Chapter IV: Part 4

“Oh, if we hit the ground now, with no soft sofa cushions to sit on, we shall surely be hurt!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “What shall I do?”

“I know,” cried Lulu Wibblewobble, the brave duck girl. “I will flap my wings very hard, just as I did in my school examinations to-day, and that will make us fall more slowly, so we will not strike the ground so hard.”

“Please do!” cried Uncle Wiggily. And Lulu did. Faster and faster she flapped her wings, beating the air with them, and this kept up the airship, just as a bird keeps itself up, and made it fall more and more slowly and gently.

“Look out!” cried the rabbit gentleman, peeping over the side of the clothes basket. “We are going to bump!”

But they did not bump very hard. For, just as they came down to the ground, Mrs. Wibblewobble had finished stuffing the sofa cushions. She ran out, and tossed them under Uncle Wiggily’s airship, and he and Lulu came down on them as lightly as a feather. But, after all, had it not been for the duck girl’s wing-flapping, I do not know what would have happened.

So this is all now, if you please, but if the tomato doesn’t jump out of the coffee can, and kiss the cucumber salad in the olive oil, I’ll tell you next, about Uncle Wiggily and the lemonade stand.

STORY XXIV

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LEMONADE STAND

“My, but it certainly is a warm day!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, the old gentleman rabbit, as he unbuttoned his fur coat and fanned his ears with a horse chestnut leaf. “I don’t know when I have been so warm!”

“It is very hot!” agreed Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, as she peeled some eggs for dinner. “I think I would not go up in my airship to-day, if I were you, Mr. Longears.”

“Oh, the heat makes no difference to me if I want to take a ride,” the rabbit gentleman answered. “Besides, you forget that I have the big Japanese umbrella over the top of my airship to keep off the hot sun. Yes, I will take a ride, and perhaps I may have an adventure; who knows?”

“True enough—who knows?” repeated Nurse Jane. “Well, if you will go, Wiggy, I suppose you will. And, since you are going, would you mind stopping at the store and bringing me home some honey for supper?”

“It will give me the greatest pleasure in the world to bring you some honey, sweetness,” said Uncle Wiggily, politely. Sometimes he called Nurse Jane “sweetness” just for a joke.

Well off the old gentleman started in his clothes basket airship. It had been all mended since the time he and Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girl, rode in it, when the bumble bee stung the balloons.

“And the sofa cushions, since Mrs. Wibblewobble put new feathers in them, are better than ever,” said Uncle Wiggily. He had the sofa cushions to fall on, you know.

Well, it kept on getting hotter and hotter that day, and, not long after Uncle Wiggily had set off to get the honey for Nurse Jane, Billie Bushytail, the little squirrel boy, said to his brother Johnnie:

“I’ll tell you what let’s do! Let’s set up a lemonade stand along the street and sell the nice, cold, sweet lemonade for five cents a glass.”

“All right!” cried Johnnie. “We’ll do it!”

So they got some old boxes—squirrel size, of course—and their mamma gave them an old tablecloth to spread over the top to make the stand look nice. Then she let the two squirrel boys take the proper things to make the lemonade—the lemons, the sugar, a pitcher, some glasses and a small piece of ice.

“We’ll make a lot of money, and buy ice cream cones!” cried Billie.

“That’s what we will!” shouted Johnnie, as he gnawed the shell off a hickory nut.

Then the squirrel boys squeezed the juice from the lemons, poured in the water and stirred it up in the pitcher.

“Say!” exclaimed Billie at that point, “we ought to have an umbrella over our stand to make it shady. There’s an old one in the house. Let’s put it up.”

“All right!” agreed Johnnie, “we will!” They both ran in the house to get the sun umbrella, and, while they were gone, a bad monkey chap, with a very large sweet tooth, sneaked up to the lemonade stand and took all the sugar. You see it had not yet been put into the lemonade pitcher. Yes, sir, the monkey took all the sugar.

And when Billie and Johnnie Bushytail had fastened the umbrella up over their stand, and went to look for the sugar to put in the cool lemonade, why, the sugar was not there! You know who had it, though Billie and Johnnie did not.

“Oh, what are we going to do?” cried Billie.

“We’ll have to get more sugar!” exclaimed Johnnie.

But alas! Likewise sorrowfulness! After giving the squirrel boys the things for the lemonade, Mrs. Bushytail had gone down to the ten and five cent store to buy a new dishpan, and had locked up the squirrel house. For she thought her boys would not want to go in again until she came back.

“We can’t get any sugar, and we can’t make any lemonade!” cried Billie, sadly.

“Oh, yes we can,” said his brother. “Let’s make it sour—without sugar. Perhaps the folks who buy it won’t mind.”

“All right,” agreed Billie. So they made sour lemonade.

Then Billie and Johnnie took their places behind the stand, and cried:

“Here you are! Nice, cold lemonade! Only five cents a glass!”

You notice they were very careful not to say “sweet lemonade,” for that would not have been true.

“Ha! Lemonade!” cried Grandfather Goosey Gander, coming along just then. “I’ll take a glass,” and he laid five cents down on the box. Billie filled a glass for him.

“Whew! Ha! Oh, mercy me! Why it’s sour!” cried Grandfather Goosey Gander, making a lot of funny faces as soon as he had sipped the lemonade.

“Yes,” said Billie sadly, “it is sour. Some one took our sugar.”

“Well, I can’t drink sour lemonade,” spoke the duck gentleman, and he took back his five cents.

“Oh, dear!” said Johnnie, sadly.

And that’s the way it was. All the animal folk who came along to drink the cold lemonade wouldn’t take it when they found it was sour. They just wrinkled up their noses and took back their money.

“Here comes Uncle Wiggily in his airship!” said Billie, after a while. “Maybe he likes sour lemonade.” So they called to him to come down and buy some. The rabbit gentleman, sailing down, laid his nickel on the box. He sipped the lemonade.

“Oh me! Oh my! and some soda crackers!” he cried, making his nose twinkle like a star on a frosty night. “That is too sour!”

“Yes,” said Billie, sadly. “Some one took our sugar, and we can’t sell any sweet lemonade, and get any money for ice cream cones, and our mamma isn’t home and——”

“Stop! Say no more! You have troubles enough!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I will sweeten your lemonade for you,” and with that he put into the pitcher some of the nice sweet honey he had brought from the store in his airship.

“Oh, joy!” cried Billie and Johnnie, tasting the lemonade which now was sweet enough for even Grandfather Goosey Gander. And the squirrel boys sold one pitcherful and part of another one. The honey was better than sugar for sweetening.

They made enough money to buy several ice cream cones, and they sent Uncle Wiggily one for giving them the honey, which made their sour lemonade sweet.

And pretty soon, if the coal man doesn’t slide a watermelon down the ironing board into the the refrigerator, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the watering hose.

STORY XXV

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE WATERING HOSE

Oh, but it was hot in animal land! It was hot and dry and dusty, for there had been no rain in a long time, and the sun shone brightly, making the leaves on the trees curl up in the heat, and wilting the pretty flowers.

“Well, if we don’t get some rain pretty soon,” spoke Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, “the garden will be spoiled, and we can have no strawberry shortcake.”

“No strawberry shortcake!” cried Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman for whom Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy kept house. “That will be too bad! But, pray tell me, what has rain to do with strawberry shortcake, if you please, Nurse Jane?”

“Rain has everything to do with it, Uncle Wiggily,” said she. “For if it does not rain, the strawberries will not grow, and if we do not have strawberries we can have no shortcake. That is, unless I put in lemons instead of strawberries.”

“Oh, no! That would never do at all!” exclaimed Mr. Longears. “We must have strawberries. I will see what I can do about making it rain.”

“How can you?” asked Nurse Jane.

“I will go up near the clouds, in my airship,” spoke the old gentleman rabbit, “and I will see if there is in them any rain that is ready to fall down, and wet the thirsty ground. And, maybe, if there is rain in the clouds I can squeeze a little out, as you squeeze water from the sponge in the bath tub.”

“I hope you can,” said Nurse Jane, as she went out into the garden to pull up some weeds.

Off the old gentleman rabbit started in his clothes basket airship, on and on, up to the clouds. But when he got there he saw no rain in them. The clouds were as dry as a piece of cheese.

“No, there is no rain here,” said Uncle Wiggily, sadly. “I wonder what I can do? I would not like Nurse Jane’s garden to dry up, for I am very fond of strawberry shortcake. I wonder what I can do?”

Uncle Wiggily in his airship rode on a little farther, and pretty soon, looking down toward the earth, over the edge of the clothes basket, he saw, far below him, some water spurting and spraying in a beautiful shower.

“Ha! There is rain down there!” the rabbit gentleman cried. “I wonder why there is none over at our place? I must go down and see.”

So down he went, and there he saw Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the two puppy dog boys, squirting water with a hose, which was fastened to the faucet of the kitchen sink.

“Now it’s my turn to squirt!” cried Jackie, as Uncle Wiggily jumped out of his airship, which had reached the ground.

“No, let me squirt just a little bit more!” begged Peetie, and his brother very kindly did.

“Ha! What have you there?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, as he went toward the puppy dog boys.

“A watering hose,” said Jackie. “You see it hasn’t rained for so long that our garden is all dried up. So papa got this hose. See, this is how it squirts.”

And just then Peetie accidentally moved the end of the hose too much, and a shower of water went all over Uncle Wiggily.

“Oh!” cried Peetie, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I’ll forgive you!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “It is so warm that it feels fine to have a hose squirted on you so I don’t care. I must get one for Nurse Jane.”

Then it was Jackie’s turn to squirt the hose, and when Peetie handed it to him, the end slipped again, and Grandfather Goosey Gander, who came along just then, was sprayed with a shower of water.

“Oh dear! I’m so sorry!” cried Jackie.

“It doesn’t matter at all!” cried the old gentleman goose. “I just love water!” And the drops rolled off his back, not wetting him at all, for a goose gentleman’s feathers are made to shed water, just as an umbrella does, you know.

“Let me try the hose,” begged Uncle Wiggily, and Jackie did so. “Yes, I really must get Nurse Jane one,” said the rabbit gentleman. “It is as good as a rain shower,” and he sprinkled water all over the dog-garden.

Then off he went in his airship to get a watering hose for his garden, leaving Peetie and Jackie to sprinkle theirs, sometimes wetting the sidewalk and sometimes spraying the animal people who went past, just as puppy dog boys will, you know.

“Ha! Now we won’t mind whether or not it rains!” cried Uncle Wiggily, when he reached his hollow stump bungalow again.

“Why not?” asked Nurse Jane, fanning herself with the dishpan. “It is hotter than ever. We need rain very badly.”

“And we shall have it!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. “See, I have a watering hose,” and he took one from his airship. He had bought it at the rubber store.

Soon the hose was attached to the kitchen faucet, and Uncle Wiggily watered the garden. And how the flowers and the lima beans and the strawberry plants lifted up their tired, dusty hot leaves, and drank the cool water that was showered on them.

And then, when the garden was nicely watered, Uncle Wiggily heard a noise out in the street, and a tired voice said:

“Oh dear! How hot I am! Oh dear!”

“Ha! Some one in trouble!” remarked Uncle Wiggily. “I must see if I cannot help them.” He went out in front, and there he saw a poor, tired, dusty ice-wagon horse, who could hardly hold up his head.

“I will water you with the hose,” said the rabbit gentleman. “That will cool you off, and rest you.”

“Please do,” begged the ice-wagon horse, and Uncle Wiggily did. And when the cool water sprayed on the hot and tired horse he felt so much better that he laughed, and held up his head, and he gave Uncle Wiggily a big cake of ice, like the one Mr. Whitewash, the Polar bear gentleman, sits on, and the ice made the hollow stump bungalow so cool that Uncle Wiggily had a fine sleep that night.

And the next day it rained, so Uncle Wiggily did not have to water with the hose. And this shows that you should always be kind to an ice-wagon horse when you can.

So if the popcorn ball doesn’t play lawn tennis with the refrigerator and get all melted up, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the thunder storm.

STORY XXVI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE THUNDER STORM

“Well, how is your garden coming on these days?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, of Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, who kept house for him. “It isn’t drying up any more; is it?”

“Oh, no,” she answered, as she tied her long tail in a double knot to keep it from dragging in the dust. “Since you so kindly bought me the watering hose, I can wet the garden whether it rains or not. And that will make everything grow.”

“Strawberries too? Will it make them grow?” Uncle Wiggily wanted to know. He was thinking of strawberry shortcake, I guess, for he was very fond of it.

“Oh, yes, the strawberries are growing very nicely,” said Nurse Jane, as she looked for the red berries under the green leaves.

“And I think you will not have to water with the hose for several days now,” the muskrat lady went on, as she glanced up at the sky.

“Why not?” Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.

“Because we are going to have a thunder shower,” said the muskrat lady. “And I think it will be quite a hard one. But it is always cooler after a thunder shower and I like them very much.”

“So do I,” agreed Uncle Wiggily. “But if it is going to rain and thunder and lighten I had better go for a ride in my airship as soon as possible. Much as I like storms, I do not want to be caught out in one up in the sky, in my airship.”

“Yes, if you are going, you had better go, and hurry back,” advised Nurse Jane.

So the old gentleman rabbit went out in the woodshed where he kept his airship, and after shaking up the sofa cushions in the clothes basket, so they would be soft and fluffy for him to fall on, in case of any accident, Uncle Wiggily blew some hot air into the toy circus balloons that raised his airship from the ground and then, starting the electric fan, that went around whizzie-izzie, up he rose into the air.

“Yes, I really think there will be a thunder storm soon,” said the old rabbit to himself, as he looked at the clouds, which were getting more and more black. “I am glad I brought along an umbrella,” for he had one, you see, in addition to the Japanese sun parasol that was over the top of the red, white and blue toy circus balloons.

Well, Uncle Wiggily was sailing around and around, looking for an adventure, when all at once he saw, a little distance away, the spire of a church steeple.

“I’ll sail over as far as that steeple,” said the old gentleman rabbit to himself, “and then I’ll go back home. Nurse Jane may get nervous if I stay away too long, with a thunder storm coming up.”

Uncle Wiggily was almost at the church steeple, when he saw a big robin red-breast flying through the air. And, just as the bird was near the church spire, there came a strong blast of wind from the storm, dashing poor robin against the hard steeple, which had an arrow on top to tell the way the wind was blowing.

“Oh dear!” cried the robin. “My wing is broken and I cannot fly any more, I will fall to the ground, and die!”

“Oh, no you will not,” said Uncle Wiggily kindly. “I will catch you on the soft sofa cushions of my airship.” Then the rabbit gentleman sent his airship right under the falling birdie, and caught it just before it struck the ground.

“Oh, thank you!” cried robin red-breast. “You have saved my life, but my wing is broken!”

“Never mind. We will have Dr. Possum mend that,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll take you to the animal doctor.” He started off in the airship again, but, before he had gone very far, there was a rumble in the sky. Then came a flash of lightning and a big boom, like that of a Fourth of July cannon. And then it began to rain very hard.

“Ha! Here is the thunder storm!” cried Uncle Wiggily, “and I am far from home and Nurse Jane. We had better go down and stay in one of these houses, until the storm is over, Mr. Bird.”

“Yes,” said the robin with a broken wing, “I think perhaps we had better do that.”

Down went Uncle Wiggily in his airship. It was raining very hard now, and the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled and rumbled very loudly indeed.

“There is a good house near that pond and barn, for us to go in out of the storm!” cried the rabbit gentleman, pointing with one ear down below, for he needed both paws with which to steer. “It is the duck pen where my friends, the Wibblewobbles, live. I’ll go there,” Uncle Wiggily said.

Down went the airship, close to the barn, where Gup, the kind horse lived.

“You hurry right into the duck pen!” cried Gup to Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll take your airship in my stable until the storm is over.”

So Uncle Wiggily hurried into the duck pen, taking the poor robin with him, and, no sooner was the rabbit gentleman inside, than he heard Lulu and Alice, the duck girls, crying as hard as they could cry.

“What is the matter with them?” he asked of Mrs. Wibblewobble.

“They are afraid of the thunder storm,” said the duck lady. And Lulu and Alice were lying in a dark room, with pillows over their heads so as not to see the lightning, and hear the thunder. As for Jimmie, the boy duck, of course he was not afraid. Boys, whether they are ducks or not, are never afraid of thunder storms.

“You mustn’t mind the thunder storm,” said Uncle Wiggily, to Lulu and Alice. “It will not hurt you. Just pretend that the thunder is only the noise of a big circus wagon going over a bridge, and the lightning is only electric flashes from a trolley car. Then you will not mind it so much.”

So Lulu and Alice pretended that way, and the robin with the broken wing sang for them, and soon the thunder storm was over, and never after that were the duck girls frightened. For whenever it thundered, Lulu would say:

“Ha! That is only a circus wagon going over a bridge.”

And when it lightened, Alice would say:

“That is only a trolley car going up hill.”

Then, when the rain had stopped, Uncle Wiggily went sailing on in his airship, taking the poor robin to Dr. Possum, who soon mended the bird’s broken wing.

So you see it is sometimes good to have a thunder storm, after all, and in the following story, if the hoptoad in our back yard doesn’t jump over the fence and tickle the pansy’s face, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the trunk.

STORY XXVII

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE TRUNK

“Are you going to do very much to-day?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, of Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, who was reading the fly paper out on the front porch one morning. He wanted to read the fly paper because it told about how to get rid of biting mosquitoes.

“Am I going to do very much?” Uncle Wiggily repeated after Nurse Jane. “Well, I was going out for a little trip in my airship, but if there is anything you would like me to do, why, I can just as well do it as not,” he said, most politely. “I can go airshipping later.”

“Then, if you will be so kind,” spoke Nurse Jane, “will you get a trunk for me out of the attic?”

“Certainly I’ll do that for you,” Uncle Wiggily promised. “Do you want an elephant’s trunk?” he asked with a funny little twinkle of his nose, “or will you have the trunk of a tree?”

“Oh, there you go! Joking again!” cried Nurse Jane. “What would I do with an elephant’s trunk?”

“Why, I didn’t know but what you might be going to give a circus,” said Uncle Wiggily with a laugh, “and they always have an elephant’s trunk in the circus.”

“Well, I’m not going to have a circus,” declared Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. “And what, pray, would I want with the trunk of a tree?”

“Why, I thought perhaps you might want to have me split it up for kindling wood, for the fire,” went on Uncle Wiggily, as he stuck the sticky fly paper on the porch screen, so it would not blow away.

“Enough of your jokes!” cried Nurse Jane, as she put her long tail up in curl papers, so she would look nice if any one asked her to go to a party. “The trunk I want is an empty one from the attic. I need it to pack away some of your suits, to keep the moths from eating them this summer. Just get down one of the clothes trunks, Wiggy. Put it in your room, and I’ll pack away the things you will not need until next winter.”

“Very well, I’ll do that,” the rabbit gentleman said kindly, and then he went up in the attic of the hollow stump bungalow.

The attic was rather a dark and dusty place; and, as it was near the top of the house, where the sun shone on it as hard as it could, it was quite warm up there.

“Humph! Yes! Bring down a trunk,” said Uncle Wiggily to himself, looking around. “There are a lot of trunks here. I wonder which one Nurse Jane meant?”

He glanced at a pile of several trunks, and finally he decided that the one painted red, white and blue, as was his barber pole rheumatism crutch, would be the best.

“I’ll take that trunk down for Nurse Jane,” said Uncle Wiggily, as he lifted it off the pile of others. “My! But it’s heavy!” he exclaimed. “I must see what’s in it.”

He opened the trunk and in it the old gentleman rabbit saw a number of play toys he had had when he was a little boy rabbit. There were baseballs and bats, and toy bows and arrows, and fish poles, and pop guns, and many other things.

“My! This makes me remember the happy days when I was young!” sighed Uncle Wiggily. “I certainly used to have fun when I was a boy. I’ll just take these things out of my trunk, and save them for Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy, and for Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels. Then I’ll take the empty trunk down to Nurse Jane. Yes, those were happy days, when I was a young rabbit boy.”

The old gentleman rabbit began emptying the trunk, taking out his old play toys, and, when he had the trunk emptied he felt rather tired. It was hot up in the attic, and he felt sleepy, also.

“I think I’ll just lie down on the trunk and take a nap,” Uncle Wiggily said. “There is really no hurry about taking it downstairs.”

Into the empty trunk he hopped, and for a pillow he took a soft baseball, which had been batted about so much that it was quite mushy.

Soon, up in the trunk in the warm attic, Uncle Wiggily was fast asleep.

And then something dreadful happened. A big rat, who had had nothing to eat in a long time, crawled out of his hole, looking for a piece of cheese. The rat saw the trunk, with the lid up, and he thought to himself:

“Maybe there is cheese in there. I’ll take a look.”

He jumped up on the lid of the trunk, and the rat was so heavy that he accidentally slammed the cover down, shutting Uncle Wiggily inside the trunk.

“Oh, dear!” cried the rat. “Now I have done it! I’m so sorry!”

“And so am I!” cried Uncle Wiggily from inside the trunk. For the banging down of the lid had awakened him.

“Can’t you get out?” asked the rat. “Try to lift up the lid. I’ll help you.”

Uncle Wiggily tried, and so did the hungry rat, but the trunk cover had locked itself when it fell down, and Uncle Wiggily could not get out.

“Oh, I shall smother in here!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Help! Help!”

“I’ll run downstairs and get the key from Nurse Jane,” the rat said. “Then I can let you out.” But Nurse Jane had gone to the store, and the rat could not find the key. Up to the attic he ran again, saying: “Oh, Uncle Wiggily, what shall I do? I can’t get the trunk key to let you out!”

“Oh, dear!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “I must get out! I am smothering in here.”

“Ha! I know what I can do!” suddenly cried the rat! “I can gnaw a hole in the trunk, and you can crawl out that way!”

So the hungry rat, with his strong teeth, quickly gnawed a hole in the side of the trunk, and Uncle Wiggily hopped out just before he smothered, so it was all right. Then he took the trunk downstairs, mended the rat hole in it and gave the kind rat something to eat, for the rat had not in the least meant to close down the trunk lid, you see.

Then Nurse Jane came back and packed away Uncle Wiggily’s clothes in the moth stuff, and the old rabbit gentleman tied up in bundles the toys he intended giving to the little animal boys, and that’s the end of this story. But, if the ice water pitcher doesn’t go to sleep under the gas stove and make the oven sneeze, when the rice pudding tickles the baked potatoes, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily going to school.

STORY XXVIII

UNCLE WIGGILY GOES TO SCHOOL

It was a beautiful day in animal land. Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, who was cleaning the mud off his airship (for he had fallen into a puddle the day before) looked up at the blue sky and said:

“Ah, it is such a beautiful day that traveling around in my airship will be a delight. I will sail off and perhaps something may happen to me. That will be an adventure.”

He kept on cleaning the mud off the clothes basket of his airship, and then he softly fluffed up the sofa cushions that kept him from getting hurt when he fell from the clouds.

“Now I am ready to start,” Uncle Wiggily said, as he put a piece of cherry pie in his vest pocket, to have it ready to eat in case he became hungry. I mean he was going to eat the cherry pie, not his vest pocket, you understand.

“Where are you going?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, coming to the door of the hollow stump bungalow, which she kept in order for Uncle Wiggily. “Where are you going?” asked Nurse Jane as she washed and wiped the face of a breakfast plate.

“Oh just to take a little trip, and perhaps have an adventure,” Uncle Wiggily said.

“Well, please bring home some pickled bananas for breakfast,” went on Nurse Jane, and Uncle Wiggily promised he would.

Then he started off in his airship, but he had not gone very far before he saw, down on the ground below him, something red, white and blue, fluttering in the wind.

“Ha! I wonder if that can be my red, white and blue striped barber pole rheumatism crutch?” said the rabbit gentleman. “It must have fallen out of my airship.”

Then he looked among the sofa cushions and went on:

“No, my crutch is here safe and sound. But I wonder what that red, white and blue is down there? I’m going to see.”

He steered his airship downward, and when he reached the ground Uncle Wiggily found that what he had seen was a fluttering flag, with red and white stripes, and white stars on a blue square. And the flag was on a pole in front of an animal school house.

“Ha! Of course! I might have known!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Well, since I am so near school, I will go in and see the nice lady mouse teacher and the animal children.”

Then he tied his airship to a mulberry bush, so it could not run away, and where it would also have something to eat, and into the school went the rabbit gentleman.

“Good morning, children,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“Good morning, Uncle Wiggily,” replied the pupils, most politely.

“What is going on here?” asked Uncle Wiggily of the lady mouse school teacher, for all the animal children were standing up in a row before her desk. “Have the children not been good?” the rabbit gentleman wanted to know, looking at Charlie Chick and at Johnnie and Billie Bushytail.

“Oh, no, indeed! The children are as good as pie!” said the teacher with a laugh.

“Ha! Speaking of pie, reminds me that I have some,” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, as he took the cherry piece out of his vest pocket. “If you will kindly allow me I will pass it around,” he went on.

“Yes, you may do so,” spoke the teacher. And the piece of cherry pie Uncle Wiggily had brought with him was so large that there was enough for each animal pupil to have some as well as Uncle Wiggily himself, and also the lady mouse school teacher.

“But, tell me, pray, why are your pupils standing in a line this way?” asked the rabbit gentleman, when the pie was all eaten.

“We are having an examination,” the teacher replied. “It is nearing the time to close the school for the summer, and I am trying to find out how much my pupils know, so that if they are smart enough they can go to a higher class. We are having an examination, you see.”

“An examination in what?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“In spelling,” answered the lady mouse. “Would you like to ask them to spell some words?”

“I should be delighted,” went on the rabbit gentleman. Then, looking straight at Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy, Uncle Wiggily said:

“Spell me the word carrot!”

“C-a-r-r-o-t,” spelled Sammie. He knew that word very well, you see, because he ate carrots every day.

“Good!” cried Uncle Wiggily. Then he looked at Billie Bushytail, the squirrel, and said:

“Spell me the word peanut!”

“P-e-a-n-u-t,” spelled Billie the first time.

“Good!” cried Uncle Wiggily. Then he looked at Charlie, the chicken boy, and said:

“Spell me the word corn!”

But before Charlie had a chance to do this, all of a sudden into the school jumped a bad old Flippity-flop. A Flippity-flop is an animal, something like a mouse-trap, only it walks on its head instead of on its toes, and it has no tail.

“Wow!” cried the bad Flippity-flop. “Here’s where I have some fun!” And that unpleasant creature began to throw pieces of chalk and the blackboard erasers around the room, and he upset the ink bottle on the floor and tickled the lady mouse teacher with a lead pencil point. Oh, the Flippity-flop was very bad, and for no reason at all, except just because he wanted to be so. Flippity-flops are always like that.

“Oh, what shall we do?” cried the lady mouse, for the children were all excited. “Call a policeman dog for me, Uncle Wiggily, to take away the bad Flippity-flop!”

“Ha! I will make the Flippity-flop go away myself!” cried Uncle Wiggily very bravely.

“No you cannot!” shouted the Flippity-flop, as he made a face at the rabbit gentleman. “You cannot make me go away!”

“Yes, I can!” said Uncle Wiggily in a very loud voice. “You spell me the word cheese! quick now! Spell me cheese!”

“Oh, wow!” cried the Flippity-flop, and then, as quick as a wink, he turned a somersault and hopped out the window, and ran off to the woods to hide. For if there is one thing more than another that a Flippity-flop is afraid of it is cheese, especially rabbit cheese.

And he could no more spell the word than he could fly, and that’s why he ran away, and every one was glad. And I guess you are, too.

“Thank you, very much, Uncle Wiggily,” said the lady mouse teacher “for driving away the bad Flippity-flop!” Then the examination went on, and all the animal children passed, and Uncle Wiggily bought some pickled bananas and went on home to Nurse Jane.

And next, if the dogwood tree doesn’t bark at the pussy willow and make its tail fluff up, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane.

STORY XXIX

UNCLE WIGGILY AND NURSE JANE

“Well, are you all ready?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, of Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as he came hurrying into the hollow stump bungalow one afternoon. “Are you all ready, Nurse Jane?”

“Ready? Ready for what?” she cried, as she sat down backwards in the dishpan full of soap bubbles, she was so excited.

“Why, ready to go to the country, of course,” replied the old gentleman rabbit. “We are going to spend a few days in the woods, and amid the green fields. I thought I told you about it. But perhaps I forgot it. However, no matter. Come, pack your trunk, and we will go off to the country in my airship.”

“My goodness me sakes alive, and some molasses lollypops!” cried Nurse Jane. “This is a great surprise to me!”

“Is it?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “Well, I am sorry I forgot to tell you about it. But never mind. Pack your trunk and mine, and we will start in the morning.”

Then such goings-on as there were in the hollow stump bungalow! Nurse Jane had so much to do to get ready that all Uncle Wiggily had for his supper was some of the hollow rings from the inside of the crullers, and a few of the holes in Swiss cheese, fried in marshmallow sauce.

“But I don’t mind,” the rabbit gentleman said. “We will have plenty to eat when we get to the country, Nurse Jane.”

“I hope so,” answered the muskrat lady, as she tied her tail up in curl papers to make it nice and frizzy for morning.

As soon as the sun had gotten up out of bed next day, and washed its face, Uncle Wiggily and Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy started off for the country in the clothes basket airship, with the red, white and blue toy circus balloons lifting it high above the tree tops.

They took with them a trunk and a satchel, containing their clothes, for they were to stay, perhaps, a week or more. And they also had their toothbrushes, for Uncle Wiggily was very particular about cleaning his teeth.

“Ah, there is the bungalow where we are to stay,” said the rabbit gentleman, as he sailed above a pretty place in the woods. “See it down there, Nurse Jane.”

He pointed to a little house made of bark. It was close to the edge of a little brook, and all about it grew ferns and bluebell flowers.

“Oh, what a lovely place!” cried Nurse Jane. “I know I shall like it there!”

Down went the airship as gently as a feather, and out jumped the muskrat lady and Uncle Wiggily.

“Now,” said Uncle Wiggily, as he tied his airship fast to a willow-whistle tree, so that it would not run away and play tag with the clouds; “now, Nurse Jane, I’ll cut you some wood to make a fire, and you can get dinner. Then we’ll take a walk in the forest.”

“Very well,” said the muskrat lady, and while Uncle Wiggily was gnawing the firewood into little sticks with his strong teeth, Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy opened the box of good things to eat, which they had brought with them in the airship.

“I guess I’ll just take a little hop through the woods, while you are getting dinner ready,” said Uncle Wiggily, after a bit. “I may find an adventure.”

“Very well,” spoke Nurse Jane, as she put on a pocket handkerchief apron so she would not spatter carrot juice on her shirtwaist.

Well, Uncle Wiggily had not gone very far before, all of a sudden, he heard Nurse Jane crying out:

“Help! Help! Help! Oh, Uncle Wiggily, come here quickly!”

“My goodness me, sakes alive and some cinnamon ice cream!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Nurse Jane must be in trouble.”

He gave three hops and a skip through the woods, and soon he was at the birch-bark bungalow, near the brook.

“What is the matter, Nurse Jane?” he asked, breathless like.

“Oh, I heard the most dreadful noise!” she said. “Listen!”

Then Uncle Wiggily heard:

“Baa! Baa! Baa!”

“Ha! Ha!” laughed the rabbit gentleman. “That is only a sheep singing. You will find plenty of them in the country, Nurse Jane.”

“Oh! Only a sheep,” said the muskrat lady. “I thought maybe it was an alligator. I am not afraid of a sheep.”

Then she went on getting dinner, and Uncle Wiggily went back in the woods, looking for an adventure, and, pretty soon he heard Nurse Jane cry again:

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Help! Help! Help! Come quickly!”

With three hops, and part of another one, the old rabbit gentleman was back at the birch-bark bungalow.

“What is the matter now?” he asked.

“Listen,” spoke Nurse Jane, just like a telephone girl.

Then Uncle Wiggily heard a noise that went:

“Gobble-obble-obble! Gobble-obble-obble!”

“What terrible creature is that?” asked Nurse Jane, shivering.

“Only a Thanksgiving turkey gobbler,” laughed the old gentleman rabbit. “They are always in the country. Don’t be afraid.”

He went back in the woods again, but pretty soon Nurse Jane cried once more.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Come here quickly.”

“I wonder what can be the matter this time?” thought the old rabbit gentleman, as he gave a hop, skip and a jump back. “What is it, Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy?” he asked, as he came to the birch-bark bungalow.

“Oh, we have no milk for dinner,” she said sorrowfully.

And, before Uncle Wiggily could answer, there echoed through the woods a sound like:

“Moo! Moo! Moo!”

“Oh, what dreadful creature is that?” asked Nurse Jane, wiggling her whiskers. “I am sure it must be a bear.”

“Ha!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “That is not a bear! It is our milk for dinner. That is the moo-cow. You will find lots of them in the country. You must not be so nervous, Nurse Jane.”

“I’ll try not to be,” she answered, “but it is some time since I have lived in the country. Where is the cow?”

Then along came a nice moo-cow with milk for Uncle Wiggily’s dinner, and the rabbit and Nurse Jane had a fine time in the country-woods bungalow, and they thanked the kind cow and Nurse Fuzzy Wuzzy said she would not be afraid of any more funny noises. But you just wait!

Now, in the next story, if the circus lemonade doesn’t jump over the elephant’s back, and color the clown’s white suit all over with pink stripes, like a stick of peppermint candy, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the moo-cow.

STORY XXX

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE MOO-COW

“Hey, Uncle Wiggily!” suddenly exclaimed Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy in the middle of the night.

“Yes, what is it?” asked the rabbit gentleman in a sleepy voice.

“Listen!” went on the muskrat lady.

So Uncle Wiggily listened, just as if a nice telephone girl had told him to do so. He and Nurse Jane were spending a few days in the country woods bungalow, as I told you in the story before this one. It was their first night, and, about twelve o’clock, the muskrat lady had all at once awakened the old gentleman rabbit by calling to him.

“Did you hear that?” asked Nurse Jane, after a bit.

Uncle Wiggily heard a sound that went something like: “Chir-r-r-r-r-p! Chir-r-r-r-r-p! Chir-r-r-r-r-p!”

“Do you hear that?” asked Nurse Jane in a whisper.

“Surely I hear it,” answered Uncle Wiggily.

“That is a bad old fox, sawing the bolt off the front door with a screw driver, so he can get in,” went on the muskrat lady.

“Nonsencicalness!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “It is only a black cricket. They always chirp that way, to make the country more cheerful. There are many crickets in the country. Go to sleep, Nurse Jane.”

So the muskrat lady went to sleep once more, rather sorry for having awakened Uncle Wiggily. But pretty soon, when it was almost morning, she called out again:

“Uncle Wiggily, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked the rabbit gentleman, in a sleepy voice.

“Some one outside the bungalow is calling about a little girl named Katy. Some one says she did do it, and some one else says she didn’t do it. I’m sure something dreadful must have happened. Listen!”

Uncle Wiggily listened. He heard: “Katy-did! Katy-did! Katy-didn’t! Katy-didn’t!”

“Hal Ha!” laughed the old rabbit gentleman. “That noise is made by a little green bug, called a ‘Katy-did.’ There are two of them; the other being called a ‘Katy-didn’t.’ And they are always disputing that way. Go to sleep, Nurse Jane. There are many Katy-dids and didn’ts in the country.”

“Then there isn’t any little girl Katy out in the woods?” asked the muskrat lady, curious like.

“No, indeed,” answered Uncle Wiggily.

So everything was all right until the sun got up out of bed again, and washed his face in the little pond near the birch bark bungalow where Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane were staying for a while.

All of a sudden there was a rustling in the bushes near the pond, and a voice cried:

“Moo! Moo! Moo!”

“Ha! I know what that is,” exclaimed Nurse Jane. “That is the Moo-Cow coming with milk for our breakfast.”

“Of course,” spoke the rabbit gentleman.

“Here I am!” said the cow in a cheerful voice, and after she had given Nurse Jane the morning milk, and the rabbit gentleman had had his breakfast, the Moo-Cow asked:

“Uncle Wiggily, what is that funny thing over there? It looks like a clothes basket, filled with sofa cushions, with an electric fan in back, and toy circus balloons and a Japanese umbrella on top. What is it?”

“That is my airship, if you please,” Uncle Wiggily replied, as he tied his long ears in a hard knot so they would not be in his way. “Perhaps you would like to take a ride with me, Moo-Cow.”

“I should like it, above all things!” answered the Moo-Cow.

“Come then, and I will take you—above all things!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “We will go even up above the church steeples.”

“But don’t fall on any of them, for they are very sharp,” said Nurse Jane. “They are even sharper than the horns of the Moo-Cow.”

“We’ll be careful,” promised Uncle Wiggily.

So he and the Moo-Cow took their places in the clothes basket of the airship. Uncle Wiggily blew up the balloons with hot air, and then, starting the electric fan, that went around whizzie-izzie, off they sailed over the tree-tops.

“Ha! This is fine!” cried the Moo-Cow.

“Were you never airshipping before?” inquired Uncle Wiggily, politely.

“Never,” answered the Moo-Cow, as she carefully braided the tufted end of her tail, so it would not tickle Uncle Wiggily. “It is very kind of you to ask me for a ride,” she went on.

“Pray do not mention such a little thing as that,” spoke the rabbit gentleman still more politely. “I am glad you like it.”

Well, Uncle Wiggily and the Moo-Cow rode on and on in the airship, and Mr. Longears was afraid he was not going to have an adventure that day, when, all of a sudden there came a strong puff of wind. It blew the red, white and blue toy balloons down upon the sharp points of the Moo-Cow’s horns, and, all at once, there was a hiss, like that of a radiator on a cold day, and all the air rushed out of the balloons, leaving them flat like cocoanut cakes. Down went the airship; down—down!

“Oh, we are falling!” cried the Moo-Cow. “I am going to jump over the moon! That is the only way I can save myself!”

“Stop! Sit still!” cried Uncle Wiggily like a policeman life-saver dog at Asbury Park. “Do not jump over the moon, or anywhere else.”

“But we are falling down!” cried the cow. “We shall be hurt when we hit the ground. I must jump before it is too late.”

“Stay right in!” said Uncle Wiggily, as he steered the falling airship out of the way of a church steeple. “The soft sofa cushions, filled with Wibblewobble duck feathers, will not let us be hurt. We will fall on them!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Don’t be in the least afraid. We shall fall on the cushions!”

And, surely enough they did. Down they came on the hard ground, but with the sofa cushions under them it was like falling on a feather bed, so neither the rabbit gentleman nor the Moo-Cow was hurt in the least. The cow was sorry her sharp horns had burst the balloons, but Uncle Wiggily politely said that did not in the least matter.

“I can easily mend them again,” he declared. “And maybe I shall have another adventure to-morrow.”

He did, and what it was I shall have the pleasure of telling you in the next story—that is if the lawn mower doesn’t run out in the street and cut the wheels off the automobile so the rag doll has to ride in the express wagon. The story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the sheep.

STORY XXXI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SHEEP

Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, was sweeping and dusting the birch-bark bungalow, in the country woods, where she and Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, were spending a few days’ vacation.

“It is very nice here,” thought Nurse Jane, as she put some flowers in the dishpan to make the kitchen table look decorated. “I am glad we came.”

And she looked out of the window to see what Mr. Longears was doing. He was pumping some hot air into the red, white and blue circus balloons of his airship. He had mended them after the Moo-Cow’s horns had accidentally punctured holes in them, as I told you last night, if you will kindly remember.

“Well, I guess Uncle Wiggily is going for a ride,” said Nurse Jane. “I must ask him to stop at the store for a pound of sugar.”

And then the muskrat lady began singing:

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir! Yes, sir!
Three bags full.

One for the master,
One for the man,
And one for the little boy
Who lives in the lane.

“Ha! Are you singing about me?” asked a voice near a Jack-in-the-pulpit flower which grew at the side porch of the bungalow. “Are you singing about me, Nurse Jane?”

“Why, I suppose I was, if you are Baa-Baa Black Sheep,” replied the muskrat lady, while she polished the potatoes for dinner.

“Well, I am a white sheep, but my name is Baa-Baa, just the same,” went on the voice, and around the corner came the same sheep that had accidentally frightened Nurse Jane the first night she and Uncle Wiggily had come to the bungalow.

“Oh, how do you do?” asked Nurse Jane, for she was not frightened any more, since she knew the sheep was a kind one.

“I am very well,” replied the sheep. “And I have brought you some butter, made from yellow buttercup flowers,” and with that the kind sheep took, from where it was tied to his horns, a nice package of sweet butter, wrapped in cool, green leaves. “My wife made it,” said the sheep. “She is a very good butter maker.”

“Oh, that is very kind of her, I am sure. Thank you!” exclaimed Nurse Jane. “Uncle Wiggily,” she called, “see what Mr. Baa-Baa has brought us—some lovely butter.”

“Well, I’m sure that is very nice,” spoke the rabbit gentleman, as he finished making his airship ready for a trip. “Would you like to come for a ride with me, Baa-Baa?” asked the rabbit gentleman.

“I would if I could be sure we would not fall,” said the sheep gentleman.

“Well, even if we do fall we will not get hurt,” Uncle Wiggily answered. “The Moo-Cow and I fell yesterday, but the soft sofa cushions in the clothes basket kept us from getting hurt. However, I do not believe we will fall. You see your horns are nicely rounded and curved and are not sharp like the Moo-Cow’s, though really she did not mean to poke holes in my balloons with them as she did. So, perhaps, you would like to come airshipping with me.”

“I think I would,” the sheep gentleman replied, scratching his ear with his left foot.

“Come along then,” invited the rabbit gentleman, as he led the way to his airship.

“Oh, wait!” cried Nurse Jane. “I wish you would bring home some sugar Wiggy, and also take these scissors. They are dull and need sharpening. Have the grinder man fix them.”

“I will,” promised Uncle Wiggily. Then he and the sheep got into the clothes basket of the airship, sat down on the soft sofa cushions filled with the Wibblewobble duck feathers and away they sailed above the tree tops.

“Oh, this is fine,” cried Mr. Baa-Baa, as he looked down at the earth below. “I just love this airshipping!”

“I thought you would,” Uncle Wiggily said. “But there is the sugar store just below us and also the scissor-grinder man. We will go down.”

Down they went, landing as gently as a feather, for the toy circus balloons were all right now. Uncle Wiggily bought the sugar, had Nurse Jane’s scissors sharpened, and then he and the sheep started off again, sailing above the tree-tops.

They had not gone very far before all of a sudden it began to get dark.

“My! Is it going to be night so soon?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“No, but I think there is going to be a thunder storm,” said Mr. Baa-Baa. “See the clouds are over the sun. That is what makes it dark. Yes, we are going to have a storm!”

And, surely enough, in a little while, it began to lighten and thunder, and then it began to rain. Oh! So hard.

Then it got very cold, and it began to hail, though it was summer time. Down came the big, round, frozen hail stones, pattering on the Japanese umbrella of the airship.