman Dog waited for Uncle Lucky’s answer.

“Oh, pshaw,” cried dear kind Uncle Lucky, “let him go.”

“I say so, too,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “That song reminds me of one my dear old mother used to sing before I left the farm to become a hobo doggie.”

“Maybe from now on he’ll behave,” cried the Billy Goat Ferryman. “I have two little kids. I know how they’d feel if their daddy didn’t come home.”

“Give the old fox another chance,” said the Old Dog Stagecoach Driver. “I remember my two little bow-wows. We had a nice home in the country.”

“I feel the same as you fellows,” cried the Big Brown Bear. “My two little cubs waited every night for me to tell them a bedtime story. They’re now in the circus, but I always think of them as little fellows. Let the old fox go for the sake of his two little boys.”

“Do you hear what they all say?” asked the Policeman Dog.

“Yes,” whined Danny Fox, and away he ran as soon as the Policeman Dog took off the handcuffs.

“Perhaps he’ll behave for a while,” said the Old Red Rooster, flying down from the hayloft. “But it’s lucky for Little Jack Rabbit that I could call you all on the wireless. Maybe that isn’t a wonderful invention.”

“Come in and have some carrot cake and turnip tea,” begged Lady Love, hopping out on the kitchen porch.

Pretty soon as they all sat around the table having a fine feast, the Yellow Tramp Dog stood up on his hind legs and barked, oh, so softly:

“I’d go back to my boyhood day
If I only knew the by-gone way.
But I have changed since the Long Ago,
With the summer wind and the winter snow,
And my feet just miss the dear old lane
Where the robin sings his sweet refrain,
And the apple blossoms, white and pink,
Fall in the nest of Bob-o-Link.”

Some day, dear boys and girls, I shall write a story about the Yellow Dog Tramp. He just sort of rubs his nose against my knee as I write these stories. Yes, he looks up at me with big brown eyes that seem to say:

“Tell the children to be kind to yellow dogs.”