UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SCOOTER
One day, when Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, came
home to his hollow stump bungalow, having been over to call on Grandpa
Goosey Gander, Mr. Longears saw Baby Bunty sitting on the front steps
looking very sad and sorrowful.
“What’s the matter?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “Did you lose your grape vine
skipping rope, Baby Bunty?”
“Oh, no,” answered the little rabbit girl. “My rope is all right, and I
can jump salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard and even rice pudding. But I
want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily! I want a scooter very much!”
“A scooter!” cried the bunny rabbit gentleman, in surprise. “What is
that? Something new to jump rope with?”
“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty with a smile. “A scooter is a little
two-wheeler roller skate wagon. It has wheels on it, and a place for you
to stand with your feet and a place to hold on by your paws. You get on
the scooter, give yourself a little push, and away you scoot as fast as
anything! I want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily. All the other animal boys and
girls have ’em!”
“Then you shall have one, too!” cried Mr. Longears. “Come on, Baby
Bunty, we’ll go down to the fifteen and sixteen cent store and get you a
scooter!”
“Oh, joy!” said Baby Bunty, clapping her paws, and trying to make her
pink nose twinkle like Uncle Wiggily’s. But she didn’t do it very well,
being so small.
A little later the rabbit gentleman and the little girl, who had been
found in a hollow stump, were on their way through the woods to the
fifteen and sixteen cent barn where they sold scooters.
“Give me the best one you have for Baby Bunty,” ordered Uncle Wiggily,
and it was given him.
“Oh, may I ride home on it?” asked Baby Bunty, when they were on the
smooth woodland path once more.
“Why, yes, if you know how,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, all you have to do with a scooter,” spoke Baby Bunty, “is to get on
with your hind paws, hold fast to the handle with your front paws, give
yourself a push and away you scoot!”
“Let me see you try it,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Maybe you’d better go first,” said Baby Bunty.
“Oh, no, indeed!” laughed her uncle. “I’m too old and stiff, and my
rheumatism makes me feel too funny to ride on a scooter. Go ahead, Baby
Bunty.”
Baby Bunty got on the foot-part of the scooter. She held tightly with
her front paws, and gave herself a push with one hind paw. Along went
the scooter, but alas! Likewise a-lack-a-day! Baby Bunty must have
steered the wrong way, for bunk! into a tree she ran.
“Oh, did you hurt yourself?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he ran to help her.
“Oh, no!” laughed the little rabbit girl. “It’s fun when I get so I know
how to do it!”
Off she started once more, but this time she ran into a stump and bunked
her nose.
“Are you hurt?” asked Uncle Wiggily.
“No—no,” said Bunty bravely. “But I must be more careful.”
The next time she steered very straight, but she sent the scooter right
into a mud puddle and the mud splashed on Uncle Wiggily’s tall silk hat.
But, as the hat was black, the mud spots do not show very plainly.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty. “I don’t believe I’ll ever learn how to
ride my scooter. I should have bought roller skates. Don’t you want to
ride and show me how, Uncle Wiggily?”
“Dear me!” said the rabbit gentleman, unpretentious like. “Do you think,
at my age, I could?”
“Of course!” said Baby Bunty.
“I am lame and stiff and have the rheumatism,” said Uncle Wiggily, “but
I’ll try anything once. Let me see that scooter, Bunty!”
Uncle Wiggily got on with his hind paws. He took hold with his front
paws and he gave himself a push. And, just as it would happen, the
scooter was then at the top of a hill. Down this hill went the funny
little two-wheeled wagon, with Uncle Wiggily on it.
“Stop! Oh, stop!” begged Mr. Longears, as he saw what was before him. “I
didn’t know this was down hill! Stop!”
But it was too late to stop! Down he went, faster and faster. And the
scooter traveled so quickly that it rolled straight along and didn’t go
from side to side, or bunk into anything.
“Oh, how wonderfully well Uncle Wiggily rides!” said Baby Bunty at the
top of the hill, as she began to hop down.
And just then, at the bottom of the hill, the scooter, with Uncle
Wiggily on it, struck a stump. Up in the air went the rabbit gentleman,
and down he came with a thump. But he landed on a bed of soft moss and
wasn’t hurt a bit. The scooter came down with a bump beside him. Uncle
Wiggily looked around, dazed like. Baby Bunty came hopping down the
hill.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried. “That was wonderful! But I didn’t know
that was the way to get off a scooter.”
“It isn’t,” said Mr. Longears. “And don’t you try that way, either. But
I enjoyed my ride. I’m not as stiff as I was, but I may be more so
tomorrow. Now I’ll give you some lessons, Baby Bunty.”
The little rabbit girl soon learned to ride her scooter, but not down
hill, and she had lots of fun. And if the clock doesn’t strike the
dinner bell and make the gas stove think it’s time for supper before
breakfast, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the flowers.
STORY XVII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FLOWERS
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping through
the woods one day, wondering what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy would have for
his dinner in the hollow stump bungalow, when, suddenly, Mr. Longears
heard some one call:
“Uncle Wiggily! Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Oh, wait for me!”
Quickly the rabbit gentleman turned around, and lowered his long ears,
so they would not stick up over the tops of the bushes.
“I am not sure, as yet, whether I want to wait for whoever this is, or
not,” said Uncle Wiggily, cautious like and reserved. “If it’s the
Pipsisewah, or the Skuddlemagoon, I certainly don’t want them to see me,
or the see the souse on my ears.”
Again the voice cried:
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Where are you. I saw you a moment ago,
but now I can’t see you! Please wait for mee!”
“Why, that’s Baby Bunty!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, with a joyful twinkle
of his pink nose. “My dear little baby rabbit, who was found in a stump!
Of course I’ll wait for her.”
Then Uncle Wiggily let his ears flop up, so they could be seen over the
bushes, and the little rabbit girl cried:
“Oh, now I can see you! Wait a minute and I’ll hop to where you are.”
Uncle Wiggily sat on a stump and waited. Pretty soon Baby Bunty came
hopping along the woodland path.
“My goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut butter cakes!” cried the
rabbit gentleman. “What is that yellow stuff on your paws, Baby Bunty?”
“Those are yellow flowers,” said Baby Bunty. “I picked both my paws full
of them, and I’m going to give them to Nurse Jane.”
“Yellow flowers, eh?” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “Oh, so they are!” he went
on, as he brushed some cobwebs off his glasses. “It is very kind of you
to gather them for Nurse Jane.”
“I’m glad you think so,” spoke Baby Bunty. “Have a smell, Uncle
Wiggily!” and she held her bouquet of yellow blossoms under the pink,
twinkling nose of Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, Baby Bunty, don’t!” begged Uncle Wiggily, drawing back. “Oh, dear
me! A-ker-choo. Ker-snitzio! Bushwah! Bur-r-r-r!” and he sneezed
eleven-sixteen times.
“Oh! Are you catching cold, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty.
“No,” answered the old rabbit gentleman. “It’s just the flowers. They
have some yellow dust on them, and the petals are so ticklish that, when
they touched my nose, they made me sneeze. I like your flowers, Baby
Bunty, and so will Nurse Jane, but please don’t hold them so close to my
nose again.”
“I won’t,” promised the little rabbit girl. “Now we’ll have a nice game
of tag! Come on, chase me!” and away she hopped through the woods.
“Hi, there! Come back!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Don’t run so fast, Baby
Bunty! You may get lost or the Pipsisewah may catch you. Come back!”
“No, you chase me! Come on, tag me!” cried Baby Bunty.
“Oh, dear, I suppose I’ll have to,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, with a sort of
sighing groan. “But I’m so old and stiff-like——”
But still he felt he must hop on to see that no harm came to Baby Bunty.
And that little rabbit girl certainly led the old gentleman rabbit a
long chase.
On through the woods hopped Baby Bunty, carrying her yellow flowers, and
after her hopped Uncle Wiggily. All of a sudden Mr. Longears, looking
ahead, saw the bad old Pipsisewah jump out from behind a stump, and make
a grab for Baby Bunty!
“Oh, dear me, and some fire engine rice pudding!” cried Uncle Wiggily.
“I should have run faster after Baby Bunty to save her from the
Pipsisewah. Yet, even if I were there, what could I do? And what can she
do? Oh, this is too bad!”
Then, as he watched, he suddenly saw brave Baby Bunty thrust her bouquet
of yellow flowers into the very face of the Pipsisewah. Right under his
nose the little rabbit girl held the fuzzy blossoms, and then the Pip
quickly turned a backward somersault and a forward peppersault and he
went:
“Ker-choo! A-ker-choo-choo! Kersnooziozoozium!”
And he sneezed so hard that he sneezed himself away up over the trees,
and far enough off so he couldn’t hurt Uncle Wiggily or Baby Bunty.
“Well, that’s the time the fuzzy, sneezy flowers came in useful!” said
Uncle Wiggily.
Then he hopped up to Baby Bunty and found her smiling.
“Now do you like my flowers?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Uncle Wiggily, “I do. And I’ll carry one of the bouquets
for you.” But he was careful to hold it away from his pink, twinkling
nose, as he didn’t want to sneeze as hard as the Pipsisewah had done.
So, everything came out all right, and if the fried egg doesn’t go to
sleep on the sofa cushion and make the rocking chair think it’s a yellow
rose, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the white birch.
STORY XVIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE WHITE BIRCH
“Where is Baby Bunty this morning?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the
bunny rabbit gentleman, as he came downstairs to a rather late breakfast
in his hollow stump bungalow.
“Do you want her to make you chase her, and play tag, or gather more
yellow flowers to give the Pipsisewah a sneeze?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy
Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she poured some carrot gravy
over Uncle Wiggily’s lettuce pancakes.
“Oh, indeed, I don’t want Baby Bunty for anything like that,” spoke Mr.
Longears. “I was just thinking, if she were off playing somewhere, I
could rest and not have to hop about like a jumping Jack walking a tight
rope.”
“Oh, Baby Bunty is good for you!” laughed Nurse Jane. “Still, you
needn’t worry now. She is out of the way. She has gone over to play with
Beckie Stubtail, the little girl bear, and she is going to stay to
supper. Baby Bunty doesn’t want to come home until after dark, and she
told me to ask you to go after her.”
“I will,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Hurray! Much as I love Baby Bunty, I like
to be quiet, sometimes. Now I can eat my breakfast and have a little
sleep.”
So Uncle Wiggily did. In the afternoon he took a hop through the woods
and had a little adventure with a frog lady. She was Mrs. No-Tail, the
mother of Bully and Bawly, and Mrs. No-Tail fell into a pile of dry
dust. Being fond of water, she didn’t like being dry, but she might
never have gotten out of the dust if Uncle Wiggily had not helped her.
Then, after supper, Mr. Longears said to Nurse Jane:
“Now I will go over to Beckie Stubtail’s house and get Baby Bunty. She
won’t be afraid to come home through the dark woods if I am with her.”
“No,” spoke Nurse Jane, “I hardly believe she will. But be very careful
coming through the dark woods, Uncle Wiggily. The Pipsisewah may be
hiding there waiting for you.”
“I’ll be careful!” promised the bunny rabbit. “But is there any favor I
could do for you when I go to bring home Baby Bunty?”
“Yes,” replied Nurse Jane, “there is. If you have time, after you stop
at the Stubtail house for our little rabbit girl, I wish you’d step over
to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s, the duck lady. She has a bag of sugar for me.
It’s three pounds she is giving me back for some she borrowed of me to
make cornmeal cakes.”
“I’ll stop at Mrs. Wibblewobble’s and get the sugar, and also bring Baby
Bunty home,” said Uncle Wiggily.
Then he hopped off through the woods. It was getting dark, but Uncle
Wiggily didn’t care about that. Baby Bunty might, but he never would.
Soon the rabbit gentleman was at the home of Beckie Stubtail, the little
bear girl. As he drew near he heard merry shouts and laughter.
“The children are having a good time,” thought Uncle Wiggily, and so
they were. When they knew he was there, Baby Bunty wanted him to come in
and play some games. But Mr. Longears said:
“No, Baby Bunty! It is getting late, and I have to stop at Mrs.
Wibblewobble’s to get the sugar for Nurse Jane. You may come over again
some other time.”
So, Baby Bunty said good night to Beckie Stubtail, and then the little
rabbit girl and Uncle Wiggily started back through the dark woods.
“Aren’t you afraid?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Not a bit!” laughed Mr. Longears. He noticed that Bunty hopped close to
his side, and did not run on ahead and want him to chase her, as she
often did.
It did not take Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty long to get to the duck
house, and there Mrs. Wibblewobble had the sugar wrapped up in a paper
bag for them. Then, once more, Mr. Longears and Bunty started through
the dark woods.
“Oh, what’s that?” suddenly asked the little rabbit girl, stopping and
pointing ahead.
“Nothing but an old stump,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Come on!” They went
along a little farther, and Baby Bunty all of a sudden cried:
“Oh, look! There’s a giant!”
“Nonsense!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “That’s only a big rock that looks
like a giant. Hop along!”
They hopped along a little farther, and, all at once, Baby Bunty gave a
backward jump, bunked into Uncle Wiggily so hard that she burst the
paper bag, letting the sugar spill out, and she cried:
“Oh, what’s that big, tall, white thing waving its arms at us on the
path? Oh, Uncle Wiggily! What is it? What is it?”
Baby Bunty snuggled close up against the rabbit gentleman. Uncle Wiggily
looked once, he looked twice and he looked three times at the white
thing. Truly it did seem to be waving its arms in the dark. Then Uncle
Wiggily laughed.
“Why, that is only a white birch-bark tree, Baby Bunty,” he said. “You
mustn’t be afraid of a white birch tree. And I’m glad we came to this
one. With some of the loose bark I can make a new bag for the sugar. And
I’ll be glad to do it, for the sugar is running down my leg and it
tickles like sand at the seashore.”
So Uncle Wiggily made a bag from the white birch bark, put the sugar in
it, and he and Baby Bunty were soon safe in the hollow stump bungalow.
And if the cough drop doesn’t fall off toadstool and tickle rice pudding
under the chin when they’re in the moving pictures, I’ll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and the little pond.
STORY XIX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LITTLE POND
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping along
through Woodland near the Orange Ice Mountains, not far from Asbury
Grove, where he had built his hollow stump bungalow. Mr. Longears was
looking first on one side of the path and then on the other with his
pink, twinkling nose.
I mean Uncle Wiggily had his pink nose with him; I don’t mean he was
looking with it. Gracious, no! He looked with his eyes.
“Hello, Uncle Wiggily! Are you looking for an adventure?” asked Johnnie
Bushytail, the squirrel boy, as he scampered up a hickory tree to see if
any nuts were growing yet. But it was too early.
“No, I’m not exactly looking for an adventure,” spoke the bunny
gentleman. “I want to find Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl who used
to live in a hollow stump.”
“Do you want her to chase you and play tag?” asked Johnnie.
“Indeed, I do not!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Baby Bunty is too lively for
me! She says she makes me chase her so I won’t get old and stiff. But
it’s fun to be sort of restful like once in a while. Now I’m looking for
Baby Bunty because Nurse Jane wants her to come and have her paws and
face washed for supper. Have you seen her?”
“Do you mean Nurse Jane or Baby Bunty?” asked the squirrel boy, sort of
joking like and comical.
“Baby Bunty, of course!” answered Uncle Wiggily. “I know where Nurse
Jane is. She’s baking a strawberry long-cake in my hollow stump
bungalow. But if you haven’t seen Baby Bunty I must hop along and look
in other places.”
So Uncle Wiggily hopped along, and pretty soon he came to the shore of a
large pond. On one bank of the pond were growing a number of tall
plants, with thick, green leaves.
“Ha! Those are nice plants,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Perhaps they may have
seen Baby Bunty pass this way.”
So, understanding the language of flowers, which is about the same as
that which is talked by the leaves and vines, Uncle Wiggily asked the
green plants if they had seen the little rabbit girl.
“No,” answered one large plant, “we haven’t seen Baby Bunty. We have
been so busy trying to shake off a lot of bad, red, biting bugs, on our
stalks and leaves, that we haven’t had a chance to look for any one. We
wish we could drive the bugs away.”
“I can do that,” kindly offered Uncle Wiggily. “I will drive away the
red bugs that are biting your thick, green, glossy leaves. I’ll knock
them off with my red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch.”
“Please do!” begged the plants growing on the edge of the big pond.
So Uncle Wiggily drove away the biting bugs by tapping on the green,
thick-leaved plants with his crutch, and the plants thanked the rabbit
gentleman very much.
“If we can ever do you or any of your friends a favor we shall be glad
to,” they said.
Uncle Wiggily hardly thought a plant could ever do you a favor, but just
you wait and see. On and on through the woods hopped the rabbit
gentleman, until pretty soon he came to a cute little shady dingly dell,
and there was Baby Bunty lying on the grass fast asleep. In one paw was
her wooden doll—Sarah Jane Sassafras Ricepudding.
“Oh, Bunty! Wake up!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Nurse Jane wants you to come
home! It’s nearly supper time!”
Baby Bunty awakened with a start, rubbed her eyes, and then, holding her
doll, Matilda Arabella Flapdoodle, in one paw, the little rabbit girl
took hold of Uncle Wiggily’s coat tail and back to the hollow stump
bungalow they started.
They had not gone very far, and they were hopping toward the big pond of
water, when, all of a sudden, out from behind a stump popped the bad old
Skuddlemagoon.
“Oh, ho! Now I have you!” cried the Skuddlemagoon.
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty ran as fast as they could. So did the
Skuddlemagoon. Pretty soon Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty came to the big
pond.
“Oh, if only this pond were little now,” sighed Uncle Wiggily, “we could
jump across it.”
“What good would that do?” asked Baby Bunty.
“Why, once on the other side, we would be safe from the Skuddlemagoon,”
answered Uncle Wiggily. “The policeman dog lives on the other side of
this pond. But, as it is now, it is too big for us to jump across, and
if we have to run all the way around it the bad chap may catch us.”
And then, just as true as I’m telling you, all of a sudden the big pond
began to shrink up. It shut its banks close together and became so
little that Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty could easily jump across
without getting wet.
All the way across the pond they jumped, and, when they were safe on the
other side, the little pond suddenly stretched into a big one again and
it was so large that the Skuddlemagoon couldn’t jump over.
“Oh, we’re safe, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Bunty. “We’re safe! But what made
the big pond get little and then grow big again?”
“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Longears.
Then some voices spoke: “We made the big pond get little for you,” said
the green stalks and leaves on the bank. “We shrank and also stretched
the pond for you. We are rubber plants, you know, and rubber can stretch
and shrink.”
That’s just how it happened. Weren’t those stretchy rubber plants good
to Baby Bunty and Mr. Longears? And if the bluebell flower doesn’t ring
so late in the morning that the alarm clock gets late for school, and
can’t have any sawdust candy for recess, I’ll tell you next about Uncle
Wiggily and the funny stump.
STORY XX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FUNNY STUMP
“Good-by, Uncle Wiggily! Good-by!” called Baby Bunty to Mr. Longears,
the rabbit gentleman, one morning, as he stood on the front porch of his
hollow stump bungalow.
“What’s that? ‘Good-by?’ Why, you aren’t going to leave me; are you?”
cried Uncle Wiggily. “Are you going to leave me after I found you in the
woods, and took care of you and—and all that!”
“Oh, but you say I make you chase me and play tag, and that I won’t let
you sit around and get stiff and old and all the like of that! I’d
better go away,” and really it looked as though Baby Bunty were going
away, for she had a little bundle in one paw.
“Oh, don’t go away!” begged Uncle Wiggily. “I don’t mind chasing you,
and I was only fooling about you making me get old and stiff.”
“And I was only fooling about going away!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I’m only
going to take my painting lesson from Mother Nature. She knows how to
color the flowers red, blue and golden, and she is giving me painting
lessons. My paints are in this bundle. When I finish learning how to
make a blue sky turn pink I’ll come back to you.”
“Please do!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I shall miss you.”
“Then, in an hour or so, if you walk through the woods you may meet me
coming home from my painting lesson,” spoke Bunty.
“I will!” promised Uncle Wiggily. Then Baby Bunty hopped on with her box
of colors, and Mr. Longears went to see Grandfather Goosey Gander.
“What do you s’pose Baby Bunty can paint?” asked Grandpa Goosey, when
Uncle Wiggily had told about the little rabbit girl learning how to make
a green leaf look red.
“I don’t know what she can paint, but she is a smart little thing,” said
Mr. Longears. “It would be hard to find her equal if you hopped or
waddled for one whole day and part of another.”
“I believe you!” quacked Grandpa Goosey Gander.
Pretty soon it was time for Uncle Wiggily to start hopping along the
woodland path to meet Baby Bunty, for soon she would be leaving Mother
Nature’s studio, where the little rabbit girl took her lessons.
“I must get Baby Bunty to give my red, white and blue striped barber
pole rheumatism crutch a new coat of paint,” thought Uncle Wiggily, as
he hopped along. “And I wonder just where I shall meet her!”
All of a sudden he heard a joyful sound.
“Hi, there, Uncle Wiggily! Here I am! Whoop-de-doodle-woodle!” and along
hopped Baby Bunty. There was a smudge of red paint on one ear, a dab of
blue paint on her left paw and a dribble of yellow paint on her hair
ribbon.
“I’ve been having my painting lessons,” she said to Uncle Wiggily.
“I see you have!” he agreed, with a laugh. “Well, we’ll hop home now,
and see what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy has for supper.”
Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty were hopping along, when, all of a sudden,
out from under a pile of dried grass jumped the bad old Magoosielum. The
Magoosielum is worse than either the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon.
“Ah, ah! I’m in luck today!” cried the Magoosielum. “A rabbit gentleman
and a rabbit girl! Let me see, whose souse shall I eat first? I guess
I’ll take yours, Uncle Wiggily.”
With that the Magoosielum let go of Baby Bunty, well knowing she would
not run away without Uncle Wiggily. Then the Magoosielum began looking
at the rabbit gentleman’s ears to see where the best place would be to
begin eating souse. For that is what souse is—pickled ears of nice
rabbits.
“Well, I’ll take some left ear souse first,” said the Magoosielum, and
he was just starting to do this, and Uncle Wiggily didn’t know what to
do. The rabbit gentleman saw Baby Bunty open her paint box.
“That will not help any,” sadly thought Uncle Wiggily. “The only thing
that will drive away a Magoosielum is pineapple cheese, and Baby Bunty
has none of that.”
Then the bad animal stood in front of Uncle Wiggily picking out a good
place to begin nibbling the souse, so Mr. Longears couldn’t see what
Bunty was doing with the paint box. All he could see was that she was
near a funny, old, gnarled and fire-blackened stump.
But, all of a sudden, Baby Bunty cried:
“Look out now, you bad old Magoosielum. Look out, or my friend, the
Snippy-Snappy, will get you!”
And, as true as I’m telling you, there stood what seemed to be a little,
short, squatty animal, with a big red mouth, a green nose, one yellow
eye and one pink eye, one brown cheek and one purple one, and his teeth.
Oh, his teeth were all sorts of colors, some even being Skilligimink
shade!