Chapter II: Part 2

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.”

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“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.