"Do you think I look all right?" asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the
rabbit gentleman, of Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, his muskrat lady
housekeeper. He was standing in front of her, turning slowly about,
and he had on a new coat. For now that Summer was near the bunny uncle
had laid aside his heavy fur coat and was wearing a lighter one.
"Yes, you do look very nice," Nurse Jane said, tying her tail in a knot
so Uncle Wiggily would not step on it as he turned around.
"Nice enough to go to Grandfather Goosey Gander's party?" asked the
rabbit gentleman.
"Oh, yes, indeed!" exclaimed Nurse Jane. "I didn't know Grandpa Goosey
was to give a party, but, if he is, you certainly look well enough to
go with your new coat. Of course, it might be better if it had some
lace insertion around the button holes, or a bit of ruching, with
oyster shell trimming sewed down the back, but--"
"Oh, no, indeed!" laughed the bunny uncle. "If it had those things on
it would be a coat for a lady. I like mine plainer."
"Well, take care of yourself," called Nurse Jane after him as he hopped
off over the fields and through the woods to the house where
Grandfather Goosey Gander lived.
"Now, I must be very careful not to get my new coat dirty, or I won't
look nice at the party," the old rabbit gentleman was saying to himself
as he hopped along. "I must be very careful indeed."
He went along as carefully as he could, but, just as he was going down
a little hill, under the trees, he came to a place which was so
slippery that, before he knew it, all of a sudden Uncle Wiggily fell
down and slid to the bottom of the hill.
"My goodness!" he cried, as he stood up after his slide. "I did not
know there was snow or ice on that hill."
And when he looked there was not, but it was covered with long, thin
pine needles, which are almost as slippery as glass. It was on these
that the rabbit gentleman had slipped down hill.
"Well, there is no great harm done," said Uncle Wiggily to himself, as
he found no bones broken. "I had a little slide, that's all. I must
bring Sammie and Susie Littletail here some day, and let them slide on
pine needle hill. Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the two squirrels,
would also like it, and so would Nannie and Billie Wagtail, my two goat
friends."
Uncle Wiggily was about to go on to the party when, as he looked at his
new coat he saw that it was all torn. In sliding down the slippery
pine needle hill the coat had caught on sticks and stones and it had
many holes torn in it, and it was also ripped here and there.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Oh, sorrow! Oh, unhappiness!
Now I'll have to go back to my hollow stump bungalow and put on my old
coat that isn't torn. For I never can wear my new one to the party.
That would never do! But the trouble is, if I go back home I'll be
late! Oh, dear, what trouble I am in!"
Now was the time for some of Uncle Wiggily's friends to help him in his
trouble, as he had often helped them. But, as he looked through the
woods, he could not see even a little mouse, or so much as a
grasshopper.
"The tailor bird would be just the one I'd like to see now," said the
rabbit uncle. "She could mend my torn coat nicely." For tailor birds,
yon know, can take a piece of grass, with their bill for a needle, and
sew leaves together to make a nest, almost as well as your mother can
mend a hole in your stocking.
But there was no tailor bird in the woods, and Uncle Wiggily did not
know what to do.
"I certainly do not want to be late to Grandpa Goosey's party," said
the bunny uncle, "nor do I want to go to it in a torn coat. Oh, dear!"
Just then he heard down on the ground near him, a little voice saying:
"Perhaps we could mend your coat for you, Uncle Wiggily."
"You. Who are you, and how can you mend my torn coat?" the bunny
gentleman wanted to know.
"We are some little black ants," was the answer, "and with the pine
needles lying on the ground--some of the same needles on which you
slipped--we can sew up your coat, with long grass for thread."
"Oh, that will be fine, if you can do it," spoke the bunny uncle. "Can
you?"
"We'll try," the ants said. Then, about fourteen thousand six hundred
and twenty-two black ants took each a long, sharp pine needle, and
threading it with grass, they began to sew up the rips and tears in
Uncle Wiggily's coat. And in places where they could not easily sew
they stuck the cloth together with sticky gum from the pine tree. So,
though the pine tree was to blame, in a way, for Uncle Wiggily's fall,
it also helped in the mending of his coat.
Soon the coat was almost as good as new and you could hardly tell where
it was torn. And Uncle Wiggily, kindly thanking the ants, went on to
Grandpa Goosey's party and had a fine time and also some ice cream.
And if the egg beater doesn't take all the raisins out of the rice
pudding, so it looks like a cup of custard going to the moving
pictures, the next story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the sycamore
tree.
STORY XXX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SYCAMORE TREE
"Oh, Uncle Wiggily, I'm going to a party! I'm going to a party!" cried
Nannie Wagtail, the little goat girl, as she pranced up in front of the
hollow stump bungalow where Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman, lived
with Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper.
"Going to a party? Say, that's just fine!" said the bunny gentleman.
"I wish I were going to one."
"Why, you can come, too!" cried Nannie. "Jillie Longtail, the little
mouse girl, is giving the party, and I know she will be glad to have
you."
"Well, perhaps, I may stop in for a little while," said Mr. Longears,
with a smile that made his pink nose twinkle like the frosting on a
sponge cake. "But when is the party going to take place, Nannie?"
"Right away--I'm going there now; but I just stopped at your bungalow
to show you my new shoes that Uncle Butter, the circus poster goat,
bought for me. Aren't they nice?" And she stuck out her feet.
"Indeed, they are!" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he looked at the shiny
black shoes which went on over Nannie's hoofs. "So the party is
to-day, is it?",
"Right now," said Nannie. "Come on, Uncle Wiggily. Walk along with me
and go in! They'll all be glad to see you!"
"Oh, but my dear child!" cried the bunny gentleman. "I haven't shaved
my whiskers, my ears need brushing, and I would have to do lots of
things to make myself look nice and ready for a party!"
"Oh, dear!" bleated Nannie Wagtail. "I did so want you to come with
me!"
"Well, I'll walk as far as the Longtail mouse home,"' said the bunny
uncle, "but I won't go in.
"Oh, maybe you will when you get there!" And Nannie laughed, for she
knew Uncle Wiggily always did whatever the animal children wanted him
to do.
So the bunny uncle and Nannie started off through the woods together,
Nannie looking down at her new shoes every now and then.
"I'm going to dance at the party, Uncle Wiggily!" she said.
"I should think you would, Nannie, with those nice new shoes," spoke
Mr. Longears. "What dance are you going to do?"
"Oh, the four-step and the fish hornpipe, I guess," answered Nannie,
and then she suddenly cried:
"Oh, dear!"
"What's the matter now?" asked Uncle Wiggily. "Did you lose one of
your new shoes?"
"No, but I splashed some mud on it," the little goat girl said. "I
stepped in a mud puddle."
"Never mind, I'll wipe it off with a bit of soft green moss," answered
Uncle Wiggily; and he did. So Nannie's shoes were all clean again.
On and on went the rabbit gentleman and the little goat girl, and they
talked of what games the animal children would play at the Longtail
mouse party, and what good things they would eat, and all like that.
All of a sudden, as Nannie was jumping over another little puddle of
water, she cried out again:
"Oh, dear!"
"What's the matter now?" asked Uncle Wiggily. "Did some more mud
splash on your new shoes, Nannie?"
"No, Uncle Wiggily, but a lot of the buttons came off. I guess they
don't fasten buttons on new shoes very tight."
"I guess they don't," Uncle Wiggily said. "But still you have enough
buttons left to keep the shoes on your feet. I guess you will be all
right."
So Nannie walked on a little farther, with Uncle Wiggily resting his
rheumatism, now and then, on the red, white and blue striped barber
pole crutch that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of a cornstalk.
All of a sudden Nannie cried out again:
"Oh, dear! Oh, this is too bad!"
"What is?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"Now all the buttons have come off my shoes!" said the little goat
girl, sadly. "I don't see how I can go on to the party and dance, with
no buttons on my shoes. They'll be slipping off all the while."
"So they will," spoke Uncle Wiggily. "Shoes without buttons are like
lollypops without sticks, you can't do anything with them."
"But what am I going to do?" asked Nannie, while tears came into her
eyes and splashed up on her horns. "I do want so much to go to that
party."
"And I want you to," said Uncle Wiggily. "Let me think a minute."
So he thought and thought, and then he looked off through the woods and
he saw a queer tree not far away. It was a sycamore tree, with broad
white patches on the smooth bark, and hanging down from the branches
were lots of round balls, just like shoe buttons, only they were a sort
of brown instead of black. The balls were the seeds of the tree.
"Ha! The very thing!" cried the bunny uncle.
"What is?" asked Nannie.
"That sycamore, or button-ball tree," answered the rabbit gentleman.
"I can get you some new shoe buttons off that, Nannie, and sew them on
your shoes."
"Oh, if you can, that will be just fine!" cried the little goat girl.
"For when the buttons came off my new shoes they flew every which
way--I mean the buttons did--and I couldn't find a single one."
"Never mind," Uncle Wiggily kindly said. "I'll sew on some of the
buttons from the sycamore tree, and everything will be all right."
With a thorn for a needle, and some long grasses for thread, Uncle
Wiggily soon sewed the buttons from the sycamore, or button-ball, tree
on Nannie's new shoes, using the very smallest ones, of course. Then
Nannie put on her shoes again, having rested her feet on a velvet
carpet of moss, while Uncle Wiggily was sewing, and together they went
on to the Longtail mouse party.
"Oh, what nice shoes you have, Nannie!" cried Susie Littletail, the
rabbit girl.
"And what lovely stylish buttons!" exclaimed Lulu Wibblewobble, the
duck.
"Yes, Uncle Wiggily sewed them on for me," said Nannie.
"Oh, is Uncle Wiggily outside!" cried the little mousie girl. "He
must come in to our party!"
"Of course!" cried all the other animal children. And so Uncle
Wiggily, who had walked on past the house after leaving Nannie, had to
come in anyhow, without his whiskers being trimmed, or his ears curled.
And he was so jolly that every one had a good time and lots of ice
cream cheese to eat, and they all thought Nannie's shoes, and the
button-ball buttons, were just fine.
And if the ham sandwich doesn't tickle the cream puff under the chin
and make it laugh so all the chocolate drops off the cocoanut pudding,
I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the red spots.
STORY XXXI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE RED SPOTS
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, was hopping along through
the woods one fine day when he heard a little voice calling to him:
"Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Will you have a game of tag with me?"
At first the bunny uncle thought the voice might belong to a bad fox or
a harum-scarum bear, but when he had peeked through the bushes he saw
that it was Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girl, who had called to him.
"Have a game of tag with you? Why, of course, I will!" laughed Uncle
Wiggily. "That is, if you will kindly excuse my rheumatism, and the
red, white and blue crutch which Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, my muskrat
lady housekeeper, gnawed for me out of a cornstalk."
"Of course, I'll excuse it, Uncle Wiggily," said Lulu. "Only please
don't tag me with the end of your crutch, for it tickles me, and when
I'm tickled I have to laugh, and when I laugh I can't play tag."
"I won't tag you with my crutch," spoke Uncle Wiggily with a laugh.
"Now we're ready to begin."
So the little duck girl and the rabbit gentleman played tag there in
the woods, jumping and springing about on the soft mossy green carpet
under the trees.
Sometimes Lulu was "it" and sometimes Uncle Wiggily would be tagged by
the foot or wing of the duck girl, who was a sister to Alice and Jimmie
Wibblewobble.
"Now for a last tag!" cried Uncle Wiggily when it was getting dark in
the woods. "I'll tag you this time, Lulu, and then we must go home."
"All right," agreed Lulu, and she ran and flew so fast that Uncle
Wiggily could hardly catch her to make her "it." And finally when
Uncle Wiggily almost had his paw on the duck girl she flew right over a
bush, and, before Uncle Wiggily could stop himself he had run into the
bush until he was half way through it.
[Illustration: Before Uncle Wiggily could stop himself he had run into
the bush.]
But, very luckily, it was not a scratchy briar bush, so no great harm
was done, except that Uncle Wiggily's fur was a bit ruffled up, and he
was tickled.
"I guess I can't tag you this time, Lulu!" laughed the bunny uncle.
"We'll give up the game now, and I'll be 'it' next time when we play."
"Ail right, Uncle Wiggily," said Lulu. "I'll meet you here in the
woods at this time tomorrow night, and I'll bring Alice and Jimmie with
me, and we'll have lots of fun. We'll have a grand game of tag!"
"Fine!" cried the bunny uncle, as he squirmed his way out of the bush.
Then he went on to his hollow stump bungalow, and Lulu went on to her
duck pen house to have her supper of corn meal sauce with watercress
salad sprinkled over the sides.
As Uncle Wiggily was sitting down to his supper of carrot ice cream
with lettuce sandwiches all puckered around the edges, Nurse Jane Fuzzy
Wuzzy looked at him across the table, and exclaimed:
"Why, Wiggy! What's the matter with you?"
"Matter with me? Nothing, Janie! I feel just fine!" he said. "I'm
hungry, that's all!"
"Why, you're all covered with red spots!" went on the muskrat lady.
"You are breaking out with the measles. I must send for Dr. Possum at
once."
"Measles? Nonsense!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "I can't have 'em
again. I've had 'em once."
"Well, maybe these are the French or German mustard measles," said the
muskrat lady. "You are certainly all covered with red spots, and red
spots are always measles."
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"You must go to bed at once," said Nurse Jane, "and when Dr. Possum
comes he'll tell you what else to do. Oh, my! Look at the red spots!"
Uncle Wiggily was certainly as red-spotted as a polka-dot shirt waist.
He looked at himself in a glass to make sure.
"Well, I guess I have the measles all right," he said. "But I don't
see how I can have them twice. This must be a different style, like
the new dances."
It was dark when Dr. Possum came, and when he saw the red spots on
Uncle Wiggily, he said:
"Yes, I guess they're the measles all right. Lots of the animal
children are down with them. But don't worry. Keep nice and warm and
quiet, and you'll be all right in a few days."
So Uncle Wiggily went to bed, red spots and all, and Nurse Jane made
him hot carrot and sassafras tea, with whipped cream and chocolate in
it. The cream was not whipped because it was bad, you know, but only
just in fun, to make it stand up straight.
All the next day the bunny uncle stayed in bed with his red spots,
though he wanted very much to go out in the woods looking for an
adventure. And when evening came and Nurse Jane was sitting out on the
front porch of the hollow stump bungalow, she suddenly heard a quacking
sound, and along came Lulu, Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble, the duck
children.
"Where is Uncle Wiggily?" asked Lulu.
"He is in bed," answered Nurse Jane.
"Why is he in bed?" asked Jimmie. "Was he bad?"
"No, indeed," laughed Nurse Jane. "But your Uncle Wiggily is in bed
because he has the red-spotted measles. What did you want of him?"
"He promised to meet us in the woods, where the green moss grows,"
answered Lulu, "and play tag with us. We waited and waited, and played
tag all by ourselves tonight, even jumping in the bush, as Uncle
Wiggily accidentally did when he was chasing me, but he did not come
along. So we came here to see what is the matter."
The three duck children came up on the porch, where the bright light
shone on them from inside the bungalow.
"Oh, my goodness me sakes alive and some paregoric lollypops!" cried
Nurse Jane, as she looked at the three. "You ducks are all covered
with red spots, too! You all have the measles! Oh, my!"
"Measles!" cried Jimmie, the boy duck.
"Measles? These aren't measles, Nurse Jane! These are sticky, red
berries from the bushes we jumped in as Uncle Wiggily did. The red
berries are sticky, like burdock burrs, and they stuck to us."
"Oh, my goodness!" cried Nurse Jane. "Wait a minute, children!" Then
she ran to where Uncle Wiggily was lying in bed. She leaned over and
picked off some of the red spots from his fur.
"Why!" cried the muskrat lady. "You haven't the measles at all, Wiggy!
It's just sticky, red berries in your fur, just as they are in the
ducks' feathers. You're all right! Get up and have a good time!"
And Uncle Wiggily did, after Nurse Jane had combed the red, sticky
burr-berries out of his fur. He didn't have the measles at all, for
which he was very glad, because he could now be up and play tag.
"My goodness! That certainly was a funny mistake for all of us," said
Dr. Possum next day. "But the red spots surely did look like the
measles." Which shows us that things are not always what they seem.
And if the--Oh, excuse me, if you please. There is not going to be a
next story in this book. It is already as full as it can be, so the
story after this will have to be put in the following book, which also
means next.
Let me see, now. Oh, I know. Next I'm going to tell you some stories
about the old gentleman growing cabbages, lettuce and things like that
out of the ground, and the book will be called "Uncle Wiggily on The
Farm." It will be ready for you by Christmas, I think, and I hope you
will like it.
And now I will say good-bye for a little while, and if the lollypop
doesn't take its sharp stick to make the baby carriage roll down the
hill and into the trolley car, I'll soon begin to make the new book.