Transcriber’s Note
Italic text displayed as: _italic_
LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S
BIG BLUE BOOK
[Illustration:
_If thru the air on radio wing
I’ve made a little child’s heart sing
I count it much as one who hears
The lovely music of the spheres._
_Yours for a Story
David Cory
The Jack Rabbit Man_
]
LITTLE JACK RABBITS
BIG BLUE BOOK
BY DAVID CORY
[Illustration: Rabbit house]
_Home again, home again,
Thru the sunshine or the rain!
Tis the dearest place to stay
After you have played all day_
PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED WITH
FULL PAGE COLORED AND
BLACK & WHITE PICTURES
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS · NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
TO THE GROWN-UPS
Come with me, the little latch
Hangs outside the Bramble Patch.
You will find within this book,
If you will but take a look,
All the happy, care-free ways
Of your golden childhood days.
In the Kingdom of Little Animals every child is at home. That a dog
can talk to his friends, that a rabbit may wear knickers or a little
bird climb up a tiny stair inside a hollow tree trunk seem quite
natural.
Every child is willing to take my hand and step over the border into
Rabbit Country.
Come, you older ones, turn back the clock. Don’t you long for a
moment to be once more in Make-Believe Land? Surely you will if you
read the Little Jack Rabbit Books. You again will see yourself in the
wistful eyes of the youngster at your knee as he listens to
Yours for a story,
DAVID CORY,
The Jack Rabbit Man.
LIST OF BUNNY TALES
TALE PAGE
1. THE WEDDING 1
2. HUNGRY HAWK 11
3. THE LOLLYPOP TREE 21
4. UNCLE LUCKY 30
5. THE RADIO ALARM 42
6. MR. WICKED WOLF 52
7. TIMMIE MEADOWMOUSE 64
8. INVITATIONS 71
9. THE CIRCUS 83
10. THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT 97
11. THE LITTLE MOUNTAIN GOAT 104
12. THE RESCUE 114
13. DANNY FOX 122
14. UNCLE LUCKY’S DREAM 132
15. THE RADIO STORY 142
16. DANGER 149
17. TROUBLE 158
18. OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL 168
19. LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS 175
20. VALENTINES 184
21. PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 191
22. “EVERYBODY INN” 198
23. THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT 213
24. GRANDDADDY BULLFROG 225
25. LUCKYMOBILING 233
26. THE RACE 244
27. THE OLD BROWN HORSE 250
28. THE VISIT 259
29. THE MESSENGER 269
LIST OF PICTURES
UNCLE DAVE CORY _Frontispiece_
PAGE
“IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR THE WEDDING” 6
“HE’S OVER AT THE BARNYARD, TALKING TO OLD SIC’EM” 13
“THAT’S A GOOD LAD,” LAUGHED BIG BROWN BEAR 22
“S.O.S. PLEASE COME QUICK!” 33
“DON’T YOU BOTHER ME, YOU OLD RASCAL” 40
“NOW I’LL GET YOU,” SNARLED DANNY FOX 46
NICE CARROT PORRIDGE 53
“I GAVE HIM A SHOCK OF ELECTRICITY” 62
“HELLO,” EXCLAIMED THE FARMER’S BOY 70
“HEARD THE NEWS?” ASKED THE OLD BROWN HORSE 72
“WELL, I GUESS YES THREE TIMES!” 78
“SOME DAY YOU’LL GROW TO BE A BIG CLOWN” 91
“THE TRAINED BEAR HAD BEGUN TO ROLLER SKATE” 93
THE LITTLE BUNNY HANDING A ROSE TO LADY LOVE 98
JUST THEN DOWN SWOOPED HUNGRY HAWK 102
A TINY LIGHT APPEARED IN THE DISTANCE 111
“WHAT’S THAT?” ASKED LADY LOVE 118
“I WON’T HOP OUT TILL DANNY FOX GOES HOME” 125
“I DON’T WANT TO SPEAK TO HIM” 133
DANNY FOX IN THE PATROL WAGON 137
“THIS IS STATION A.B.C.” 142
“MY, BUT IT’S GROWING COLD!” 149
“THROW UP YOUR PAWS!” SHOUTED DANNY FOX 163
OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL GRABBED UP THE LITTLE RABBIT 171
THE OLD FEATHERED ROBBER PEEPED DOWN 174
“GOODNESS ME, THIS IS A DULL SAW!” 179
“I MUST GET BACK BEFORE SUPPER” 188
“I’LL SOON BE OUT AT THE OLD BRAMBLE PATCH” 190
“PLEASE DON’T WIGGLE!” 201
“GIVE ME A PEANUT!” 204
“OH, SHE DID, DID SHE?” 216
“FIGHTING IT OUT BETWEEN THEM” 224
“TO BE SURE I WILL,” ANSWERED THE OLD FROG 230
REDDY COMB, THE ROOSTER NEWSBOY 234
“I’LL TELL YOU,” SAID PROFESSOR CROW 240
“YOU’RE A PRETTY GOOD JUMPER YOURSELF” 246
“NOW’S MY CHANCE,” THOUGHT DANNY FOX 253
“LAY YOUR HEAD IN THE BOAT,” CRIED THE BILLY GOAT 257
“ONCE UPON A TIME,” SHE BEGAN 262
THE KNAPSACK BURST OPEN 263
“I FEEL ONLY TWENTY-ONE” 264
“TWICE TO THE LEFT, THREE TO THE RIGHT!” 272
“THANK YOU, MA’AM,” HE SAID 275
“In the Spring,
The blue birds sing
And skies of blue
Smile down on you”
_Sings_—
Little Jack
Rabbit to
himself in the
mirror.
[Illustration: Rabbit looking at a mirror]
IN THE BIG BLUE BOOK
LITTLE JACK RABBIT
WEARS A BLUE NECKTIE.
LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S
BIG BLUE BOOK
BUNNY TALE 1
THE WEDDING
Was some one knocking on the door of Uncle Lucky’s little white house
on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot St., Rabbitville, U.S.A.?
Well, I guess yes, three times. Maybe somebody has been knocking
ever since Bobbie Redvest told me that a bad attack of rheumatism
prevents the dear old gentleman rabbit from hearing unpleasant news.
Well, anyway, when Uncle Lucky opened the door who do you think was
standing on the mat? You’d never guess, not even if I told you he
wore rubber boots and held a green umbrella in his hand.
It was Daddy Longlegs—yes, sir, that’s who it was.
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, “are
you wet?”
“Soaked to the skin,” replied the shivering, rubber-booted,
long-legged insect. “Let me sit by the kitchen stove and warm myself.
Maybe I’ll get dry in an hour or so.”
“Come right in!” cried dear, kind Uncle Lucky, leading the way into
the kitchen where little Miss Mousie, the dear old gentleman rabbit’s
tiny housekeeper, was drying the breakfast dishes.
“O sunny days, so sweet and warm,
I miss you very much.
I only hope the rheumatiz
My little toe won’t touch!”
sang Uncle Lucky, helping Daddy Longlegs pull off his rubber boots.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman insect, stretching out his cold,
damp toes:
“I love the cheerful kitchen fire,
And though it is so kind
To warm my frozen tippy toes,
I’m always cold behind.”
“Turn around once in a while,” replied Uncle Lucky, “that’s what I
do!”
“Don’t set your coat tails on fire,” advised Little Miss Mousie, as
she nibbled a piece of angel cake.
Pretty soon, the Old Red Rooster came in with the _Bunnybridge
Bugle_, the nice morning paper that dear Uncle Lucky loves to read
when breakfast is over.
Taking out a cabbage leaf cigar, he slipped his feet into his
comfortable woolen slippers and, placing his gold-rimmed spectacles
on his nose, sat down in his big arm chair.
Pitter, patter, went the rain
On the misty window pane;
While the fire’s cheerful glow
Warmed his poor rheumatic toe.
By this time Daddy Longlegs was nice and dry, so he, too, sat down to
read by the fire, and Little Miss Mousie, seeing that nobody wished
to talk, scampered back to her little house in the corner of the
sitting room. As for the Old Red Rooster, he hurried out to the barn
to mend the old wheelbarrow.
Pitter, patter, sings the rain
In a drowsy, soft refrain.
Ticker, tacker, on the leaves,
Dripping, dripping, from the eaves.
Tinkle, tinkle, on the pane,
Rings the wind-blown summer rain.
Pretty soon, Uncle Lucky fell asleep and when he woke up, Mr. Merry
Sun was shining and Daddy Longlegs had gone.
“Oh, dear and oh, dear!” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, taking out his gold
watch and chain, “I wonder what time it is.”
Then he sighed again and looked out of the window. But the postman
wasn’t in sight, only the Old Red Rooster raking up the leaves.
“Well, well, well!” sighed lonely Uncle Lucky, for the third time,
“what shall I do?”
“Sing a song,” suggested Little Miss Mousie, peeking out of her small
front door in the far corner of the sitting room.
“Sing us two songs,” shouted the Old Red Rooster through the open
window.
So down at the piano sat kind Uncle Lucky, and, after running his
paws over the keys, commenced:
“When I was young and twenty,
And my hair was curly brown,
I loved a lady bunny,
The sweetest in the town.
One day I bought a ringlet
At the Three-in-One Cent Store,
And then that eve I called on her
And placed it on her paw.
But oh, the years have flown since then,
Way back in ’63,
And only my old wedding hat
Is left to lonely me.”
Then up jumped dear, tender-hearted Uncle Lucky, and wiping the
tears in his left eye, took down his old wedding stovepipe hat and
carefully dusted it off with his blue silk polkadot handkerchief.
All of a sudden the telephone bell began to ring.
“Who’s calling me?” inquired the old gentleman bunny, taking down the
receiver and holding it up to his left ear.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said the next moment. “Well, I don’t want
to talk to you—no, I don’t. You make me cross,” and with that Uncle
Lucky hung up the receiver and hopped back to his big comfortable
armchair.
“Who was it?” asked Little Miss Mousie, running across the floor to
the piano stool, up which she climbed. Then, smoothing her bobbed
hair, she smiled sweetly at the old gentleman bunny.
“Chatterbox, the red squirrel,” answered Uncle Lucky. “He has a funny
story to tell me, but my rheumatism won’t listen to anything, so I
excused myself. Dear me, how my little left hind toe aches. I must be
careful or I’ll be full of crossness.”
“You’ll never be full of anything but kindness,” replied Little Miss
Mousie, arranging the cushions in the big armchair. And she spoke the
truth, don’t you think so, dear little girls and boys?
But poor Uncle Lucky couldn’t fall asleep again, nor could he eat the
nice luncheon which Little Miss Mousie brought in on a silver tray.
By and by, after smoking a cabbage-leaf cigar, he said with a sigh,
“I guess I’ll play a tune; maybe I’ll sing another song,” and
hopping over to the piano, he turned the little stool around three
times and a half, and commenced to sing:
“When she was only sweet sixteen
I loved a little rabbit queen.
Her eyes were pink as any rose,
And even pinker was her nose.
And pinker far her ears inside,
And when she said she’d be my bride,
I bought a lovely wedding ring,
And we were married in the spring.”
“Heigh ho, how the years go!” sighed the old gentleman rabbit
and, taking out his gold watch and chain, he suddenly exclaimed:
“_Goodness gracious meebus! It’s almost time for the wedding!_”
Quickly putting on his old wedding stovepipe hat, he hopped out of
his little house.
You see, his dear bunny niece, pretty Lady Love, had decided to get
married and settle down in the Old Bramble Patch. Perhaps that’s why
Uncle Lucky sang the song about the pretty rabbit queen.
And now I’ll tell you about the wedding. All the Shady Forest folk
were there, of course, and so were the Sunny Meadow people.
[Illustration: “Its almost time for the wedding”]
Old Mrs. Bunny had put her house in apple-pie order, and after the
wedding in the Shady Forest, and Parson Owl had given Lady Love,
the pretty little lady bunny, to Mr. Rabbit to care for all the
rest of his life, everybody started back to the Old Bramble Patch.
Goodness me, it was a long procession! Squirrel Nutcracker, the Big
Brown Bear, Granddaddy Bullfrog, Grandmother Magpie, Busy Beaver,
Sammy Skunk, the Old Brown Horse, Mrs. Grouse, Chippy Chipmunk, the
Stage Coach Dog, the Old Red Rooster, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the
Policeman Dog, Old Barney Owl, the Circus Elephant, the sure-footed
little Mountain Goat, and all the Barnyard Folk. Everybody was
anxious to see the little house that dear Uncle Lucky had built for
Lady Love.
Well, when they all reached the Old Bramble Patch, there stood dear
Uncle Lucky on the front porch, his old wedding stovepipe hat in
his front paw and his big diamond horseshoe pin in his pink cravat.
Yes, sir, there he stood, bowing and smiling just as if it were his
own wedding day and not somebody else’s, as Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love
hopped up the path and into the house to stand under a big horseshoe
wreath of clover and shake hands with all their friends.
Just as everybody had finished looking at the wedding presents, and
dear Uncle Lucky was saying, “Bless you, my children!” Danny Fox
peeped into the window and shouted: “Don’t be frightened! Here’s
a diamond necklace for Lady Love.” Then away he ran, knowing that
nobody wanted him around; for he is a dreadful robber, you know, and
robbers aren’t invited to a wedding. They come later to
Your little Harlem Flat
To steal your high top hat.
At last, when the lollypop juice was all gone, and the grasshopper
orchestra tired of playing, somebody called on Uncle Lucky for a song.
“My dear old wedding hat
I’ve worn for forty year.
I’ve smiled and laughed beneath its brim
And sometimes shed a tear.
But, oh, it hardly seems to me
It was way back in ’63
I wore it on my wedding day,
When I was frisky, young and gay,”
sang the old gentleman rabbit, wiping a tear from his left eye with
his blue silk polkadot handkerchief. Then kissing the bride good-by,
he stopped for a moment to hang up an old horseshoe on the front
porch and then led the guests away, leaving pretty Lady Love and Mr.
Rabbit to fill the little white bungalow with happiness in the years
to come.
By and by a little rabbit boy came to make their dream come true. As
soon as the glad news was telephoned to dear Uncle Lucky, that happy
old gentleman rabbit hopped into his Luckymobile and started off as
fast as a comet for the little white bungalow.
All the way over he honked the horn to bring out all the Shady Forest
Folk from their tree houses and burrows.
“What’s the matter?” asked Squirrel Nutcracker from his Old Tree
Lodge.
“Lady Love has a little boy rabbit!” answered Uncle Lucky.
“What’s all the noise about?” inquired Busy Beaver, swimming up to
the bank of the Shady Forest Pool.
“Lady Love has a little rabbit boy!” answered Uncle Lucky.
“Stop blowing that horn!” snapped Grandmother Magpie from her perch
in the tall pine tree.
“Not for a minute,” shouted back dear Uncle Lucky. “Lady Love has a
little boy rabbit.”
“Are you going crazy?” asked the Big Brown Bear as the Luckymobile
whizzed by the Cozy Cave.
“No, I’m going to see my little grandnephew,” answered Uncle Lucky.
“Lady Love has a baby rabbit.”
“You’ll wake up my babies,” cried Mrs. Bobbie Redvest, as the
Luckymobile rushed past the Apple Orchard.
“Never mind,” shouted back Uncle Lucky. “Tell ’em there’s a new baby
at the Old Bramble Patch. Lady Love has a little boy rabbit.”
“Goodness me, what a noise!” croaked Granddaddy Bullfrog, as Uncle
Lucky circled the Old Duck Pond. “Has the old gentleman rabbit lost
his wits?”
“Not yet,” answered dear Uncle Lucky. “I’m off for the Old Bramble
Patch to see Lady Love’s little boy rabbit. He just came to-day.”
“Where are you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, as Uncle Lucky sped by
the Old Chestnut Tree.
“To see Little Jack Rabbit, Lady Love’s baby,” answered the old
gentleman rabbit.
And so it went. Everybody wanted to know what was the matter, and
when Uncle Lucky finally reached the dear Old Bramble Patch he had
told the glad news to every single solitary person in the Shady
Forest and Sunny Meadow.
BUNNY TALE 2
HUNGRY HAWK
“Hush, little rabbit, go to sleep.
Up in the sky the pretty stars peep;
Down in the meadows the clover tops
Are winking away at the lollypops,”
sang Lady Love, as she rocked the cradle in which lay Little Jack
Rabbit.
Out in the kitchen Old Mrs. Bunny, who had come over for the day, was
baking cabbage cake and Mr. Rabbit was reading in the _Bunnybridge
Bugle_ a story about the new baby rabbit in the Old Bramble Patch.
“Look, mother!” cried the proud rabbit father, turning the paper
toward the good lady bunny.
“Well, I declare!” she exclaimed. “There’s his picture as sure as I’m
a grandmother and you’re my son.”
Yes, sir! On the front page was a picture of Little Jack Rabbit, and
underneath, in big purple letters:
“A new arrival at the Old Bramble Patch. Lady Love has a baby boy
bunny. Carrot City, Bunnybridge, Lettucemere and Turnip City papers
please copy.”
“It makes me as proud as a peacock to see it in the paper,” laughed
Mr. Rabbit. “And to think that Little Jack Rabbit will soon be old
enough to hop about the Sunny Meadow and through the Shady Forest.”
Just then in came Timmie Meadowmouse to see the new little bunny boy.
“Little Jack Rabbit is asleep,” explained his careful father. “Why
didn’t you come early this afternoon? You ought to know, Timmie
Meadowmouse, that little bunny babies are asleep by this hour.”
“What time is it?” asked the little Meadowmouse “I left my watch
home.”
“It’s six o’clock and Merry Sun
Is hiding behind a tree;
It won’t be long before he will glide
Into the western sea,”
answered the cuckoo from her little clock house.
“There! It’s six o’clock. You’d better look out for Hungry Hawk. You
should be home by this time,” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit.
“Can’t I have a peep at your little bunny?” asked the tiny
meadowmouse, holding his cap in his left paw as he turned the brass
doorknob. “I want to tell the Sunny Meadow People I’ve seen him.”
“Come along, then, on your tiptoes,” answered Mr. Rabbit, leading
the little meadowmouse to the bedroom where the bunny baby lay sound
asleep.
“S-s-s-s-h!” whispered Lady Love from the rocking chair close by, as
Timmie Meadowmouse stood on his hind legs to peep into the cradle.
“He’ll be running about in a day or two,” chuckled Mr. Rabbit, as he
said good night to Timmie Meadowmouse. “He’ll be out with Uncle Lucky
in no time.”
[Illustration: “He’s over at the barnyard, talking to Old Sic’em.”]
And that’s just what happened a few weeks later when Uncle Lucky,
hopping out of his Luckymobile and into the Old Bramble Patch,
shouted:
“Where’s that grandson of mine?”
“He’s over at the Barnyard, talking to Old Sic’em,” answered Mr.
Rabbit from the front porch.
“Please call him home,” begged anxious Lady Love.
“Have you polished the doorknob clean and bright,
And brought in the kindling wood?
I think I hear the canary bird
Crying for breakfast food,”
she said, as her bunny boy hopped up to the kitchen door.
“Dear, oh, dear!” answered the truthful little rabbit, “I forgot all
about her. But I filled the woodbox and polished the doorknob, Mother
dear.”
“Give me the watering can,” said the kind Old Red Rooster. “You
attend to Little Miss Canary.
She’s a pretty little fellow
In her feather dress of yellow,
And she sings so clear and sweet
From her tiny wooden seat!”
“My, where did you learn to talk in poetry?” asked the bunny boy,
handing over the big green watering pot.
“I’ll tell you some day when I have more time,” replied the Old
Red Rooster. “Now, mind your mother. Hop along and feed the little
birdie!”
Away went the bunny boy, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, to give the
pretty canary her breakfast. After which she stood tiptoe on the edge
of the porcelain drinking cup, tilting back her head to let the drops
of water trickle down her feather-ruffled throat.
“Would you believe it, Little Jack Rabbit is growing so fast we have
to call up the Three-in-One-Cent Store twice a week for a new suit
of clothes? If he keeps on growing like this he’ll be in long pants
before Easter,” explained sweet Lady Love to the old gentleman rabbit.
“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky. “I remember you grew mighty fast.
It seemed I had hardly given you a lollypop rattle when it came time
to give you a cherry-stone necklace.”
Just then the Old Red Rooster began to crow:
“Oh, things have changed in the Bramble Patch,
I’ve scarcely a moment’s time to scratch;
With Little Jack Rabbit to teach and learn
I’ve hardly the time my wage to earn.”
“Did you ever!” laughed Old Mrs. Bunny from the kitchen door. “One
would think the Old Red Rooster was a busy person! He’d rather rest
on his hoe and talk to Little Jack Rabbit than weed the garden. My,
but he’s a lazy fowl!”
“Never mind,” answered Uncle Lucky, hopping around the little white
house. Not far away Little Jack Rabbit and the Old Red Rooster were
feeding the pigeons, who had flown down from their pretty house on
the top of a tall pole.
“Hey, there, young rabbit!” cried Uncle Lucky. “Don’t pull the tail
feathers out of the Old Red Rooster’s swallow tail coat!” You see,
Little Jack Rabbit was making believe the good-natured rooster was a
horse and he was driving him to the station at Bunnybridge.
“Where have you been?” asked the little bunny.
“Oh, I’ve just come in from a drive,” answered Uncle Lucky. “I had
some business to attend to in Carrot City.”
“When are you going to take me for a ride?”
“Wait a little longer till you’re big enough to look out for
yourself,” answered wise old Uncle Lucky. “There’s no telling when
Danny Fox or Old Man Weasel may pop out from behind a tree. You’re
safer here in the Old Bramble Patch for a while yet.”
All of a sudden the Old Red Rooster gave a warning. Quick as a wink
into the Little Red Barn hopped the two bunnies, Uncle Lucky first,
Little Jack Rabbit next and last, but just as fast, the Old Red
Rooster.
Closing the door, they peeped out through a knothole. There in the
back yard stood Hungry Hawk.
“Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” cried Hungry Hawk,
As he flew at the door with a dreadful squawk,
“This Little Red Barn’s a pretty good place
For rabbits to hide from my grinning face.”
And, hopping around the barn, that old robber bird peeked in through
every crack. By and by he came to quite a large knothole. Oh, dear
me, yes! It was big enough for his head, and then it seemed almost
large enough for his body.
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed anxious Uncle Lucky, “I’m
afraid that old bird will squeeze in.”
“Wait a minute, hold your breath,
Don’t you sneeze or titter,
I’ll show that dreadful robber bird
That I’m a home run hitter,”
whispered the Old Red Rooster, and the next minute he had crept over
on his tiptoes to the tool closet for the big heavy wooden mallet.
Hungry Hawk didn’t notice the Old Red Rooster. No, siree, ma’am! He
was too busy pushing and shoving, and shoving and pushing. He surely
thought that pretty soon he’d be in the barn, feasting on two nice
rabbits and maybe a fat rooster.
How he did squirm and twist and twist and squirm! Dear me! I hope he
doesn’t get both his wings through the knothole before the Old Red
Rooster can swing the big wooden mallet. Because, if once inside,
Hungry Hawk will put up a dreadful fight and maybe get the best of
the two little rabbits and the Old Red Rooster.
Dear me! again. I wish I could tell the Kind Policeman Dog over the
wireless what is going on in the Little Red Barn. He wouldn’t wait
a minute. No, sireemam! He’d come with his hickory stick and knock
Hungry Hawk’s tail right off before the Old Red Rooster had time to
swing the big wooden mallet.
But there’s no use wishing for things. Just get out and get them!
That’s the way. So, here we go! Old Red Rooster, hurry up! And that’s
just what he did.
WHACK! Down came the wooden mallet on Hungry Hawk’s head. Whew! How
mad he was!
WHACK! Again the Old Red Rooster tickled the wicked hawk’s head.
“Give him another!” shouted Uncle Lucky, hiding Little Jack Rabbit
behind his coat tails. “Hit him again, and three times more!”
Now, let me see. What did Hungry Hawk do after Uncle Lucky shouted to
the Old Red Rooster; “Hit him again!” Well, what would you think he’d
do? First, he hid his head under his wing; then he tried to squeeze
back through the knothole. But he couldn’t, for his feathers turned
up at the end and made him bigger than ever.
“I don’t want to break your head,” said the Old Red Rooster. “This
wooden mallet is pretty hard. But if you think you’re going to eat
Uncle Lucky or Little Jack Rabbit or yours truly, you’ve made a
mistake.”
“You bet you have!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. “You better go home to
Mrs. Hawk and lead a better life hereafter.”
“Dear me! I wish I could,” answered Hungry Hawk, “I’ve got an awful
headache. The Old Red Rooster hit me three times with the wooden
mallet.”
Just then who should hop into the barn but the Policeman Dog. I
wonder how he found out what was going on?
“You wicked bird! I’ve a good notion to shoot you,” he shouted,
pulling his gun from his hip pocket.
“Don’t shoot!” begged Hungry Hawk, his tail feathers twitching and
his eyes blinking with fright. My, but he was scared. For that
Policeman Dog’s gun was a warlike looking weapon, let me tell you.
The handle was red and the barrel black and the bullet as yellow as a
dandelion.
“I’ll take three minutes to think about it,” answered the Policeman
Dog. “But what are you going to do? You can’t get out and you can’t
get in, I guess you wish you were thin as a pin.”
Just think of a Policeman Dog making up poetry at a dangerous time
like this. Well, I never.
“I’m worried enough to grow thin,” answered Hungry Hawk. “Besides,
I’m dreadfully uncomfortable.”
“I’ve got an idea,” suddenly exclaimed wise Uncle Lucky, “I’ll knock
out the board. Maybe it will split in two and free the old bird.”
“Please be careful,” begged Hungry Hawk, as the old gentleman rabbit
lifted the heavy wooden mallet, “please don’t make a mistake and hit
me.”
“One, two, three!” sang out Uncle Lucky, and down came the mallet,
whack! against the board. The next minute Hungry Hawk found himself
by the woodpile. But, dear me! The board hadn’t cracked open. No, the
nails had just pulled out of the Big Red Barn.
All of a sudden the old hawk gave a tre-men-dous squirm and away he
flew, with a whirr of wings, above the Sunny Meadow.
“I guess he won’t bother little rabbits for some time,” cried Uncle
Lucky. But, children dear, I’m sorry to say, a little further on in
the book he does something dreadful.
Oh, hawks are very crafty things,
They fly about on silent wings,
And if, perchance, a little rabbit
Is heedless of a watchful habit,
He’ll find too late some sunny morning
He should have followed mother’s warning.
BUNNY TALE 3
THE LOLLYPOP TREE
“I must run up to see the Big Brown Bear,” thought Little Jack
Rabbit, looking up at Mr. Merry Sun shining in the Blue Sky Country.
“I want you to hop down to the Three-in-One-Cent Store for a
clothes-pin,” said Lady Love, his pretty bunny mother.
“All right, mother dear,” answered the little rabbit, tucking the
napkin under his chin and helping himself to a big slice of carrot
cake.
My, what a nice breakfast his bunny mother had made for him—carrot
cakes with lollypop syrup, turnip tea and lettuce marmalade.
As soon as the little rabbit had brought in the kindling wood, fed
the canary and polished the front door knob, he kissed his pretty
bunny mother good-by and hopped down the winding path through the
brambles to the Sunny Meadow.
Peeking out of his little front door stood Timmie Meadowmouse.
“Hello!” said Little Jack Rabbit, stopping before the tiny, round
grass-ball house, hung on three stiff stalks of grass about six
inches above the ground, “Where do you think I’m going?”
“Well, wherever you’re going,” answered the timid meadowmouse,
peering anxiously out of the small round hole that serves for his
front door, “you’d better look out for Danny Fox.”
“Oh, I will,” replied Little Jack Rabbit. “And I’ll bring you a
lollypop, ’cause I’m going up to see the Big Brown Bear and the
Lollypop Tree. Good-by,” and away hopped the little bunny, clipperty
clip, lipperty lip, up the Old Cow Path in the Sunny Meadow and over
the hill top until, by and by, not so very long, he came to the Shady
Forest, where he paused for a moment to inquire how Mrs. Nutcracker
was getting along.
“Very nicely, thank you,” replied old Squirrel Nutcracker, dropping a
handful of nuts in the little rabbit’s pocket. “She’ll soon be around
again.”
“I’m glad of that,” answered the kind-hearted little bunny boy,
“mother sends her love,” and off he hopped up the Shady Forest Trail.
As he passed the pool in which Busy Beaver has his home, he stopped
to say “Hello.”
“Hello, yourself!” shouted back the little beaver. “How are all the
folks?”
“Pretty well, except dear Uncle Lucky Lefthindfoot,” answered the
little bunny rabbit boy. “He has the rheumatism in his left hind toe
and Dr. Quack says it will be some time before he can do a toe dance.”
[Illustration: B.B.BEAR
“That’s a good lad” laughed Big Brown Bear.]
“Shouldn’t wonder,” laughed the happy little beaver, giving his
big broad tail a sudden flap, sending the spray all over the little
rabbit boy bunny’s fur coat, “but why should Uncle Lucky want to do a
toe dance, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” replied the little rabbit, wiping the water drops off
his coat sleeve. “You’ve splashed me all over, Busy Beaver, yes, you
have,” and away went the little rabbit, for it was nearly a mile and
a whistle and a smile to Cozy Cave where the Big Brown Bear sold
Ice cream cones and lollypops,
Licorice sticks and Sweet Corn Pops,
Peppermints and ’Lasses Drops.
Dear me! Doesn’t that sound delicious? If only I had the time I’d
leave my typewriter to run over to the Big Brown Bear. Would you come
with me, little reader? I guess you would, and so would your little
brother Jimmy.
Well, now where was I before I began to dream? I was on my way to
Cozy Cave for a gum drop? Oh, yes, Little Jack Rabbit had stopped
before I had even started, so I’ll tell you without digressing
further, which means to go off sideways—what the little bunny did.
“Where you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, running along the top of
the Old Rail Fence, his red striped jacket shining in the morning sun
and his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
“To the cozy cave of the Big Brown Bear,
And the Lollypop Tree just over there.”
“Bring me a lollypop,” shouted Chippy Chipmunk as the little rabbit
boy hopped up the Shady Forest Trail, in and out among the trees,
where Billy Breeze whistled amid the leaves.
By and by, way, way yonder, he could just make out the comfortable
figure of the Big Brown Bear sitting in front of his cozy cave,
smoking a corncob pipe.
“Hello! hello!” shouted the little rabbit, waving his red-striped
candy cane. “Are you there, Mr. Bear?”
“No, I’m here,” chuckled the big good-natured, furry-coated animal,
“but just keep on, you’ll find me all right.”
“How’s mother?” he asked, taking the old corncob pipe from between
his beautiful white pearly teeth, as the breathless little rabbit
stood before him.
“She’s well, thank you,” panted the little bunny boy, looking up
at the lollypops as they winked their purple-pinky eyes from the
branches of the Lollypop Tree.
“Did you do your three chores for mother this morning?” enquired the
Big Brown Bear, although the little bunny boy wished to goodness
gracious he would stop asking questions and give him a lollypop.
“Oh, yes, oh, yes!” answered the wistful-eyed little rabbit.
“You polished the front door knob, fed the canary and brought in the
kindling wood?” continued the questioning old bear.
“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” repeated the little bunny boy rabbit, only this
time he shouted it.
“That’s a good lad,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, handing a pink
lollypop to his little long-eared caller. “Have a lollypop!”
And then, would you believe it, that big bear put away his pipe and
began to suck a green lollypop. Just fancy that if you can! Pretty
soon he said with a smile, “Want another?”
“Have you any left?” asked the bunny boy, oh, so wist-ful-ly.
“Well, I’ll see,” answered the Big Brown Bear, rising to his feet
and ambling into the cozy cave. But, oh, dear me! the only things he
found were a popcorn ball and an empty ice cream cone.
“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed, coming out again into the
sunlight, “I guess I’ll have to climb the Lollypop Tree.”
It didn’t take him long to swing himself up, and as he climbed higher
and higher, the little rabbit watched him anxiously. Pretty soon the
Big Brown Bear reached the branches where the lollypops grow in a
rainbow row.
“Do you want that nice pink one?” he asked, looking down into the
little rabbit’s upturned face.
“Oh, yes!” shouted the bunny boy. “And that green one, too, and that
one all blue, and maybe a purple one for you.”
Carefully picking off the lollypops, the big kind animal shoved them
into his coat pocket. Then sliding down the tree, he walked over and
sat down on the big wooden bench.
“Come, hop up beside me. We’ll sing the lollypop song!” and moving
over to one side to make room for the little rabbit he held up the
purple lollypop. Then the little bunny held up the pink lollypop,
and, both together, all at once, just at the same time, they shouted:
“Hip, Hip, Hurray,
I lick a lollypop every day.”
Pretty soon the lollypops were licked all to pieces—nothing was left
but the two little sticks.
“Well, well,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, taking out of his pocket
the green and blue lollypops. Then he and his little bunny friend
held them up in the same way, singing all over again the lovely
lollypop song, and when only the little sticks remained, the Big
Brown Bear asked with a smile:
“What shall we do now?”
“Let’s have one more lollypop and one more song,” answered the little
rabbit.
“Dear, dear, dearest me! I must climb up the Lollypop Tree!” sighed
the Big Brown Bear. But he was so kind and he was so good that up he
went, until at last he came to the row where the beautiful, luscious
lollypops grow.
“Do you want that yellow one?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, I do, and that red one, too,” shouted the little rabbit,
“and that orange one will be good for you.”
Picking them off the branches with his furry paw, the Big Brown Bear
slipped them in his pocket and, scrambling down to the ground,
walked over to the big wooden bench. The little rabbit followed close
at his heels and, jumping up beside him, peeked into the good-natured
animal’s pocket.
“My, what a hungry little bunny,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, pulling
out the lollypops. Then, holding up the orange colored one in his
right paw, he waited for the little bunny boy.
“Hip, Hip, Hurray,
I lick a lollypop every day,”
they shouted all over again; and not until the lollypops were all
gone did the little rabbit suddenly remember the errand for his
mother.
“Dear, oh, dear! I almost forgot that mother wants a clothes-pin from
the Three-in-One Cent Store. Good-by, Mr. Big Brown Bear,” and away
hopped the little rabbit down the winding trail, in and out among the
trees, until at last he hopped across Busy Beaver’s dam that held
back the water in the Bubbling Brook.
“What’s your hurry?” asked the beaver.
“Don’t stop me!” replied the little bunny boy. “Mother asked me to
get a clothes-pin,” and, hitching up his little knapsack, he swung
his little striped candy cane around three times and a half and
hopped merrily up the Old Cow Path toward the farmyard.
“Hello!” cackled Henny Jenny, as he peeked in through the fence.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” crowed Cocky Doodle.
“I’m pretty well,” answered the bunny boy rabbit, “but don’t stop me!
I must get a clothes-pin for mother at the Three-in-One Cent Store.”
But, dear me! Just then Ducky Waddles shuffled around the big
haystack and Turkey Tim strutted across the yard. Of course they,
too, shouted “Hello!” and the next minute the Weathercock on the big
Red Barn spun around on his gilded toe and asked the little rabbit
the time.
“Dear me!” thought the little bunny, taking out the big gold watch
which Uncle Lucky had given him for a birthday present, “I’m afraid
to look—I’ve wasted so much time this morning.” And then, oh, how I
hate to tell it, something dreadful happened.
All of a sudden,
Just like that,
Out of the house
Came the farmer’s cat.
“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, backing away toward the old
apple tree, “Black Cat will surely scratch all the little buttons off
my fur overcoat.”
“Meow! Meow!” cried Black Cat, creeping forward, his wicked green
eyes blazing like balls of fire and his sharp claws sticking out of
his fur-mittens.
And the poor little rabbit, his back against the old apple tree,
stood all a-tremble, not knowing what to do.
“Go way, go way!” he cried. But closer and closer crept the wicked
cat in his long black coat.
All of a sudden a little voice from a treetop whispered:
“Don’t you remember how your mother taught you to defend yourself?”
Then, of course, the little rabbit boy remembered the only way a
bunny can protect himself. Turning around as quick as a flash, he
struck out with his two strong hind legs, hitting Black Cat such
a welt in the belt that all the breath was knocked out of him. It
took the old cat five minutes to find it. And while he hunted here
and there, under a stone and behind a bush, away hopped the little
rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, down the road to Rabbitville.
“Don’t forget next time to remember what mother tells you,” called
little Bobbie Redvest from the apple tree.
“Oh, I won’t, I won’t!” shouted the little bunny boy over his
shoulder, “I’m trying now to remember the clothes-pin!” and away he
hopped faster than ever to the Three-in-One Cent Store.
BUNNY TALE 4
UNCLE LUCKY
Goodness me! boys and girls, I think I forgot to mention that just
back of Uncle Lucky’s little white house stood a tiny garage in
which he kept his Luckymobile, the fastest car in all Rabbitville.
Sometimes it went so fast that the hind wheels couldn’t keep up with
the front wheels. Then, of course, the old gentleman rabbit had to
honk the horn and put on the brakes to avoid a dreadful accident.
One morning dear Uncle Lucky hopped into the kitchen where Little
Miss Mousie was setting the breakfast table while the turnip tea was
singing on the stove.
As soon as the meal was over the old gentleman rabbit slipped his
big diamond horseshoe pin into his purple cravat and buttoned up his
pink waistcoat. Then tying his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over
the top of his old wedding stovepipe hat and under his chin to keep
Billy Breeze from blowing it off, he shouted, “Good-by, Little Miss
Mousie!” and hopped out to the garage, where the old Red Rooster was
cleaning the Luckymobile cushions with his feather duster tail.
“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping into the Luckymobile,
“I’m going to take Little Jack Rabbit out for a ride.” And, giving
the horn a honk or two, he whizzed through the little gate in the
white picket fence. At Cabbage Street he turned off Lettuce Avenue
and into the Shady Forest. By and by, after a while, he reached the
dear Old Bramble Patch.
“I’ll be out in just a minute!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit in answer
to the three honks of the Luckymobile horn. “I’ve almost finished
polishing the front door knob.”
“Don’t hurry!” replied the old gentleman rabbit, hopping around to
the kitchen where Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, was wiping
the dishes.
“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” chirped the little Black Cricket from the
woodbox by the kitchen stove.
“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” sang the Three Little Grasshoppers, while
the pretty Canary from her gold cage twittered a song of welcome and
the Hollyhocks nodded their heads as the old gentleman rabbit hopped
up on the little back porch.
Lady Love pushed forward the big rocking chair and when the old
gentleman bunny was comfortably seated, handed him a cup of turnip
tea.
“Ah, me!” he sighed, though smiling at Lady Love:
“When I was young and frisky
Way back in ’63,
A pretty little bunny girl
Gave me a cup of tea,”
and taking a blue silk polkadot handkerchief out of his coat-tail
pocket, dear kind Uncle Lucky wiped a tear from his left eye.
Pretty soon when Little Jack Rabbit had finished polishing the front
door knob, he and Uncle Lucky hopped out to the Luckymobile and
drove away across the Sunny Meadow, up the Old Cow Path and over the
hill-top, to the Shady Forest.
Everything was going along so nicely and Billy Breeze was whistling
such a merry tune in the treetops when, all of a sudden, just like
that, quick as the bills on the first of the month, something
happened. Isn’t it too bad that unpleasant things always happen when
these two dear little rabbits are enjoying themselves?
Before Uncle Lucky could stop the Luckymobile it ran straight into a
big log that lay across the Shady Forest Path, and out went the two
little bunnies. No sooner had they picked themselves up than whom
should they see peeping around a tree, but Mr. Wicked Wolf.
“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” whispered Little Jack Rabbit, “let’s turn back.”
But, goodness gracious me! who was standing not far behind them, but
Danny Fox!
“Worse and worse,” sighed poor dear Uncle Lucky, hopping off sideways
when, all of a sudden, Old Man Weasel crept from behind a stone.
“What shall we do?” cried the poor little rabbit, all a-tremble with
fright. “Won’t somebody come to help us?”
“Hurry up, little rabbit,
Quickly jump
Into that friendly old
Hollow Stump,”
whispered a little voice from the treetop. And, wasn’t it lucky? it
was the Old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth.
[Illustration: “S.O.S. Please come quick!”]
“S.O.S. Please come quick,
Policeman Dog, with your hickory stick!”
shouted the bunny boy.
Then brave Uncle Lucky held the door tight shut with his strong hind
legs while the little rabbit peeped out through a knothole.
“Is he coming? Is he coming?” asked the anxious old gentleman rabbit,
still holding the door tightly closed with his strong hind legs.
“Maybe I can see him with my left eye,” answered the little rabbit,
again squinting through the knothole. “Here he comes! Here he comes!”
Sure enough, the big kind Policeman Dog in his long blue coat with
its big silver star was running swiftly across the Sunny Meadow.
“Here, I am!” he shouted, waving his hickory stick and blowing his
big shrill whistle.
No sooner did Danny Fox hear that whistle than he ran through the
Shady Forest.
No sooner did Mr. Wicked Wolf see the big kind Policeman Dog than he,
too, turned and fled.
As for Old Man Weasel, he crawled under the bed on reaching home and
never dared to come out for a week and a day.
“Everything is safe now!” shouted the big kind Policeman Dog, tapping
the little door of the old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth with his big
hickory stick. So out hopped the two little rabbits.
“Here, take this!” cried dear generous Uncle Lucky, pulling out of
his wallet a ten dollar lettuce leaf bill for the brave Policeman
Dog. “Buy the Missus a new calico apron and the little bow-wow some
candy.”
“Thank you,” said the good Policeman Dog, saluting the old gentleman
rabbit with his right paw, and away he ran to the Police Station in
Rabbitville.
“I guess we’d better go home,” said the old gentleman rabbit. “We’ve
had enough trouble for to-day,” and before long he drove through the
gate in the white picket fence and around to the garage in the rear
of his little white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot
Street, Rabbitville.
There stood the Old Red Rooster, polishing his spurs with Uncle
Lucky’s shoe brush.
“Are you going to a wedding?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, winking
at Mrs. Swallow, who was peeping out of her mud house under the eaves.
“No, to a fight!” answered the Old Red Rooster.
“Maybe I’d better bring in some cabbage leaves,” said the old
gentleman rabbit, hopping down the little path under the grape arbor
and around the Old Well to the garden. “Miss Mousie can make us a
nice salad for lunch.” And while his little mouse housekeeper was
setting the table, he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped out on the front
porch where, just under the roof, pretty Mrs. Sparrow had a nest
crowded with little birdies.
Sitting down in the hammock, the old gentleman rabbit swung back and
forth, while his little bunny nephew looked in the croquet box to see
if Hungry Hawk had stolen one of the nice wooden balls.
Pretty soon, when the old gentleman rabbit had fallen asleep, Mrs.
Sparrow whispered in the little bunny’s ear,
“I never, never pay a cent,
My little house is free of rent,”
and she went on to explain how dear generous Uncle Lucky allowed her
to use his front porch free of charge all through the year.
By and by Little Miss Mousie came to the front door to say that
luncheon was ready.
“Dearest me!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “did I fall asleep?” and jumping
out of the hammock, he winked at little Mrs. Sparrow. Then calling to
Little Jack Rabbit, he hopped through the front hall, where the Old
Grandfather Clock went tick, tickie, tock all the day long.
“Oh, all the day long
Old Grandfather Clock
Went tickie, tick, tickie,
Tick, tickie, tock.
But Little Miss Mousie,
She wasn’t afraid,
As she polished the window
And pulled down the shade.
She loved the Old Grandfather
Tick, tockey Clock,
Why, she sang to herself
As it went tickie, tock!
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit,
hanging his old wedding stovepipe hat on the hat-stand, “I’m as
hungry as three bears!”
“So am I,” laughed the little rabbit, “I could eat a bag of animal
crackers!”
“Dearest me! Somebody’s knocking,” exclaimed the old gentleman
rabbit, as Little Miss Mousie brought in the lollypop stew. “I wonder
if it’s Old Man Trouble?”
“No, it isn’t,” answered Little Miss Mousie, peeking through the
keyhole. “It’s Granddaddy Bullfrog.”
“Ask him in! Don’t keep him waiting!” shouted dear hospitable Uncle
Lucky.
“You’re just in time for lunch,” he added, as the old gentleman frog
hopped into the kitchen.
Pushing up a chair, Little Miss Mousie made an extra place for him
at the neat little table. But, oh, dear me! she forgot to give him a
napkin, and because the old gentleman frog was too polite to ask for
one while eating a raspberry tart, one of the raspberries rolled down
his white waistcoat!
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky, suddenly
seeing the big red stain, “were you signing checks with red ink this
morning?”
But before the embarrassed old frog could answer kind Little Miss
Mousie washed off the spot with a gasolene cloth.
After the meal was over Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy Bullfrog hopped
out on the front porch to play pinochle and the little rabbit went
out to talk to the Old Red Rooster, who was still polishing his spurs
in the Old Red Barn.
By and by the little bunny grew restless and, thinking he had better
be going, he hopped around to the kitchen to say good-by to Little
Miss Mousie. After she had filled his pockets with sweet cookies, he
stopped a moment at the front porch, but Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy
Bullfrog were so busy with their game that they never noticed him.
“I’ll say good-by for you,” twittered little Mrs. Sparrow, knowing
that the little bunny didn’t want dear Uncle Lucky to wonder what had
become of him.
“Here comes a little rabbit bunny,
His knapsack full of ready money
Lettuce bills and carrot cents,
And maybe a million turnip pence,”
sang Bobbie Redvest from the Old Rail Fence.
“Not quite so many,” answered the little rabbit, “but maybe some day
I’ll have enough to buy mother a jade necklace.”
“Look out! Look out for Danny Fox!
He’s sneaking round in his tiptoe socks!
If he should see you first, look out!
You won’t have time to even shout!”
whispered Billy Breeze to all the little people of the Shady Forest
and the Sunny Meadow. He didn’t exactly whisper it, you know. He did
it in a better way, a way by which no one heard a word. He carried
the smell of the wicked old fox to the nose of every little animal.
Yes, sir, that’s how Billy Breeze whispers bad news!
“I’m glad I’m safe at home,” thought the little bunny, as he opened
the little gate in the white picket fence around the dear Old Bramble
Patch.
“Dear, oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Grouse, hiding her brood under her
wings amid the brown underbrush.
“Goodness gracious!” cackled little Henny Jenny, “I’m glad Old
Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, is around. I hope the Farmer’s Boy won’t
whistle to him.”
“Heigh, ho!” yawned Mrs. Cow, with a shake of her head, making the
little bell on her collar ting-a-ling. “So old Danny Fox is out
hunting!”
Then the motherly lady cow walked over to rub her nose against the
silky ear of her long-legged little calf. “But you needn’t be afraid
of that old robber. He eats only little defenseless bunnies and
chickens. He’s no real hunter. Oh, my, no! He’s only a sneak thief.”
“What’s that you’re saying about me?” asked a voice, all of a sudden,
quick as a lightning bug or a tornado.
There stood Danny Fox himself, close by the Old Rail Fence.
“Moo-oo! Moo-oo!” answered Mrs. Cow, lowering her head till her horns
pointed right at his head.
“S-s-s-h!” whispered the sly old robber, “maybe the farmer will think
you’re calling him!”
[Illustration: “Don’t you bother me, you old rascal.”]
“I don’t care if he does,” answered Mrs. Cow, giving her head a toss,
but quickly lowering it to bring the tips of her horns on a level
with Danny Fox’s eyes. “Don’t you bother me, you old rascal.”
“Ha, ha!” laughed Danny Fox, carefully peering here and there,
however, for fear some one might be coming by, “I’m not afraid of
you. Besides, you have a thimble on each of your horns.”
They weren’t real thimbles, you know, but the little brass caps
which the Farmer had fastened on. Danny Fox thought they were
thimbles because Mrs. Fox used a thimble when she mended Bushytail’s
coat or Slyboot’s trousers.
“I don’t care what you say, you old robber,” answered Mrs. Cow with
a loud moo-oo! walking up to the fence as brave as a fireman or a
policeman. “Get out, or I’ll toss you over the Bubbling Brook, or
maybe farther!”
“Now, don’t get disagreeable,” whined the old fox, “I’m going along.
Maybe I’ll find a nice little rabbit for supper.”
But he won’t catch Little Jack Rabbit. No, indeed! That dear little
bunny boy is safe in the Old Bramble Patch.
BUNNY TALE 5
THE RADIO ALARM