Twinkles here and there a tail,
Tails of squirrels, gray and red,
Tails of feathered folk o’erhead.
If you’re patient I’ll not fail
To tell another rabbit tale.
Listen now to my story, dear little boys and girls. Here we go,
my typewriter and I, both of us together, to spin a tale of a
dear little rabbit. By the way, I’ve forgotten where we left off
a while ago. Was it about the Circus Elephant? Oh, dear, no! This
is not the time for the circus. Was it about Little Jack Rabbit
and Chippy Chipmunk? No? Well, it might have been about the old
gentleman rabbit, for I hear a horn and here comes Uncle Lucky in his
Luckymobile.
In hopped the little rabbit and away they went, honk! honk! honk!
For the Luckymobile could go like the wind
And it always left everything far behind.
Not even a deer on his swift flying feet
With the Luckymobile had a chance to compete.
All of a sudden, just like that, or the crack of a pistol, a voice
shouted:
“Stop! stop!”
“Now, who do you suppose that is?” asked the old gentleman rabbit,
returning the salute by honking the horn two times and a half, Honk!
Honk! Buzz!
“I’m sorry it’s you, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot,” said the Policeman Dog,
with a nice kind of a growl, jumping up from behind a tree. “I’d much
rather arrest Danny Fox. Yes, indeed.”
“Then why don’t you?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, with a laugh,
handing the policeman dog a ten dollar lettuce leaf bill. Goodness
me! you should have seen that Policeman Dog smile. He showed all his
teeth and his spiked collar!
“All right, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot. I’ll go down to the Three-in-One
Cent Store to buy my wife a new washing board,” and off he ran to get
this lovely present.
“Let’s be a little more careful,” advised Uncle Lucky, when once more
on their way. “I have with me only three hundred ten dollar lettuce
leaf bills and I don’t want to spend them all before reaching home.
“When I was young, oh, me, or you!
Tra la loo, tra la loo!
I used to dance ’most every night
Until the sun was shining bright.
But now I ride in my little Tin Liz
Because of my bothery rheumatiz!”
Now while the two little bunnies were speeding home to Uncle Lucky’s
little white house a great com-mo-tion was going on in the Shady
Forest.
For almost two hours Grandmother Magpie had watched the big stranger
tear up the trees. But as soon as he began to build a house, away she
flew to spread the news.
“I have something to tell you!” cried the old lady Magpie, as pretty
Lady Love opened the kitchen door in the Old Bramble Patch to see who
was knocking.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” she sighed, and maybe her voice sounded a
little bit disappointed for she didn’t like Old Mother Mischief, not
the least little bit.
“Oh, yes, I’ve some wonderful news,” answered the old lady Magpie,
fluttering up on the window-sill. “What do you think? There’s a big
elephant in the Shady Forest.”
“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Lady Love. “Maybe it’s Little Jack
Rabbit’s friend, the Circus Elephant.”
“That’s just who it is,” agreed Grandmother Magpie, “for I saw him
practicing all kinds of funny tricks. Why, he stood on his head and
waved a little American flag with his tail. Then he sat on a big blue
barrel and blew a bugle.”
“Gracious me!” laughed Lady Love, “I wish Little Jack Rabbit were
home.”
“Where is he?” asked Grandmother Magpie, for she was a very curious
person, let me tell you.
“Over at his Uncle Lucky’s,” answered Lady Love. “I’m going to call
him up on the telephone,” and at once the dear little lady rabbit
hopped into the hall and rang up, “One, two, three, Rabbitville, U.
S. A.” In a few minutes Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot’s voice answered.
“Helloa, who is it?” No sooner had Lady Love told him the news than
he shut off the telephone and called to Little Jack Rabbit, who was
out in the garden eating lettuce sandwiches.
[Illustration: “Please don’t wiggle!”]
“Little Jack Rabbit! Your Elephant circus friend is in the Shady
Forest.” Then you should have seen that little rabbit hop into the
house.
“Let’s ride over in the Luckymobile. I haven’t seen my elephant
friend since the circus.”
Pretty soon as they passed the Big Brown Bear’s Cozy Cave they were
surprised to see that big brown furry animal sitting outside in the
sunshine having his picture taken.
“Please don’t wiggle,
Please don’t sneeze
If I tickle both your knees,”
they heard Photographer Crane say as he squeezed the little rubber
ball.
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. “How often does
the Big Brown Bear have his photograph taken?”
“Oh, I know why,” cried the little rabbit. “I guess the one he took
the other day didn’t turn out well.”
“Heigh diddle diddle,
And heigh diddle di,
The cat has been eating
A little mouse pie,”
sang dear Uncle Lucky.
“Who’s singing?” all of a sudden, just like that, enquired a voice
through the trees. But the two little rabbits made no answer,
thinking it might be Old Man Weasel.
“Hush!” whispered Uncle Lucky. “Who do you suppose it is?”
“I don’t know,” answered the little rabbit, taking his pop-gun from
his knapsack.
Again the same voice began to sing:
“I was always content when on pleasure bent,
Heigh hoo and a bottle of pop.
But no longer I’ll roam for I’ve built me a home,
And here in the forest I’ll stop.”
“It’s my elephant friend,” laughed the little rabbit. “I know his
voice.” Just then they came in sight of a big log house. At the front
door on a three-legged stool sat the kind Elephant, smoking a big
cigar.
Well, sir! You should have seen those two dear little rabbits hop out
of the Luckymobile! Why, Uncle Lucky hopped out so quickly that his
old wedding stovepipe hat fell off his head and rolled on top of a
little ant hill. It took the poor little ant and her four thousand
nine hundred and ninety-nine uncles and cousins and sisters almost
an hour to push it off, but Uncle Lucky was too busy talking to the
Elephant to notice what was going on.
Well, by and by, when there was nothing more to talk over, except the
folks at home and the new baby across the way, Little Jack Rabbit
said;
“Come out for a ride in the Luckymobile,
It’s such a long time since you went.
We’ll sure bring you back to your little log shack.
Do you like it as well as a tent?”
“I like it better in the winter,” answered the Elephant. “But I’ve
had lots of fun at the circus! Do you remember one day last summer I
shouted, ‘Give me a peanut!’”
[Illustration: “Give me a peanut!”]
“Of course I do,” answered the bunny boy.
“Well, don’t let’s talk of that now. We’ll go Luckymobiling.”
Locking the door of his log hut, he put the key in an empty bird’s
nest and climbed into the Luckymobile. And as soon as Uncle Lucky
had picked up his old wedding stovepipe hat and put on his goggles,
away they went.
“Oh, isn’t it fine to be skimming along
In the Luckymobile with a laugh and a song
And maybe a whistle, and maybe a toot,
As over the roadway we rapidly scoot,”
merrily sang the dear old gentleman rabbit.
“Gee Willie Kins!” exclaimed the Elephant. “Aren’t we going fast?”
“Not a bit!” answered Uncle Lucky, smiling as the Elephant held on to
his big ears for fear they’d blow off of his head.
“Dear, dear!” he cried, “I can’t get my breath!” After which, of
course, the old gentleman rabbit slowed down, not wishing to make his
elephant friend too cross.
Well, by and by, after a while, they came to a little hotel. On the
big sign-board that creaked above the front door when the wind blew,
was written:
“Everybody Inn.”
“Good gracious meebus!” giggled the old gentleman rabbit, “if
everybody’s in will there be room for us?” And he laughed so hard at
his own joke that his old wedding stovepipe hat fell over one ear and
he couldn’t hear what the Elephant said.
“Let’s get out and have an ice cream cone,” suggested Little Jack
Rabbit. Just like every little boy and girl I know—crazy over ice
cream cones.
“All right,” agreed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping out to tie the
Luckymobile to the old hitching post in front of the inn. Then
hopping up on the piazza, they all sat down at a little round green
table and waited for some one to take their order.
Well, after a minute or maybe three a little white duck in a pink
apron waddled out and asked:
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“Ice cream cones for three,” answered Uncle Lucky, just like that.
So back into the hotel waddled the little white duck, returning
presently with a silver tray on which were three ice cream cones,
three lady fingers and three little paper napkins with roses in the
corner. But, oh, dear me! the Elephant ate so fast that he got a
dreadful headache and had to lie down in the hammock. And, oh, dear
me! again. The next minute the hammock broke down with a terrible
bump and out ran the little white duck to see what all the noise was
about.
“Mercy me!” she said. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’d feel a lot worse had I hurt any one as badly,” answered the
Elephant, rubbing his left hind leg with his trunk and wiping his
eyes with Uncle Lucky’s blue silk polkadot handkerchief, which the
old gentleman rabbit had politely handed to him.
“Perhaps you’d better take me back to my little house in the Shady
Forest,” sighed the Circus Elephant. So away they went to his little
log hut.
But when he went to look for the front door key in the empty bird’s
nest, it wasn’t there.
“What shall I do?” he asked, sitting down and resting his trunk on
the front door-step. “How am I to get in?”
Just then who should come by but Grandmother Magpie. Now you know
that magpies are very mischievous, picking up and carrying away all
sorts of things. So as soon as Little Jack Rabbit saw Grandmother
Mischief, he shouted:
“If you have taken the elephant’s key
You’ll soon be sorry as sorry can be.
For I’ll go tell Professor Crow,
And then you’ll be more sorry, I know.
For he’ll tell Mr. Owl and Mr. Mouse
You’ve stolen the key to the elephant’s house.”
Well, sir! As soon as that mischievous old magpie heard that she
looked in her little black vanity bag.
“Is this it?” she asked, holding up a big brass key.
“Let me try it,” answered the elephant, taking the key in the little
finger on the end of his trunk and fitting it to the lock. But when
he looked around Old Grandmother Magpie had flown away. Yes, sir,
she hadn’t waited a minute. I guess she didn’t want him to point his
little finger at her and say:
“You’re a thief, you’re a thief!
Better hide behind a leaf
Or take wing and fly away,
So you won’t hear people say;
‘You will have to go to jail
And wear a handcuff on your tail!’”
Well, after that, the two little rabbits said good-by to the Elephant
and turned off for home.
As the Luckymobile spun along Uncle Lucky began to sing, for he was a
very musical old rabbit and had a lovely tenor voice.
“If you’re not old enough to go
To see a lovely movie show,
You’re old enough I know to play
That you’re a hero every day.”
By and by, after a while, the Luckymobile stopped at his little white
house.
Oh, the little shady front porch
Is quite the coolest spot,
And in the hammock one may swing
When it is piping hot.
The little sparrow in her nest
Upon the topmost beam
Is telling to her little ones
A pretty fairy dream.
And while she sings so soft and low
Dear Uncle Lucky down below
Goes sound to sleep, and on the floor
His book falls from his tired paw.
“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. “Did
I go to sleep?”
“Cock-a-doodle-do!” laughed the Old Red Rooster, who was cutting the
grass.
Rubbing his eyes, dear Uncle Lucky looked around for Little Jack
Rabbit, but he couldn’t see him anywhere although he peeped in the
croquet box and behind the big horse-chestnut tree.
You see, if his little rabbit nephew wasn’t near him all the time the
old gentleman bunny felt mighty lonely.
Just then Little Jack Rabbit with two ice cream cones in his right
front paw, hopped up the front walk. You should have seen Uncle Lucky
smile. He smiled so hard that his old wedding stovepipe hat dropped
off his head and his blue silk polkadot handkerchief bow twisted up
under his left ear.
“Oh, that’s the nicest thing you could bring this hot day,” he
exclaimed, after which he didn’t say a word until the ice cream cone
was safely tucked under his pink waistcoat.
Pretty soon all the little Cousin Cottontails happened in. At once
dear generous Uncle Lucky opened a big box of lollypops and they all
had a lovely feast.
By and by when the lollypops were all gone where good lollypops go,
and the little Cottontails had hopped home to the Old Brush Heap, all
of a sudden there sounded a loud chirping from the pasture just back
of the house. Off the porch hopped the two bunnies, lipperty lip,
clipperty clip, to see what was the matter. Oh, dear me, it was a sad
sight that met their eyes on reaching the old apple tree in the green
pasture. A young cowbird, hatched from an egg which her lazy mother
had laid in a Yellow Throat’s nest, was pushing out the little Yellow
Throats. One by one with her beak she lifted them over the edge of
the nest, and as the poor little things were too young to fly, they
fell to the ground.
“Isn’t that a shame?” cried kind Uncle Lucky, hopping back to the
tool house for a ladder. Placing it against the old apple tree, he
carried the little Yellow Throats up to their nest.
“What are you going to do with the Cowbird?” asked Little Jack
Rabbit. The old gentleman rabbit scratched his head, not knowing just
what to do. You see, he had such a kind heart that he didn’t want to
hurt it, although it had been so cruel to the little Yellow Throats.
I wish every one had as kind a heart.
“I’ve got an idea!” all of a sudden, just like that, answered Uncle
Lucky. “I’ll put her in the little empty bird house,” and away he
hopped with the Cowbird under his right front paw.
“Get the ladder,” he shouted. As soon as Little Jack Rabbit had
placed it against the tall white pole that stood in the middle of
the lawn the old gentleman rabbit climbed up and placed the Cowbird
in the birdhouse.
“Goodness me!” he said, scrambling down to the ground, “it will be
some job to feed that hungry bird,” and he took off his wedding
stovepipe hat to scratch his left ear.
“Who will feed this little bird
Until his wings grow strong?
’Twill be an awful job, I think,
And keep me all day long.”
“We’ll help,” answered Mr. and Mrs. Yellow Throat. Wasn’t that kind
of them? Next, little Mrs. Sparrow fluttered over from the front
porch and said she’d do her best to keep little Cowbird from starving.
“Well, that’s very kind of you all,” said the old gentleman rabbit.
“I’ll dig some worms right away,” and over to the tool-house he
hopped for his spade.
“Oh, never harm a bird that flies
Up in the country of the skies,
Or twitters in the Shady tree,
For God has made them to be free.
Oh, never harm four-footed folk;
Nor play on them an unkind joke
For God has made them, one and all,
From tiny ant to giraffe tall.”
Now who do you suppose sang this song? Even dear Uncle Lucky didn’t
know. As the voice seemed to come through the open window of the old
gentleman rabbit’s little white house, in he hopped to find out. And
what do you suppose he discovered? Why, the graphophone playing away
all by itself. Wasn’t that wonderful? Well, I just guess it was. But
then there are lots of wonderful things now-a-days. Ships that fly
through the air and under the water and little boys and girls who are
growing up to be kind-hearted men and women.
BUNNY TALE 23
THE RAGGED RABBIT GIANT
Oh, lovely roses come in June,
The Bubbling Brook has learned a tune,
And all the birds on bush and tree
Are singing songs for you and me.
“Ha, ha,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, as he hopped over the Sunny
Meadow, “I wonder if Timmie Meadowmouse is home.”
Pretty soon the little bunny stopped before a round grass ball that
hung between three strong stalks.
“Timmie Meadowmouse!” he shouted, “come out and play!” Pretty soon a
tiny head peeked out of the grass house and a little voice answered:
“Oh, it’s you, is it?”
“Yes, it’s me,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, although he should have
said, “It’s I.” But what do we care? Teacher isn’t around and school
will soon be over and we will be in clover.
“What do you want?” asked the little meadowmouse, jumping down to the
ground. “How is Uncle Lucky?”
“He’s all right,” answered the little bunny. “Have you heard what a
dreadful time we had with Hungry Hawk?”
“No, tell me about it,” replied Timmie Meadowmouse. “Dear me, how I
do hate that wicked bird. He’s always flying over the Sunny Meadow,
looking here and looking there. But I always try to be here when he’s
looking there,” and Timmie Meadowmouse winked his eye like a wise
little mouse boy.
“Oh, we had a dreadful time the other day,” went on Little Jack
Rabbit. “Hungry Hawk almost pushed in through the kitchen door. If
Uncle Lucky hadn’t slammed it on his hooked beak, making him fast, I
don’t believe the Policeman Dog could have caught him.”
“You don’t say so,” exclaimed Timmie Meadowmouse.
“Yes, I do,” answered the little bunny boy. “And pretty soon after
we had tied the door tight so that the old hawk couldn’t pull away
his beak, the Policeman Dog arrived and arrested him. Now he’s in the
jail house in Rabbitville.”
“Then I shall have some peace for a while,” laughed the timid little
meadowmouse. “Oh, I’m so glad!” and he skipped over the meadow and
after him hopped the little bunny boy. By and by, after a while, but
not nearly a mile, they came to the Old Rail Fence, on the top of
which sat Chippy Chipmunk in his striped fur jacket.
“What makes you two fellows so frisky?” he asked.
“Oh, just because we’re happy,” answered the little meadowmouse.
“That’s it,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “When you’re happy your feet
just skiptoe over the ground. You almost think you’re flying.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” said a voice, all of a sudden, just like that.
Dear me, I suppose I should have kept you from worrying by telling
you right off whose voice it was that shouted “Stuff and nonsense!”
It was Grandmother Magpie’s. That’s whose voice it was. And the old
lady blackbird looked most forbidding, let me tell you. Oh, yes, she
did, and no mistake about it.
“Good morning,” said the little bunny boy.
“I hope you’re well,” cried Timmie Meadowmouse.
“It’s a lovely day,” chimed in Chippy Chipmunk.
“What were you saying about flying?” asked Grandmother Magpie, with a
toss of her head.
“Dear me, I’ve forgotten,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. “I was so happy
a minute ago and now I’ve forgotten what made me so.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” went on Grandmother Magpie,
sometimes called Old Mother Mischief because she is always
interfering in other people’s business.
“Mother told me not to answer your questions,” replied Little Jack
Rabbit.
“What?” almost screamed Grandmother Magpie.
“Yes, she did,” went on the little bunny boy rabbit, brave as a
lion,—a little lion, of course,—not a great big one. “She said you
meddled too much with every one’s affairs.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” snapped old lady blackbird, and without
another word she flew away.
“Oh, isn’t she mad,” laughed Chippy Chipmunk.
“Serves her right,” cried Timmie Meadowmouse. “She’s the most
disagreeable thing in the whole Shady Forest.”
[Illustration: “Oh, she did, did she?”]
“Don’t forget Old Man Weasel,” said Little Jack Rabbit.
“Nor Danny Fox,” chirped Bobbie Redvest. “Guess I’ll go with you.”
“Come along,” answered the little bunny boy. “I’m on my way to Cozy
Cave to see the Big Brown Bear,” and away he hopped, lipperty lip,
clipperty clip, up the Shady Forest Trail, in and out among the
trees, through the glen and up the wooded hillside till he reached
Mr. Bear’s dwelling place.
“My, but I’m tired,” sighed the little bunny boy rabbit, seating
himself on the big wooden bench just outside the Cozy Cave. “I wonder
where the Big Brown Bear has gone,” and he looked this way and that
way, up and down, back and forth, but no big brown fur overcoat came
into view.
By and by, not so very long, the little rabbit boy bunny fell asleep.
At first he closed only one eye, his left eye. Then he opened it and
shut his right eye. After a little he closed them both for a minute,
but the next time he forgot to open them.
Dear, dear me! I hope nothing dreadful happens to Little Jack Rabbit
before he wakes up.
Pretty soon as the little rabbit slept on who should come tiptoeing
by but Old Man Weasel. Dear, dear me! No sooner did he see Little
Jack Rabbit than he tip-toed even more softly around the big tree.
Then he peeked out, first on one side and then on the other. I
suppose he thought the Big Brown Bear might be in his cave wrapping
up Lollypops and Ice Cream Cones.
By and by the old weasel grew bolder. Nobody came around and the
little bunny boy rabbit kept on sleeping, oh, so peacefully, dreaming
about red clover tops and carrot candies and ’licious lollypops and
marshmallow drops.
“Ha, ha!” cried the old weasel, softly, just to himself, you know,
as he sneaked on his tippy toes toward the Cozy Cave. “Ha, ha! Won’t
I have a nice dinner,” he whispered, smacking his lips,—yes, he
smacked them again!
“Wake up!” shouted Bobbie Redvest so loudly that Little Jack Rabbit
woke up with a start. And then right over the wicked Weasel he hopped
just like a frog and away through the Shady Forest until he bumped
right into the Big Brown Bear.
“Oh, dear, and oh, dear!” he cried. “I’m glad it’s you, but why
didn’t you come sooner?”
“Why?” asked the nice kind old bear with a good-natured grin. “Better
late than never.”
“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” answered the frightened little bunny boy rabbit.
“But if you’d only come two minutes ago I’d still be dreaming I was
eating lemon drops and lollypops, clover tops and marshmallow drops.”
“Well, I’m glad I waited,” replied the Big Brown Bear. “If you had
eaten much more you’d have been, and maybe you will be, twisted into
a double bowknot by a tummy ache.”
“What?” cried the little rabbit.
“Well, perhaps not,” laughed the big bear. “Come, turn around and go
home with me. I’ll give you a drink of Cranberry Tea.”
Then arm in arm, although of course the Big Brown Bear had to lean
way over and way down, they both went up the Shady Forest Trail till
they came to the Cozy Cave. Of course Old Man Weasel was nowhere
to be seen, although they both looked for him here and there and
everywhere. At last the Big Brown Bear said:
“Maybe you dreamed about him.”
“No, no, no! I can remember all my dreams,” cried the little bunny
boy rabbit. “And sometimes I feel I’m dreaming all day, I’ve formed
such a strange dreamy habit.”
“Gracious me!” exclaimed the Big Brown Bear. “You’re a queer little
bunny boy. You’re a Peter Pan Bunny, so you are.”
“Tell me a story, won’t you?” asked Little Jack Rabbit, hopping up on
the bench beside the Big Brown Bear. “Tell me a story. I love to hear
about rabbit giants and bunny dwarfs.”
“Ho, hum,” sighed the Big Brown Bear, “I’m not much of a story
teller. Let me see. Maybe I can remember one that my old grandmother
told me when I was a cub. My, but that’s a long time ago. I hope my
memory is as good as my appetite.”
“Please hurry,” begged the little rabbit boy bunny.
“Well, here we go,” laughed the good-natured bear. “Once upon a
time there lived a rabbit giant who had only one tooth. But it was
an immense big tooth. Oh, my, yes. It was so long that it came down
beyond his lip about two inches. This made him look very fierce, oh,
very fierce indeed, and all the rabbits and bunnies and hares for
miles and miles around were afraid of him. They hardly dared to pass
his big dark bungalow, half hidden in a scraggly bramble patch in a
stony, barren field.
“One day as the Ragged Rabbit Giant (for he lived all by himself
without wife or children and so had nobody to mend his clothes and
teach him to be polite) hopped out of his broken-down, disorderly
bungalow, whom should he meet but a fairy bunny. Such a pretty fairy
lady bunny rabbit.
“‘Oh, my, oh, dear, oh, me, oh, my!’ she exclaimed, ‘why don’t you
get a hair cut and a new suit of clothes? And why don’t you mend your
bramble patch bungalow house?’
“‘What’s the use?’ replied the big rabbit man. ‘I’m so big and homely
and one-toothed that nobody cares about me. All the bunny boys and
rabbit girls are afraid of me, and I’ve grown so lonesome. No one
comes to see me, only a friendly fly and a little black cricket.’
“‘You seem to have a kind heart,’ said the lady bunny fairy queen,
although I didn’t mention before that she was a queen. But she is,
just the same.
“‘Are you very lonely and unhappy?’ she asked, as the big bunny giant
gave a tre-men-dous sigh.
“‘Oh, yes,’ he answered, ‘I’m so lonely that it hurts.’