selfish old bird instead threw a snowball, hitting the little rabbit
on the tip of his tail.
Off he hopped, for he wasn’t going to have snowballs thrown at him.
No, sireeman. And pretty soon, not so very far, he met Brownie Mink
creeping along by the Old Duck Pond.
“I must be very careful these days,” he whispered. “People wear fur
in the winter time and that dreadful Miller’s boy may set a trap. If
it catches me I’ll be a muff instead of a little mink.”
“They set traps for me, too!” answered the little bunny. “Besides, I
must look out for Danny Fox and Old Man Weasel. And sometimes, and
maybe oftener, for Robber Hawk. You’re not the only one who has to
look out for himself.”
All of a sudden the little rabbit felt hungry and, opening his
knapsack, handed a lollypop to Brownie Mink. But what the bunny boy
ate will take too long to tell.
“The next time you pass the Old Bramble Patch I’ll ask Uncle Lucky to
take us sledmobiling,” he said, buckling on his knapsack.
“Hurray!” shouted the little mink, tickled almost to pieces. He’d
never ridden in a sledmobile and neither have I, and neither have
you, but we may some day if we happen to be around when Uncle Lucky
passes by.
“The snow is nearly three feet deep
Upon the forest trail,
And windy rifts and hilly drifts
Blot out the lonely vale.
“Oh, little bunny, have a care
For Danny Fox is everywhere!
Be very careful where you go
And leave no footprints in the snow,”
sang Sammy Snowbird from a little bush in the Sunny Meadow, knowing
how hungry Danny Fox was now that the ground was covered with a white
carpet. Up at the Old Barn Yard the chickens huddled inside the warm
hen house and old Danny Fox couldn’t find even a feather near the Big
Red Barn.
“I’ll keep a bright lookout, never fear,” laughed the bunny boy, and
he hopped away into the Shady Forest. By and by he met a big Snow
Man. Wasn’t it strange to find a Snow Man in the Shady Forest? Well,
I guess it was, and the little rabbit thought so, too. All of a
sudden two little bears ran out of a cave and shouted: “We did it.”
“It’s a fine Snow Man,” answered the little bunny and, taking a lemon
lollypop out of his knapsack, he pushed the stick into the Snow Man’s
mouth. It seemed as if he were smoking a lollypop pipe. But not for
long, let me tell you. No, sireeman and no, siree, Mister! For in a
jiffy those two little bears took it away from the poor Snow Man, and
ate it up, stick and all.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the little rabbit, and, being a generous little
bunny, he took another out of his knapsack. “Take it home to your
little sister.” But the two bears didn’t have any sister, only an old
aunt who didn’t like candy.
After that the little bunny hopped away. By and by he saw a great
icicle hanging from a rock in the Bubbling Brook. Now Mr. Merry Sun
was doing his best to melt it, but Mr. North Wind blew so cold that
all Mr. Merry Sun could do was to paint it all sorts of colors, green
and red, yellow and purple. “It looks like a stick of candy,” thought
the little rabbit, breaking it off.
“I’ll fool somebody with it,” and away he hopped, singing:
“Over the snow, over the snow,
Hippity, hippity, hop I go.
I don’t care if the woods are bare,
For I love the snow, the beautiful snow,
Hiding the flowers until they can grow.”
By and by he came to the Shady Forest Pond. Of course it was all
frozen over with a thick coating of ice. Only the top of Mister
Muskrat’s house could be seen, in the upper bedroom of which, high
and dry, Mister Muskrat himself lay sound asleep.
Sliding out on the ice, the little rabbit knocked on the roof. But he
never saw the frightened Muskrat swim out in the water. Oh, dear, no.
The ice was too thick for that, although Mister Muskrat could hear
the little rabbit sliding about overhead.
“I must wait until Springtime to find out who called,” thought Mister
Muskrat, swimming over to his other hiding place among the roots of
the Old Chestnut Tree in which Old Barney Owl had built his little
wooden house in a big hollow limb.
And wasn’t it strange? Mister Muskrat never got the least bit wet
as he swam through the water. You see his thick fur overcoat is
waterproof.
“I have few friends in the wintertime,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit.
“Timmie Chipmunk is fast asleep in his little warm house. So is Woody
Chuck. And Granddaddy Bullfrog and Teddy Turtle are dreaming away in
the soft warm mud at the bottom of the Old Duck Pond. I’ll be glad
when warm weather comes.”
Just then who should pop out of his little snow tunnel, for by
this time the little rabbit was on the Sunny Meadow, but Timmie
Meadowmouse. He wasn’t afraid of little bunnies, you know, nor
squirrels, nor chipmunks, but always kept his eyes open for Danny
Fox, and Old Man Weasel, who are always skulking around, or for
Hungry Hawk, who is often flying up in the sky.
“I’ve been playing hide and seek all day,” laughed Timmie Meadowmouse.
“Who with?” inquired Little Jack Rabbit anxiously, wiggling his
little pink nose to catch the first scent of danger.
“Oh, with Danny Fox,” replied the little meadowmouse. “But, you see,
he didn’t catch me.”
“Don’t be too sure all the time.
Some day you’ll regret it;
Danger comes so suddenly,
Watch and don’t forget it,”
sang Charlie Chickadee.
Dear me! That little bird must have known that danger was lurking
near.
“Run, run, run!
Skate, skate, skate!
You’d better start this minute
Or else you’ll be too late.
Old Danny Fox will catch you
If you don’t watch out,
Hurry, hurry, hurry!
Old Danny Fox’s about!”
shouted Squirrel Nutcracker from his Tree Top House.
Away went Little Jack Rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip! No, he
didn’t, either. He went slipperty slip! Slipperty slip! Just like
that, only faster.
“I’ll catch you yet,” growled Danny Fox.
“Not yet,” gasped the little bunny boy.
“Pretty soon,” whined the old fox.
“Never and never,” replied the bunny boy bravely. “Mother shan’t lose
her little rabbit, not if I can help it!” and away he went, faster
than before, and lots faster than behind. And in less time than I can
take to tell it he was safely over the little picket fence around
the dear Old Bramble Patch. You see, he couldn’t wait to unlatch the
gate, but gave a hop-tee-idy right over it. The next minute Lady Love
had pulled him in and slammed the kitchen door.
“Safe at home in mother’s arms!
That’s the place to be.
Warm and cuddley, mother’s breast,
Like a pretty downy nest,”
sang the Canary Bird. Then Little Miss Cricket chirped and the Three
Grasshoppers fiddled pretty music.
BUNNY TALE 17
TROUBLE
I wish that only lovely things,
Like roses red and diamond rings
And lollypops and ice cream cones
And pretty little colored stones
Would fall down at the rabbits’ feet
And make them smile with laughter sweet,
And not a hungry long-clawed hawk,
With swishing wings and cruel squawk.
And now I’ve explained in this little poem what happened while the
little rabbit family were sitting peacefully on the back porch of
their little bungalow in the Old Bramble Patch.
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, as he tried to
close the kitchen door. “Hungry Hawk, will you kindly pull your bill
away?”
“You can’t hurt my bill,” answered the old hawk, scratching and
pushing the door.
“All right, then,” answered Uncle Lucky. “Let’s see you get away, you
old robber.”
But, dear me! That old bird was very persistent!
“Get the poker!” panted Uncle Lucky, “I can’t hold out much longer.”
“Here it is,” cried the little bunny, handing the poker to the old
gentleman rabbit. Then, in some way or another, I can’t explain just
how, brave Uncle Lucky pressed it against the door and pulling up the
kitchen table, made it fast to one of the legs.
“Ha, ha!” he laughed, “now, old robber hawk, get away if you can!
Maybe you’ll wish you’d never made us a call,” and with a hop, skip
and a toe-slide over the floor, the old gentleman bunny peeked out of
the kitchen window.
Goodness gracious, how ruffled and bedraggled was the old hawk! He
could use his legs and his wings all right, but his beak was caught
fast in the door. No matter how he braced his feet and beat his
wings, or flapped his tail this way and that, he couldn’t get free.
No, siree! He was as fast as a clam at low tide.
“But how are we to get out unless we use the parlor?” said Lady Love.
“Besides, the front door has no spring on it. It will be mighty
inconvenient on wash day with my hands full of clothes-pins.”
“Shall we let the old bird go?” asked Little Jack Rabbit, hopping up
on the window seat to peep over the red geranium flowers in the nice
green box on the window sill.
“No, no!” answered Uncle Lucky. “Wait until I call up the Policeman
Dog and ask him what’s best to do.”
“One, two, three, Rabbitville,
Hurry up, I can’t keep still.
What’s the matter, Central? Please
Hold the wire while I sneeze,”
cried poor excited Uncle Lucky.
Pretty soon the voice of the Policeman Dog came over the wire, deep
and low, kind and soothing:
“What can I do for you, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot?”
“Oh, oh, but I’m glad to hear you say that,” answered the dear old
gentleman rabbit. “Dear me, but it’s nice and comforting to hear your
voice. Please come up here at once.”
“What for?” asked the Policeman Dog.
“Didn’t I tell you?” shouted the old gentleman bunny. “I declare,
I’m so worried and out of breath, so excited and scared to death, I
forgot to say that Hungry Hawk tried to catch us all while shelling
peas on our little back porch. I’ve pinched his big long crooked bill
between the kitchen door and the sill, but I don’t know what to do
with him.”
“I’ll come right up,” answered the kind police dog and, hanging up
the receiver, he put on his cap, picked up his big stick and trotted
off for the Old Bramble Patch.
“You’re a good friend of Uncle Lucky’s,” he said, on meeting the
Yellow Dog Tramp. “Come along with me while I tell you what has
happened to the nice old gentleman bunny.” While explaining matters,
whom should they meet but the Big Brown Bear, that friendly old
dealer in lollypops and honey balls, the friend of all the forest
folk.
“Come along with us,” said the Policeman Dog. “I’ll explain on the
way what has happened at the little rabbit’s bungalow.”
“Nothing serious, I hope,” enquired the Big Brown Bear, anxiously.
“I’m very fond of Little Jack Rabbit. It was only this morning he
bought a lollypop with a carrot cent.”
“Well, it might have been serious if brave Uncle Lucky hadn’t slammed
the kitchen door tight shut on Hungry Hawk’s bill.”
“Ha, ha,” laughed the Yellow Dog Tramp, “won’t Hungry Hawk be pleased
to see us.”
“Ha, ha, he, he!” laughed the Big Brown Bear, “I’ll tickle him under
the chin.”
“Let’s hurry faster,” said the kind Policeman Dog, and climbing over
and under the Old Rail Fence they ran up the little path to the tiny
white bungalow.
How the Police Dog and the Big Brown Bear
And the Yellow Dog Tramp with his curly hair
Laughed when they heard old Hungry Hawk
Greet them all with an angry squawk.
“What are you trying to do, old bird? Break into the little
bungalow?” asked the Policeman Dog.
“You’d better get a jimmy next time,” cried the Yellow Dog Tramp.
“Or an ax,” laughed the Big Brown Bear.
“He isn’t trying to get in,” shouted Uncle Lucky from the kitchen
window. “He’s caught fast.” You see, the dear old gentleman rabbit
didn’t know that the old robber hawk was being teased by the
Policeman Dog and his two friends.
“What shall I do with him?” asked the Policeman Dog.
“Whatever you think best,” answered Uncle Lucky.
“Please take him away,” sighed Lady Love. “I can’t go out on the back
porch and I don’t want to wear out the parlor rug.”
“Put him in jail,” shouted Little Jack Rabbit.
“I’ll please you all,” cried the Policeman Dog, and taking a pair of
handcuffs from his pocket, he snapped them around Hungry Hawk’s legs.
Then padlocking a chain around the old bird’s neck, he told Uncle
Lucky to open the kitchen door.
It took the old gentleman rabbit two or three and maybe four minutes
to untie the rope around the leg of the kitchen stove and unfasten
the other end which was twisted around the doorknob. When all this
was done, he pushed open the door.
“Whew! I’m glad to get my bill out!” gasped Hungry Hawk, shaking
himself till three feathers fell on the little back porch.
“I’ll make a quill pen,—maybe three quill pens,” said Uncle Lucky,
picking up the feathers. “Ha, ha, something good in everything. I had
intended to buy a pen at the Three-in-One Cent Store. Now I can save
a carrot cent.”
“Come along with us,” said the Policeman Dog, pulling the old Hawk
through the fence. “You’ll go to jail for a month of Sundays.”
[Illustration: “Throw up your paws!” shouted Danny Fox.]
The Big Brown Bear and the Yellow Dog Tramp followed the Policeman
Dog to see that Hungry Hawk didn’t play any tricks on his way to his
jail hotel.
“Thank you all for coming up here,” shouted dear Uncle Lucky. “You’re
good friends in time of need.”
By and by the old gentleman bunny invited the little rabbit to go for
a ride.
Everything was going along nicely when, all of a sudden, just like
that, something happened to the Luckymobile and before the old
gentleman bunny could tighten a loose screw with the monkey wrench a
voice shouted:
“What are you doing, you old rabbit man?
Now throw up your paws as quick as you can.
If you don’t you will learn what a robber can do,
I’m sure you don’t want to be bitten in two.”
“No, no, no!” cried poor Uncle Lucky. “But who are you?”
“I’ll show you,” answered the voice, and out jumped Danny Fox. Dear
me, but he looked dreadfully sly in his brown unionalls!
“Please, please don’t bite,” begged poor Uncle Lucky.
“Throw up your paws!” shouted Danny Fox.
Of course there was nothing for the old gentleman rabbit to do but
obey, so up went his paws, almost knocking off his old wedding
stovepipe hat.
“How much money have you in your pockets?” asked the old robber fox,
hardly noticing Little Jack Rabbit.
“Ten lettuce leaf dollar bills and 23 carrot cents,” answered Uncle
Lucky, in a trembly voice.
“That’s not much for a rich old rabbit gentleman like you,” growled
Danny Fox. “Haven’t you forgotten your old leather wallet?”
“No, sireebus!” replied Uncle Lucky, “but I wish you had!”
“Ha, ha!” laughed the cruel fox, “I think I’ll put you both in this
old sack and carry you home.”
“Come, come, Danny Fox,” cried Uncle Lucky. “If you do that you’ll
get only ten lettuce leaf dollar bills and 23 carrot cents. I don’t
want to be bumped about in an old flour sack.”
“What will you give me if I don’t put you in my old flour sack?”
asked that wicked robber.
“20 lettuce leaf dollar bills and 46 carrot cents,” replied poor
Uncle Lucky. “You’ll have to trust me till I go home. I’m a little
short of change to-day.”
“All right, but let me go through your pockets,” growled the old fox,
pushing his paw inside the old rabbit’s coat. Pretty soon he took out
a leather wallet.
“Ha, ha!” laughed that wicked beast, “maybe I’ll find a Liberty
Bond.” But he didn’t. No, siree! He found only a cigar coupon, two
transfers and a picture of Little Jack Rabbit in pretty colors.
“Fudge and oh, dear!” growled Danny Fox. “Take back your wallet.
Where are the lettuce leaf dollar bills?”
“In my inside vest pocket,” answered the old gentleman rabbit. But in
taking them out Danny Fox tickled dear Uncle Lucky almost to pieces!
“Ha, ha!” went the old fox. “You’re a ticklish bunny rabbit. Goodness
me, but you’re tickle-ish!”
“Tee hee! tee hee!” giggled poor Uncle Lucky, squirming this way and
that way, until all of a sudden off went his old wedding stovepipe
hat!
By this time, however, Danny Fox had the 10 lettuce leaf dollar
bills in his paw, and was just going to take the 23 carrot cents when
just like that, quick as a wink, and maybe quicker, a rope fell over
his head, yanking him backwards.
“Wow, wow, g-r-r-r-r!” coughed and choked the old robber, as the rope
grew tighter and tighter. Pretty soon his eyes almost popped out of
his head.
“You wicked old beast!” shouted a friendly voice, and the next minute
the Cowboy in Uncle Lucky’s Circus ran out from behind the trees.
“What shall I do with this old fox?” he asked, picking up the old
stovepipe hat.
“Anything you wish,” replied Uncle Lucky. “Why not take him to the
circus and lock him up in a cage? He can be one of the wild animals
the children like to look at.”
“To be sure,” said the Cowboy. “Come along,” and he gave a tug to the
rope.
“Drop my money before you say good-by, Mr. Danny Fox!” cried anxious
Uncle Lucky.
“Oh, let me go, I beg of you,
I’ll die in a circus tent.
Oh, leave me here in the forest dear
Where I never pay any rent,”
begged Danny Fox, as the Cowboy dragged him off to the Circus in
Turnip City.
“Don’t listen to him,” cautioned Uncle Lucky, who couldn’t forget
how he would have been robbed had the Cowboy not come along just in
the nick of time.
“I’ll pay no attention to the old robber,” answered the Cowboy, and
in a few minutes he was out of sight.
“Well, that’s a relief,” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, picking up the
10 lettuce leaf dollar bills. “I’m glad to get back my money.
But, goodness me! I’ll be late for supper,” and hopping into the
Luckymobile, he hurried home to Little Miss Mousie.
BUNNY TALE 18
OLD HOOTY TOOTY OWL
“When everything is going wrong
Just hum a merry little song.
Yes, hum it over twice again,
You’ll find a rainbow through the rain.
And soon the sky will turn a blue,
The rooster sing a cockle-doo,
And Bobbie Redvest from his tree
A song of joy that is to be,”
sang Lady Love, the little rabbit’s pretty mother, as her bunny boy
hopped into the kitchen.
“How do you remember all your songs?” he asked.
“I just make them up,” replied Lady Love, with a smile:
“Happiness is in the heart,
Singing all the day.
Nothing’s dull when one is glad—
Work seems just like play.”
“Ha, ha!” laughed the little bunny boy, “I think you could write
wonderful fairy stories.”
“Maybe!” answered Lady Love, with a wistful smile, as she ironed her
little son’s blouse, “but I’ve only time to dream them. Perhaps some
day we’ll find time, you and I, to fill a book with songs of our
little white bungalow.”
Just then a knock came at the kitchen door. There stood the Yellow
Dog Tramp, his old straw hat over one ear and a little tin can in his
hand—I beg your pardon, I mean paw.
“Won’t you fill my old tin cup with coffee till it’s brimming up?”
asked the good old Bow-Wow in poetry. You see, he had lived in the
woods where the birds sing and the leaves rustle and had turned into
a dog poet without knowing it.
“Come right in and you shall see
A lady bunny make turnip tea.
We have no coffee, but you won’t care
If I give you tea and a chocolate éclair,”
answered Lady Love.
“No, indeed!” answered the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I’m not particular,”
and carefully wiping his feet on the door-mat, he trotted into the
spotless little kitchen.
“My, but you look pretty in your blue apron,” he remarked, as the
lady bunny put on the kettle.
“Mother always looks pretty,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit. “She just
can’t help it.”
“That’s because she’s always doing something for somebody,” replied
the Yellow Dog Tramp. “I remember my mother was just like her, but
that was long ago before I left the farm to become a hobo dog.” I
guess the Yellow Dog Tramp was right. All mothers are pretty to boys
and girls who love them.
“Well, I must be going back to the woods. It’s growing late,”
said the old dog, after finishing three éclairs and emptying five
tea-cups. “Thank you,” and away he ran.
“Cousin Cottontail has invited us over this evening,” said Lady Love,
as she put away the dishes. “She has a new radio set. We’ll go over
in time to hear the Jack Rabbit Man tell his stories.”
“Ha, ha!” cried the little bunny, “that will be fine!” and with a
skip and a jump he hopped out on the porch where the little canary
lived in her gold cage.
“Hello! Little Rabbit,” she twittered. “What makes you so happy?”
“Didn’t you hear what mother just said?” he asked, twinkling his
pretty pink nose.
“No, what did she say?” answered the pretty yellow bird.
“That we are invited over to Cousin Cottontail’s to listen to David
Cory’s bunny stories.”
Just then out hopped Lady Love and without waiting to tie her bonnet
string, hurried after her bunny boy who was already half way to the
little gate in the brambles.
But, oh, dear me, and oh, dear all of you little boys and girls! no
sooner had these two dear bunnies reached the Old Rail Fence, about
fifteen hops and maybe two skips from the Old Bramble Patch, than
they heard somebody or something go “Toot, toot, toot!”
“Look out, mother!” cried the little bunny, and with a skiptoe
sideways they both hopped into a hollow stump. Wasn’t it lucky that
there was a hollow stump close by? Well, I just guess yes three times.
[Illustration: Old Hooty Tooty Owl grabbed up the little rabbit.]
“Who was it?” asked Lady Love, in a whisper.
“Old Hooty Tooty Owl, maybe,” answered the little bunny.
Then they both listened to hear again that disagreeable noise, but
all was still in the Shady Forest, so still that one could hardly
hear Billy Breeze among the treetops.
“Dear me, I’m afraid to hop out,” whispered the little lady bunny
rabbit mother.
“I’m not,” answered the brave little bunny, and out he hopped. But,
oh, dear me! I wish he had been more cautious and not so foolishly
brave, although I like brave little rabbit boys just the same, but
bravery and foolhardiness are two very different things, oh, my yes,
indeed.
All of a sudden, just like that, quick as the wind that blows off
your hat, Old Hooty Tooty Owl grabbed up the little rabbit and pushed
him through the window of his big Tree House.
“I’ll eat you when you’ve grown nice and fat,” tooted that wicked
night bird.
“Oh, please let me go home to mother! It will take me a long time
to grow big and fat. Maybe I’ll grow thin, instead. Yes, I’ll grow
thinner and thinner until by and by I’ll be as thin as a pin,” sobbed
the frightened bunny boy.
“Stuff and nonsense!” answered the old owl, “I’ll feed you on
lollypops and ice cream cones.”
Just then a great pounding and hammering shook the big tree.
“I wonder who that can be?” thought the bad owl, peeping out of the
window.
“Oh, I hope it’s mother with the brave Policeman Dog,” cried the poor
frightened little bunny boy.
“Keep quiet,” whispered Hooty Tooty Owl, with a scowl. “If you make
any noise I’ll twist off your head.”
Dear, oh, dear! that is a dreadful thing to hear from a big owl when
you’re only a little bunny boy rabbit.
All of a sudden the pounding sounded again, only louder than before.
“Oh, I hope it’s mother,” thought the little rabbit, as he cowered
and shivered in the corner of the wicked old owl’s sitting room. “Oh,
I hope mother knows where I am.”
The next minute there came a tremendous crash—the Old Tree House
shook from top to bottom.
“Rats and mice!” exclaimed the wicked owl. “Somebody means business.
I guess I’ll look out of the attic window,” and the old feathered
robber climbed up to the garret of his tree house, ’way up near the
topmost branches, and peeped down.
At the foot of the tree stood poor Little Lady Love, the bunny boy’s
mother, and the brave Policeman Dog.
Once again and then five times more this kind Protector of the Law
knocked on the door with his great big club. Oh, my! how he did
knock! What a thundering hub-a-dub-dub! Crash! smash! went the oak
panel, and in fell the door with a bang!!!
“Where are you, my little bunny boy?” cried Lady Love.
“Where are you, Little Jack Rabbit?” shouted the Policeman Dog.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” answered the brave little bunny boy,
“just as soon as I untie the rope.”
“Oh, hurry please,” cried Lady Love to the Policeman Dog, “my little
boy is tied fast upstairs.”
Up the rickety stairway three steps at a jump went the brave dog and
the little bunny’s mother. Pretty soon they came to a dark room, in
the farthest corner of which cowered the poor little rabbit boy bunny
prisoner.
“You untie the rope!” shouted the Policeman Dog, “I want to catch Old
Hooty Tooty,” and up the attic stairs he leaped, only this time he
made four steps at a jump.
“My poor little bunny,” cried Lady Love, as she loosened the last
knot and clasped him in her arms.
All of a sudden there sounded a dreadful squawk and away flew old
Hooty Tooty, tipsy topsy, this way and that way.
“I tickled him with my club,” laughed the Policeman Dog. “Now I’ll
see you safe home, although I guess he won’t bother little rabbits
for a long time.”
[Illustration: The old feathered robber peeped down.]
BUNNY TALE 19