and Uncle Wiggily went to a clear, open place in the fields, near the
woods, to fly it.
There was a good wind blowing, and when Uncle Wiggily raised the kite
up off the ground, Tommie ran, holding the string that was fast to the
kite and up and up and up it went in the air. Soon it was sailing
quite near the clouds, almost like Uncle Wiggily's airship, only, of
course, no one rode on the kite.
"Have you any more string, Uncle Wiggily?" asked the kitten boy, after
a bit.
"String, Tommie? What for?"
"Well, I want to make my kite string longer so it will go up higher.
But if you have none I'll run home and get some myself. Will you hold
the kite while I'm gone?"
"To be sure I will," said Uncle Wiggily. So he took hold of the string
of Tommie's kite, which was now quite high in the air. And, sitting
down on the ground, Uncle Wiggily held the kite from running away while
Tommie went for more string.
It was a nice, warm, summer day, and so pleasant in the woods, with the
little flies buzzing about, that, before he knew it Uncle Wiggily had
fallen asleep. His pink nose stopped twinkling, his ears folded
themselves down like a slice of bread and jam, and Uncle Wiggily's eyes
closed.
All of a sudden he was awakened by feeling himself being pulled. At
first he thought it was the skillery-scalery alligator, or the bad fox
trying to drag him off to his den, and Uncle Wiggily, opening his eyes,
cried:
"Here! Stop that if you please! Don't pull me so!"
But when he looked around he could see no one, and then he knew it was
Tommie's kite, flying up in the air, that was doing the pulling.
The wind was blowing hard now, and as Uncle Wiggily had the kite string
wound around his paws, of course he was pulled almost off his feet.
"Ha! That kite is a great puller!" said the bunny uncle. "I must look
out or it might pull me up to the clouds. I had better fasten the
string to this old stump. The kite can't pull that up."
So the rabbit gentleman fastened the kite cord to the stout old stump,
winding it around two or three times, and he kept the loose end of the
string in his paw.
Uncle Wiggily was just going to sleep again, and he was wondering why
it took Tommie so long to find more string for the kite, when, all of a
sudden, there was a rustling in the bushes, and out jumped the bad old
babboon, who had, once before, made trouble for the bunny uncle.
"Ah, ha!" jabbered the babboon. "This time I have caught you. You
can't get away from me now. I am going to take you off to my den."
"Oh, please don't!" begged Uncle Wiggily.
"Yes, I shall, too!" blabbered the babboon. "Off to my den you shall
go--you shall go--you shall go. Off to my den. Oh, hold on!" cried
the bad creature. "That isn't the song I wanted to sing. That's the
London Bridge song. I want the one about the dinner bell is ringing in
the bread box this fine day. And the dinner bell is ringing for to
take you far away, Uncle Wiggily."
"Ah, then I had better go to my dinner," said the bunny uncle, sadly.
"No! You will go with me!" cried the babboon. "Come along now. I'm
going to take you away."
"Well, if I must go, I suppose I must," Uncle Wiggily said, looking at
the kite string, which was pulling at the stump very hard now. "But
before you take me away would you mind pulling down Tommie's kite?"
asked the bunny uncle. "I'll leave it for him."
"Yes, I'll pull the kite down," said the babboon.
"Maybe you will," thought Uncle Wiggily, laughing to himself. "And
maybe you won't."
The bad babboon monkey chap unwound the string from the stump, but no
sooner had he started to pull in the kite than there came a very strong
puff of wind.
Up, up and up into the air blew the kite and, as the string was tangled
around the babboon's paws, it took him up with it, and though he cried
out: "Stop! Stop! Stop!" the kite could not stop, nor the babboon
either.
[Illustration: Up, up and up into the air blew the kite and, as the
string was tangled around the babboon's paws, it took him up with it.]
"Well, I guess you won't bother me any more," said Uncle Wiggily, as he
looked at the babboon, who was only a speck in the sky now; a very
little speck, being carried away by the kite.
And the babboon did not come back to bother Uncle Wiggily, at least for
a long time. Tommie felt badly when he found his kite blown away. But
he was glad Uncle Wiggily had been saved, and he and the bunny uncle
soon made a new kite, better than the first. They had lots of fun
flying it.
And in the story after this, if the chocolate pudding doesn't hide in
the coal bin, where the cook can't find it to put the whipped cream on,
I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and Johnnie's marbles.
STORY XXI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND JOHNNIE'S MARBLES
It was a nice, warm spring day, when the ground in the woods where the
animal boys and girls lived was soft, for all the frost had melted out
of it; and, though it was a little too early to go barefoot, it was not
too early to play marbles.
Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels; Sammie Littletail, the
rabbit, and Jimmie Wibblewobble, the duck, were having a game under the
trees, not far from the hollow stump bungalow which was the house of
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny gentleman.
"First shot agates!" cried Johnnie.
"No, I'm going to shoot first!" chattered his brother Billie.
"Huh! I hollered it before either of you," quacked Jimmie, the duck
boy, and he tossed some red, white and blue striped marbles on the
ground in the ring. The marbles were just the color of Uncle Wiggily's
rheumatism crutch.
The animal boys began playing, but they made so much noise, crying
"Fen!" and "Ebbs!" and "Knuckle down!" that Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the
muskrat lady housekeeper, went to the bungalow door and called:
"Boys! Boys! Will you please be a little quiet? Uncle Wiggily is
lying down taking a nap, and I don't want you to wake him up with your
marbles."
"Oh, I don't mind!" cried the bunny uncle, unfolding his ears from his
vest pockets, where he always tucked them when he went to sleep, so the
flies would not tickle him. "It's about time I got up," he said.
"So the boys are playing marbles, eh? Well, I'll go out and watch
them. It will make me think of the days when I was a spry young bunny
chap, hopping about, spinning my kites and flying my tops."
"I guess you are a little bit twisted; are you not?" asked Nurse Jane,
politely.
"Oh, so I am," said Uncle Wiggily. "I mean flying my kite and spinning
my top."
Then he pinkled his twink nose--Ah! you see that's the time I was
twisted--I mean he twinkled his pink nose, Uncle Wiggily did, and out
he went to watch the animal boys play marbles.
Billie, Johnnie and Jimmie, as well as Sammie, wanted the bunny uncle
to play also, but he said his rheumatism hurt too much to bend over.
So he just watched the marble game, until it was time for the boys to
go home. And then Johnnie cried:
"Oh, I forgot! I have to go to the store for a loaf of bread for
supper. Come on, fellows, with me, will you?"
But neither Jimmie, nor Sammie nor Billie wanted to go with Johnnie, so
he started off through the woods to the store alone, when Uncle Wiggily
cried:
"Wait a minute, Johnnie, and I'll go with you. I haven't had my walk
this day, and I have had no adventure at all. I'll go along and see
what happens."
"Oh, that will be nice!" chattered Johnnie, who did not like to go to
the store alone. So, putting his marbles in the bag in which he
carried them, he ran along beside Uncle Wiggily.
They had not gone far when, all of a sudden, there came a strong puff
of wind, and, before Uncle Wiggily could hold his hat down over his
ears, it was blown off his head. I mean his hat was--not his ears.
Away through the trees the tall silk hat was blown.
"Oh, dear!" cried the bunny uncle. "I guess I am not going to have a
nice adventure today."
"I'll get your hat for you, Uncle Wiggily!" said Johnnie kindly. "You
hold my bag of marbles so I can run faster, and I'll get the hat for
you."
Tossing the rabbit gentleman the marbles, away scampered Johnnie after
the hat. But the wind kept on blowing it, and the squirrel boy had to
run a long way.
"Well, I hope he gets it and brings it back to me," thought Uncle
Wiggily, as he sat down on a green, moss-covered stone to wait for the
squirrel boy. And, while he was waiting the bunny uncle opened the bag
and looked at Johnnie's marbles. There were green ones, and blue and
red and pink--very pretty, all of them.
"I wonder if I have forgotten how to play the games I used to enjoy
when I was a boy rabbit?" thought the bunny gentleman. "Just now, when
no one is here in tile woods to laugh at me, I think I'll try and see
how well I can shoot marbles."
So he marked out a ring on the ground, and putting some marbles in the
center began shooting at them with another marble, just the way you
boys do.
"Ha! A good shot!" cried the bunny uncle, as he knocked two marbles
out of the ring at once. "I am not so old as I thought I was, even if
I have the rheumatism."
He was just going to shoot again when a growling voice over behind a
bush said:
"Well, you will not have it much longer."
"Have what much longer?" asked Uncle Wiggily, and glancing up, there he
saw a big bear, not at all polite looking.
"You won't have the rheumatism much longer," the bear said.
"Why not?" Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.
"Because," answered the bear, "I am going to eat you up and the
rheumatism, too. Here I come!" and he made a jump for the bunny uncle.
But did he catch him?
That bear did not, for he stepped on one of the round marbles, which
rolled under his paw and he fell down ker-punko! on his nose-o!
Uncle Wiggily started to run away, but he did not like to go and leave
Johnnie's marbles on the ground, so he stayed to pick them up, and by
then the bear stood up on his hind legs again, and grabbed the bunny
uncle in his sharp claws.
"Ah ha! Now I have you!" said the bear, grillery and growlery like.
"Yes, I see you have," sadly spoke Uncle Wiggily. "But before you take
me off to your den, which I suppose you will do, will you grant me one
favor?"
"Yes, and only one," growled the bear. "Be quick about it! What is
it?"
"Will you let me have one more shot?" asked the bunny uncle. "I want
to see if I can knock the other marbles out of the ring."
"Well, I see no harm in that," slowly grumbled the bear. "Go ahead.
Shoot!"
Uncle Wiggily picked out the biggest shooter in Johnnie's bag. Then he
took careful aim, but, instead of aiming at the marbles in the ring he
aimed at the soft and tender nose of the bear.
"Bing!" went the marble which Uncle Wiggily shot, right on the bear's
nose. "Bing!" And the bear was so surprised and kerslostrated that he
cried:
"Wow! Ouch! Oh, lollypops! Oh, sweet spirits of nitre!" And away he
ran through the woods to hold his nose in a soft bank of mud, for he
thought a bee had stung him. And so he didn't bite Uncle Wiggily after
all.
"Well, I guess I can play marbles nearly as well as I used to," laughed
the bunny uncle when Johnnie came back with the tall silk hat.
And when Mr. Longears told the boy squirrel about shooting the bear on
the nose, Johnnie laughed and said he could have done no better himself.
So everything came out all right, you see, and if the butterfly doesn't
try to stand on its head and tickle the June bug under the chin, I'll
tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Billie's top.
STORY XXII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND BILLIE'S TOP
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice rabbit gentleman, was sitting on the
front porch of his hollow stump bungalow one day, when along came
Billie Bushytail, the little squirrel boy.
"Hello, Billie!" called the bunny gentleman, cheerful-like and happy,
for his rheumatism did not hurt him much that day. "Hello, Billie."
"Hello, Uncle Wiggily," answered the chattery squirrel chap. Then he
came up and sat down on the porch, but he seemed so quiet and
thoughtful that Uncle Wiggily asked:
"Is anything the matter, Billie?"
"No--well--that is, nothing much," said the squirrel boy slowly, "but
I'd like to ask you what you'd buy if you had five cents, Uncle
Wiggily."
"What would I buy if I had five cents, Billie? Well now, let me see.
I think I'd buy two postage stamps and a funny postcard and write some
letters to my friends. What would you buy, Billie?"
"I'd buy a spinning top, Uncle Wiggily," said the little squirrel boy,
very quickly. "Only, you see, I haven't any five cents. You have,
though, haven't you Uncle Wiggily? Eh?"
"Why, yes, Billie, I think so," and the old gentleman rabbit put his
paw in his pocket to make sure.
"This is a funny world," said Billie with a long, sorrowful sigh.
"Here you are with five cents and you don't want a top, and here I am
without five cents and I do want a spinning top. Oh, dear!"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Uncle Wiggily in his most jolly fashion. "I
see what you mean, Billie. Now you just come along with me," and Uncle
Wiggily picked up off the porch his red, white and blue striped
barber-pole rheumatism crutch that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of
a cornstalk.
"Where are we going?" asked Billie, sort of hopeful-like and expectant.
"I'm going to the top store to buy a spinning top," answered bunny
uncle. "If you think I ought to have one, why I'll get it."
"Oh, all right," said Billie, sort of funny-like. "Do you know how to
spin a top, Uncle Wiggily?"
"Well, I used to when I was a young rabbit, and I guess I can remember
a little about it. Come along and help me pick out a nice one."
So the bunny uncle and the squirrel boy went on and on through the
woods to the top store kept by Mrs. Spin Spider, who had a little toy
shop in which she worked when she was not spinning silk for the animal
ladies' dresses.
"One of your best tops for myself, if you please," said Uncle Wiggily,
as he and Billie went into the toy store. Mrs. Spin Spider put a
number of tops on the counter.
"That's the kind you want!" cried Billie, as he saw a big red one, and
pointed his paw at it.
"Try it and see how it spins," said the bunny man.
Billie wound the string on the top, and then, giving it a throw, while
he kept hold of one end of the cord, he made the top spin as fast as
anything on the floor of the store. Around and around whizzed the red
top, like the electric fan on Uncle Wiggily's airship.
"Is that a good top for me, Billie?" asked Mr. Longears.
"A very good top," said the squirrel boy. "Fine!"
"Then I'll take it," said Uncle Wiggily, and he paid for it and walked
out, Billie following.
If the little chattery squirrel chap was disappointed at not getting a
top for himself, he said nothing about it, which was very brave and
good, I think. He just walked along until they came to a nice,
smooth-dirt place in the woods, and then Uncle Wiggily said:
"Let me see you spin my top, Billie. I want to watch you and see how
it's done--how you wind the string on, how you throw it down to the
ground and all that. You just give me some lessons in top-spinning,
please."
"I will," said Billie. So he wound the string on the top again and
soon it was spinning as fast as anything on the hard ground in the
woods.
"Do you want me to show you how to pick up a top, and let it spin on
your paw?" asked Billie, of Uncle Wiggily.
"Yes, show me all the tricks there are," said the bunny gentleman.
So, while the top was spinning very fast, Billie picked it up, and,
holding it on his paw, quickly put it over on Uncle Wiggily's paw.
"Ouch! It tickles!" cried the bunny uncle, sort of giggling like.
"Yes, a little," laughed Billie, "but I don't mind that. Now I'll show
you how to pick it up."
Once more he spun the top, and he was just going to pick it up when,
all of a sudden, a growling voice cried:
"Ah, ha! Again I am in luck! A rabbit and a squirrel! Let me see;
which shall I take first?" And out from behind a stump popped a big
bear. It was the same one that Uncle Wiggily had hit on the nose with
Johnnie's marble, about a week before.
"Oh, my!" said the bunny man.
"Oh, dear!" chattered Billie.
"Surprised to see me, aren't you?" asked the bear sticking out his
tongue.
"A little," answered Uncle Wiggily, "but I guess we'd better be getting
along Billie. Pick up my top and come along."
"Oh, oh! Not so fast!" growled the bear. "I shall want you to stay
with me. You'll be going off with me to my den, pretty soon. Don't be
in a hurry," and, putting out his claws, he grabbed hold of Uncle
Wiggily and Billie. They tried to get away, but could not, and the
bear was just going to carry them off, when he saw the spinning top
whizzing on the ground.
"What's that red thing?" he asked.
"A top Billie just picked out for me," said Uncle Wiggily.
"Would you like to have it spin on your paw?" asked Billie, blinking
his eyes at Uncle Wiggily, funny-like.
"Oh, I might as well, before I carry you off to my den," said the bear,
sort of careless-like and indifferent. "Spin the top on my paw."
So Billie picked up the spinning top and put it on the bear's broad,
flat paw. And, no sooner was it there, whizzing around, than the bear
cried:
"Ouch! Oh, dear! How it tickles. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho! It
makes me laugh. It makes me laugh. It makes me giggle! Ouch! Oh,
dear!"
And then he laughed so hard that he dropped the top and turned a
somersault, and away he ran through the woods, leaving Billie and Uncle
Wiggily safe there alone.
"We came out of that very well," said the bunny uncle as the bear ran
far away.
"Yes, indeed, and here is your top," spoke Billie, picking it up off
the ground where the bear had dropped it.
"My top? No that's yours," said the bunny gentleman. "I meant it for
you all the while."
"Oh, did you? Thank you so much!" cried happy Billie, and then he ran
off to spin his red top, while Mr. Longears went back to his bungalow.
And if the sofa pillow doesn't leak its feathers all over, and make the
room look like a bird's nest at a moving picture picnic, I'll tell you
in the next story about Uncle Wiggily and the sunbeam.
STORY XXIII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SUNBEAM
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice rabbit gentleman, was walking along in
the woods one day, sort of hopping and leaning on his red, white and
blue striped rheumatism crutch, and he was wondering whether or not he
would have an adventure, when, all at once, he heard a little voice
crying:
"Oh, dear! I never can get up! I never can get up! Oh, dear!"
"Ha! that sounds like some one who can't get out of bed," exclaimed the
bunny uncle. "I wonder who it can be? Perhaps I can help them."
So he looked carefully around, but he saw no one, and he was just about
to hop along, thinking perhaps he had made a mistake, and had not heard
anything after all, when, suddenly, the voice sounded again, and called
out:
"Oh, I can't get up! I can't get up! Can't you shine on me this way?"
"No, I am sorry to say I cannot," answered another voice. "But try to
push your way through, and then I can shine on you, and make you grow."
There was silence for a minute, and then the first voice said again:
"Oh, it's no use! I can't push the stone from over my head. Oh, such
trouble as I have!"
"Trouble, eh?" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Here is where I come in. Who are
you, and what is the trouble?" he asked, looking all around, and seeing
nothing but the shining sun.
"Here I am, down in the ground near your left hind leg," was the
answer. "I am a woodland flower and I have just started to grow. But
when I tried to put my head up out of the ground, to get air, and drink
the rain water, I find I cannot do it. A big stone is in the way,
right over my head, and I cannot push it aside to get up. Oh, dear!"
sighed the Woodland flower.
"Oh, don't worry about that!" cried Uncle Wiggily, in his jolly voice.
"I'll lift the stone off your head for you," and he did, just as he
once had helped a Jack-in-the-pulpit flower to grow up, as I have told
you in another story. Under the stone were two little pale green
leaves on a stem that was just cracking its way up through the brown
earth.
"There you are!" cried the bunny uncle. "But you don't look much like
a flower."
"Oh! I have only just begun to grow," was the answer. "And I never
would have been a flower if you had not taken the stone from me. You
see, when I was a baby flower, or seed, I was covered up in my warm bed
of earth. Then came the cold winter, and I went to sleep. When spring
came I awakened and began to grow, but in the meanwhile this stone was
put over me. I don't know by whom. But it held me down.
"But now I am free, and my pale green leaves will turn to dark green,
and soon I will blossom out into a flower."
"How will all that happen?" Uncle Wiggily asked.
"When the sunbeam shines on me," answered the blossom. "That is why I
wanted to get above the stone--so the sunbeam could shine on me and
warm me."
"And I will begin to do it right now!" exclaimed the sunbeam, who had
been playing about on the leaves of the trees, waiting for a chance to
shine on the green plant and turn it into a beautiful flower. "Thank
you, Uncle Wiggily, for taking the stone off the leaves so I could
shine on them," went on the sunbeam, who had known Uncle Wiggily for
some time. "Though I am strong I am not strong enough to lift stones,
nor was the flower. But now I can do my work. I thank you, and I hope
I may do you a favor some time."
"Thank you," Uncle Wiggily said, with a low bow, raising his tall silk
hat. "I suppose you sunbeams are kept very busy shining on, and
warming, all the plants and trees in the woods?"
"Yes, indeed!" answered the yellow sunbeam, who was a long, straight
chap. "We have lots of work to do, but we are never too busy to shine
for our friends."
Then the sunbeam played about the little green plant, turning the pale
leaves a darker color and swelling out the tiny buds. Uncle Wiggily
walked on through the woods, glad that he had had even this little
adventure.
It was a day or so after this that the bunny uncle went to the store
for Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, who kept his hollow stump
bungalow so nice and tidy.
"I want a loaf of bread, a yeast cake and three pounds of sugar," said
Nurse Jane.
"It will give me great pleasure to get them for you," answered the
rabbit gentleman politely. On his way home from the store with the
sugar, bread and yeast cake, Uncle Wiggily thought he would hop past
the place where he had lifted the stone off the head of the plant, to
see how it was growing. And, as he stood there, looking at the flower,
which was much taller than when the bunny uncle had last seen it, all
of a sudden there was a rustling in the bushes, and out jumped a bad
old fox.
"Ah, ha!" barked the fox, like a dog. "You are just the one I want to
see!"
"You want to see me?" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "I think you must be
mistaken," he went on politely.
"Oh, no, not at all!" barked the fox. "You have there some sugar, some
bread and a yeast cake; have you not?"
"I have," answered Uncle Wiggily.
"Well, then, you may give me the bread and sugar and after I eat them I
will start in on you. I will take you off to my den, to my dear little
foxes. Eight, Nine and Ten. They have numbers instead of names, you
see."
"But I don't want to give you Nurse Jane's sugar and bread, and go with
you to your den," said the rabbit gentleman. "I don't want to! I
don't like it!"
"You can't always do as you like," barked the fox. "Quick now--the
sugar and bread!"
"What about the yeast cake?" asked Uncle Wiggily, as he held it out,
all wrapped in shiny tinfoil, like a looking-glass. "What about the
yeast cake?"
"Oh, throw it away!" growled the fox.
"No, don't you do it!" whispered a voice in Uncle Wiggily's ear, and
there was the sunbeam he had met the other day. "Hold out the yeast
cake and I will shine on it very brightly, and then I'll slant, or
bounce off from it, into the eyes of the fox," said the sunbeam. "And
when I shine in his eyes I'll tickle him, and he'll sneeze, and you can
run away."
So Uncle Wiggily held out the bright yeast cake. Quick as a flash the
sunbeam glittered on it, and then reflected itself into the eyes of the
fox.
"Ker-chool!" he sneezed. "Ker-chooaker-choo!" and tears came into the
fox's eyes, so he could not see Uncle Wiggily, who, after thanking the
sunbeam, hurried safely back to his bungalow with the things for Nurse
Jane.
So the fox got nothing at all but a sneeze, you see, and when he had
cleared the tears out of his eyes Uncle Wiggily was gone. So the
sunbeam did the bunny gentleman a favor after all, and if the coal man
doesn't put oranges in our cellar, in mistake for apples when he brings
a barrel of wood, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the puff
ball.
STORY XXIV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE PUFF BALL