rubber doormat on a wet day. But look at this thing which I dug up
just before the fox jumped for me. I think it is a diamond, and if it
is, I will get rich, and I can go home and see my little rabbit
grandchildren, Sammie and Susie Littletail." Then he held out to the
slippery eel the shining object he had found in the sand.
"Alas! Alas!" sorrowfully exclaimed the eel, as he looked at the
shining thing.
"What's the matter; isn't it a diamond?" asked the rabbit.
Then the slippery eel said this in a sing-song voice:
"Alas, alas,
'Tis only glass.
It is no good
To eat for food.
It will not do
For me or you.
Throw it away;
Some other day
Your fortune may
Come past your way."
"Ha, I did not know you could make up verses," said the rabbit in
surprise.
"I didn't know it, either," answered the eel. "That is the first time
I have ever done such a thing," and once more he dug his tail down
into the sand, real modest-like and shy.
"Well, if that is only glass, instead of a diamond, I may as well
throw it away," said the rabbit.
"Yes," agreed the eel, and with a flip of his tail he sent the glass
spinning out into the heaving ocean.
"More bad luck for me," thought the rabbit, but he did not give up,
and, bidding good-by to the slippery eel the rabbit set off down the
beach to look for his fortune once more.
By this time it had stopped raining and he didn't need the toadstool
umbrella, so he stuck it up in the sand in order that the next person
who came along might sit under it and get out of the sun.
Well, Uncle Wiggily went on and on. He saw the children in bathing,
and building sand houses, and he saw the fishermen going out to sea to
catch fishes and lobsters, but still he couldn't see anything of his
fortune.
Then, pretty soon, in a little while, not so very long, the old
gentleman rabbit came to a place on the sand where there was a little
white card. And on the card was some writing, which read:
"DIG HERE AND SEE WHAT YOU
CAN FIND."
"Ha, hum! I wonder what that means," thought Uncle Wiggily, as he sat
down on the sand to rest himself. "I wonder if that can be a trick?"
He had been fooled so many times that he made up his mind to be
careful now. So he looked all around, but he couldn't see anything
that looked like danger.
To be sure, there were some bushes up on the beach, a little way off,
but there seemed to be no one in them. And there was no one on the
beach near where the rabbit was.
"I guess I'll take a chance and dig," thought Uncle Wiggily. So he
laid aside his valise and crutch and began to dig in the sand with a
clam-shell. Deeper and deeper he went down until he began to feel
something hard.
"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed. "I guess I'm getting close to it. This must be
a chest of gold or diamonds that the pirates or robbers buried in the
sand years ago. Now, I'll dig it up and I'll be rich. This is a lucky
day for me!"
So he dug deeper and still deeper until he had partly uncovered
something black and round. He thought sure it was a chest of gold, and
he dug faster and faster, until all of a sudden something slipped in
the sand and rolled out into the hole Uncle Wiggily had dug, and,
before he knew it, he found himself slipping down and there he was,
held fast by one paw, under a big black stone. It was a stone he had
found under the sand and not a chest of gold at all.
At first he was too surprised to say or do anything, and then, as his
foot began to pain him, he cried out:
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I'm caught in a trap, and I can't get out!"
"No, indeed, you can't get out!" exclaimed a voice at the edge of the
hole, and, looking up, the rabbit saw a big wolf.
"Oh, did you put that card there on the sand, telling me to dig?"
asked Uncle Wiggily reproachful-like.
"I did," answered the wolf, showing his teeth in a most impolite grin.
"I wanted to catch you under the stone and I did. The stone rolled out
of the sand when you had dug down deep enough to loosen it, and now
you are fast. I'm going to jump down on you presently, and tickle you
until your ribs ache."
Well, Uncle Wiggily felt pretty bad on hearing this, and he didn't
know what to do. The wolf was getting ready to spring down on him,
when, all at once the rabbit heard a voice whispering down to him:
"Say, Uncle Wiggily, you just ask that wolf if he is a good jumper.
He'll say he is, and then you ask him if he can jump on top of the
round stone he sees on the sand near the hole. He'll say he can, for
he is very proud, but, instead of jumping on a stone, he'll jump on
me, and then I'll stick him with my sharp tail, and he'll run away.
Then I'll help you get loose."
"But who are you?" asked the rabbit, somewhat puzzled.
"I am the horseshoe crab," was the answer. "I'm up here on the sand,
and I look just like a stone, and I'll pretend I really am one. The
wolf can't understand my talk, so it's safe. You just ask him to jump
on me."
So Uncle Wiggily looked up at the wolf, and said:
"Mr. Wolf, since you are going to tickle me anyhow, would you mind
showing me what a good jumper you are before you do it?"
"Of course not!" said the wolf, who was very proud of his jumping.
"I'll jump anywhere you say, and then I'll jump down and get you."
"Very well," said Uncle Wiggily, slow and sad-like, "just jump on that
round stone up there on the beach, will you?"
"I will," said the wolf, and he didn't know that what he thought was a
stone was only the horseshoe crab waiting to stick him with his sharp
tail.
So the bad wolf gave one big jump up into the air, and down on top of
the horseshoe crab he came, and the crab just stuck up his sharp
pointed tail, and it tickled that wolf in the ribs so very much that
the wolf had to laugh whether he wanted to or not, and he laughed so
hard that he had a conniption fit, and so he couldn't get the rabbit.
Then the horseshoe crab dug away the sand around the stone, and helped
Uncle Wiggily get his leg out, and the rabbit was safe, and he thanked
the crab, and hopped away and the wolf didn't get him after all.
So that's all to-night, if you please, but the next Bedtime Story will
be about Uncle Wiggily and the pink shell--that is if the red lobster
doesn't pinch the stove's legs and make it dance a hornpipe on top of
the washtubs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
STORY XII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SHELL
Uncle Wiggily was lame the next day after he had been caught under the
stone when the wolf nearly got him, and the horseshoe crab had dug him
out. You see the stone pressed on his leg that had rheumatism in it,
and it hurt the old gentleman rabbit very much.
But he was quite brave, and when he got up in the morning, even though
he could hardly limp along, he decided that he would hop down the
sandy beach at the seashore and see if he couldn't find his fortune
there.
"It is certainly taking me quite a long time to get rich," he said to
himself as he slowly moved along over the soft sand, "and perhaps I
may never find any diamonds or gold. But no matter, I am enjoying
myself, and that is something. Still, I would like to see Sammie and
Susie Littletail again."
And when he thought of the two little rabbit children he was a bit
sad. Then he decided that would never do, so he cheered himself up by
singing a little song that went something like this:
"Don't be sad,
Just be glad,
For the sun is shining.
Don't be blue,
For it's true
Clouds have silver lining.
"Sing and dance,
Hop and prance,
Make some one feel jolly,
Go 'way, care,
Don't you dare
Make me melancholy."
"Ha, hum! I feel much better after that," said Uncle Wiggily, and he
moved his whiskers sideways and up and down, and twinkled his nose,
and then he went on looking for his fortune.
Pretty soon he came to a big snail that was crawling slowly along the
beach.
"Have you seen any gold?" asked the rabbit.
"No, I am sorry to say I have not," said the snail, slowly and
carefully. "But I have not gone very far this morning. I have only
traveled about as far as from one orange seed to another, and that is
not very far, you know. Perhaps later I may find some gold."
"Then have you seen any diamonds?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"No, but I saw a dewdrop inside a flower sparkling in the sunshine,"
said the snail, "and it was brighter than a diamond."
"That is very pretty, but it is not my fortune," said the rabbit. "I
must keep on." So on he went, singing his jolly song, and he kept
humming it, even when the sun went behind a cloud, and it looked as if
it were going to storm. The waves of the ocean grew into big billows,
and they dashed up on the beach with a booming, thundering sound.
"I think we are going to have a shower," said the old gentleman
rabbit. "I must look about for another toadstool umbrella." So he
found one growing in the grass a little distance from the water, and
he picked it. Then, strapping his valise over his shoulder, he hopped
ahead, leaning on his crutch.
Pretty soon, not so very long, it began to rain. My! how the drops did
come pelting down, harder and harder, but Uncle Wiggily didn't get wet
because of his toadstool umbrella. And then, before you could eat a
stick of peppermint candy, something hard hit the old gentleman rabbit
on the nose.
"Ha! My umbrella must be leaking!" he cried. Then there came a flash
of lightning, and a loud clap of thunder, and something else hit Uncle
Wiggily on the end of his nose.
"Oh, I hope I'm not struck by lightning!" he cried. So he looked up,
and he saw that his toadstool umbrella was full of holes, and the
reason of this was that it was hailing instead of raining. The rain
drops had turned into little round chunks of ice, just like white
pebbles, and they were pelting down, and had torn the rabbit's
umbrella all to pieces.
"Whatever shall I do?" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he tossed aside the
toadstool. "That is of no use to me now, and there is no place where I
can go to get in out of the rain. Oh, my! How those hailstones hurt!"
And indeed they did, for they were as large as bird's eggs now, and
they were bouncing down all over, and hitting Uncle Wiggily on his
ears and nose and all over.
He tried to hold his crutch over his head, but that did no good, and
then he tried to hold up his valise with the cherry pie in it to
shelter himself, but that did no good, either.
"Oh, I'll be knocked to pieces by the hailstones!" the rabbit cried.
"Where can I go? Oh, if I only had a shell house such as the snail
carries on her back, I would be all right."
"Here is a house for you!" cried a little voice, and looking to one
side Uncle Wiggily saw his old friend the grasshopper, and that
grasshopper was beneath a big pink shell that was on the beach, with
one edge raised up like a shed. "Crawl under the shell, and the
hailstone can't hurt you!" went on the hoppergrass. "This pink shell
is the best kind of a house."
"Well, I do declare--so it is!" agreed Uncle Wiggily, and he lost no
time in crawling under the pink shell which was just the color of
baby's cheeks. Then how the hailstones did rattle down on that shell!
It was just like peas or dried corn falling into a tin pan.
Rattle-te-bang! Rattle-te-bang! went the hailstones, but they couldn't
hurt the grasshopper or Uncle Wiggily now, for the chunks of ice hit
on the hard shell and burst to pieces.
Then, all of a sudden Uncle Wiggily heard some one crying. Oh, it was
such a sad, pitiful voice.
"Oh, what shall I do? Where can I go?" wailed the voice.
"Some one needs help," said the rabbit quickly.
"Maybe it's a bear," suggested the hoppergrass.
"Nonsensicalness!" exclaimed the rabbit. "I'm going to look out." So
he peered out from under the edge of the big pink shell, and he saw a
little baby crab crawling along with a basket of seapeanuts in little
bags on one claw.
"Oh, I'm so miserable!" cried the little crab. "I started out to sell
peanuts, but the hailstones burst the bags open, and the peanuts came
out and they're all wet, and no one will buy wet peanuts. What shall I
do?"
"Come right in here," said Uncle Wiggily kindly. "We'll help you." So
the little crab crawled beneath the pink shell, where the hailstones
couldn't hit him, and when the storm was over the old gentleman rabbit
and the grasshopper built a fire, and they dried out the peanuts. Then
the grasshopper took some of his molasses and he glued the torn bags
together, and Uncle Wiggily put back the dry peanuts in them, and then
the little crab went off very happy, indeed, and sold them for a penny
a bag.
"Ha! The pink shell did us a great kindness," said the old gentleman
rabbit, as he hopped out. "Now I will look once more for my fortune."
Then the grasshopper flew away over the sea again and the rabbit went
on alone, eating a few peanuts the baby crab had given him.
And he soon had another adventure. What it was I'll tell you soon, for
the story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the fiddler--that is, if the
piano stool doesn't turn into a merry-go-'round and whirl about so
fast that it makes the milk bottle dizzy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
STORY XIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FIDDLER
It was the day after Uncle Wiggily had taken shelter under the pink
shell when the hailstones came down, and the old gentleman rabbit was
walking along the sandy beach, looking to see what he could see.
"You never can tell when you are going to find your fortune in this
world," he said, "and I may come upon mine any moment. So I must be
ready for it." Then he went on a little farther, and he felt hungry.
"Perhaps there is a bit of cherry pie still in my valise," he said. So
he looked, and, sure enough, there was some pie, and he ate it.
It was nearly all gone, and there were only a few crumbs of the pie
left, when the old gentleman rabbit heard some one say:
"Oh, how hungry I am! Oh, if I only had something to eat. I wonder
where I can find anything?"
Then the rabbit looked down, and there was the slow-crawling snail,
looking very hungry indeed.
"Oh, ho! So it's you, is it?" asked the rabbit. "Why, it seems to me
you are not very far from the place where I last saw you."
"That is so, I am not," answered the snail. "You see I go very slowly
and in a whole day I only moved about as far as an ice-cream cone. I
have been looking for something to eat, but I can't find it."
"Oh, I'll gladly give you what I have left," spoke Uncle Wiggily, as
he scattered the crumbs of the cherry pie about, and the snail ate
them all up.
"I don't s'pose you have seen anything of my fortune, have you?" asked
the rabbit, as he wiped his whiskers on a red napkin, and closed up
his valise.
"No, I haven't," said the snail. "But I will tell you something I
overheard to-day and perhaps that will help you. As I was crawling
slowly along I heard two sand fleas talking together. One said to the
other that there was going to be a grand dance of all the sand fleas
on the beach to-night and that there would be plenty of gold and
diamonds at the party. Perhaps if you went to it you might find your
fortune--that is, if some one had any gold or diamonds they didn't
want."
"That's a good idea," said the rabbit. "I'll be there, and I'm much
obliged to you for telling me. Where do the sand fleas hold their
dance?"
"Down on the beach by the wreck of the old sailing ship," answered the
snail. "Be there at the hour of midnight, and I hope you will find
your fortune."
"I'll be there," said the rabbit. "Oh, I'll be there."
Then the snail crawled away, and Uncle Wiggily hopped along on the
sand, but he didn't look for his fortune as he thought he would find
it at the fleas' party.
"Since I am going to be up quite late to-night," he said, "I had
better take a little sleep now." So he stretched out under some
seaweed that he laid over some driftwood for a shady shelter and soon
he was fast asleep. Then, after a while, he awakened and ate his
supper and soon it was midnight, and he set off toward the place where
the wreck of the old ship was on the beach, for there the sand fleas
were to have their hop and dance.
As he came near the place, the old gentleman rabbit heard laughter and
talking, and he saw tiny lights flitting about. Then he came still
nearer, and he saw a most curious sight. All around in the sand were
little pieces of wood, set in a circle, and on each piece of wood was
a lightning bug. They lighted up the place like small electric
lanterns.
There was a large circle of sand, and inside of that was the ballroom
where the dance was to take place. It was all decorated with seaweed
and moss, and it looked very pretty with lightning bugs scattered here
and there in the green drapery like fairy lights.
And then the sand fleas! Oh, there were hundreds of them, and they
were hopping all about, sometimes over each other's backs and around
corners and through the middle, while some even turned somersaults,
and they were having a glorious time.
"I wonder when the dance is going to begin?" thought Uncle Wiggily. "I
wish it would soon start, for I see that these fleas have on many
diamonds, and they also have lots of gold in their pockets. Perhaps,
when they dance they will drop some of the gold and diamonds, and, in
case they don't want them, I can pick them up and have them for my
fortune."
Then, all of a sudden, some of the fleas began to cry out:
"Where is the music? Why doesn't the music start, so that we can
dance?"
And surely enough, there was no music for the party. Then a big gray
flea called out:
"Alas, and lack-a-day! We will have no music! I had hired a dozen
Katy-Dids and a dozen Katy-Didn'ts to come and play for us, but they
have just telephoned that they can't come, as their legs are stiff. So
we can have no dance, as we have no music."
"Oh, how perfectly dreadful!" cried a blue lady flea.
And just then some of the other fleas saw Uncle Wiggily looking in at
them from behind the old wrecked ship.
"Perhaps the rabbit can play for us," said some of the fleas. "Can
you, Mr. Rabbit?"
"No, I can't," he said, and he felt very sorry for them. "But I will
see if I can find some one who can," for Uncle Wiggily was very
kind-hearted, and always did what he could to help.
So he strolled down the beach looking for some one to play for the
sand fleas. And as he walked along he met a fiddler crab, which is a
crab with very long legs. And as soon as he saw that fiddler crab
Uncle Wiggily knew that the long-legged creature could make music.
"Will you come and play for the fleas' party?" asked the rabbit. "I
will make a fiddle out of my crutch and some seaweed for strings, and
you can play it."
"I will," said the fiddler crab, kindly, "but who will play the drum?
We need a drum. Who will play it?"
"I would if I had a drum," said the rabbit, bravely.
"I'll be the drum," suddenly cried a voice, and up from the ocean
popped a fish called the puff fish or sea robin, and he can make
himself look like a blown-up paper bag full of wind. "I'll be the drum
and you can make me go 'Boom! Boom!'" said the blow-fish.
"Fine!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Come on back to the sand fleas' party
with me." So the fiddler crab and the drum fish went along. Then the
rabbit soon made a fiddle, with seaweed for strings, and the fiddler
crab played it with his long legs, making tunes like "Please Buy Me an
Ice-Cream Cone and Take Me on the Merry-go-'Round."
And the drum fish puffed himself up like a balloon, and Uncle Wiggily
beat him with a soft stick, and there was fine music. Then the sand
fleas hopped and danced about until they could hop and dance no more.
But they didn't drop any gold or diamonds, and, when the party was
over, the rabbit was as poor as when it started. But still he didn't
mind. Then he went to sleep under a pile of seaweed, while the sea
robin and the fiddler crab went home in the ocean.
And on the next page, in case the egg beater doesn't get stuck on the
rolling-pin and make the pie crust fall through the nutmeg grater,
I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the watermelon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
STORY XIV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE WATERMELON
"Well," asked the slow snail of Uncle Wiggily, as he met the old
gentleman rabbit on the beach next day, "did you get any of your
fortune at the fleas' party?"
"None at all," answered the old gentleman rabbit. "There was plenty of
gold and diamonds to be seen, but the fleas didn't give me any."
"Perhaps they forgot it?" suggested the snail. "Some of the fleas are
very forgetful. I once knew one whose mother sent him to the store for
a pound of sugar and a quart of milk, and what do you s'pose he
bought?"
"I don't know," answered the rabbit, curious-like.
"He got a pound of milk and a quart of sugar, and the milk all ran out
of the paper bag in which the groceryman put it, and the sugar stuck
fast to the milk pail, and they had a dreadful time getting it out.
That shows you what a flea will do sometimes. Perhaps if you ask them
for your fortune they will give it to you."
"I'll do it the next time I meet one," decided Uncle Wiggily. "But now
I must go on and look for myself."
Illustration: Uncle Wiggily and the Watermelon
"Wait until I sing a little song for you," said the slow snail, and he
hummed this song very, very slowly:
"When I am in a hurry
I slowly crawl along,
And when I finish crawling
I sing a little song.
"For if I hurried too much
I'd get there all too soon,
Though some day I am going
To climb up to the moon.
"And then when I get up there
I'll sleep the whole long day,
Or crawl upon the moonbeams,
Or jump into the hay."
"Ha! hum!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "That's a very good song, and I'm
sure it will help me find my fortune. Now I must say good-by and
travel along."
"If you will wait I'll come with you," spoke the snail. "But then I
s'pose you are in a hurry, Uncle Wiggily, and I go too slow for you."
"That's it," said the rabbit kindly, and he gave one big hop that
carried him twice as far as the snail could travel in a week of
Sundays without counting Christmas.
Well, it wasn't very long after this before Uncle Wiggily got to the
top of a hill. When he started to climb up from the bottom he thought
perhaps there might be gold at the top, but when he did get to the
summit all he found there was a big green thing, with stripes on.
"I wonder what this can be?" thought the rabbit. "It looks like a
baseball, and yet it's too large for that, and besides it isn't quite
round. And, once more, it's green instead of white, for all baseballs
are white. Ha! I know what it is. That must be a football which the
boys kick about. I guess I'll kick it. Perhaps there may be gold
inside."
So he got ready to kick it, but you know how it is with old gentlemen
rabbits who have the rheumatism and have to go about on a crutch. As
soon as Uncle Wiggily lifted up one foot--the one that had no
rheumatism in it--and when he leaned on his crutch, the crutch
suddenly slipped, and down he went ker-flumux ker-flimix all in a
heap.
"Well, here's a pretty kettle of fish!" he cried. "I ought never to
have tried to kick that green football. I should have waited until it
was ripe."
So he sat down on top of the hill, and looked at the ocean tumbling
and foaming on the beach below him, and he waited for the green
football to get ripe. And, every once in a while he would poke it with
his crutch to see if it was getting soft, but it wasn't.
And once, right after he did this, the old gentleman rabbit heard some
one cry out:
"My goodness, Uncle Wiggily! What are you doing?"
"Waiting for this green football to get ripe so that I can kick it,"
was the rabbit's reply.
"Oh, ho! Oh, ha!" laughed the grasshopper for it was that leaping
insect who had spoken, "that is not a football, it is a watermelon,
and inside it is all red and sweet and juicy. Come, if you can, cut it
open, we will have a fine feast. I haven't had any watermelon in some
time. Can you cut it?"
"Oh, I can cut it fast enough," declared the rabbit. "Here goes, and I
hope it is better looking on the inside than it is on the outside."
So the rabbit took out his knife, with which he usually spread his
bread and butter, and he cut a hole in the watermelon. Then Uncle
Wiggily and the grasshopper scooped out all the nice, red, juicy part
and ate it.
And, would you ever believe it? Something happened right after that.
They had no sooner wiped the red watermelon juice off their faces than
there was a terrible roaring sound in the bushes, and out jumped a big
black bear. Oh, he was going on something frightful, yes, really he
was, but don't be frightened, for I won't let him hurt anybody. I'll
let him chew on my typewriter first and that will dull his teeth. On
the bear came, straight for the watermelon.
"Oh, what can I do?" cried Uncle Wiggily. "That bear will get me, but
he won't hurt you, Mr. Grasshopper, as you are so small."