UNCLE WIGGILY AND OLD KING COLE
“WELL, Uncle Wiggily Longears, you are getting very stylish, indeed, it
seems,” spoke Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper,
after the postman bird had paid a visit to the hollow-stump bungalow one
day, and had left a letter. “Very stylish. Look here!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked the bunny uncle. “Do you call it stylish
just to get a letter? You often get them, and so do I. This is, very
likely, from Grandpa Goosey Gander, asking me to come over and play
checkers with him.”
“Indeed, it is nothing of the sort!” exclaimed the muskrat lady. “That
is, if you will excuse me for saying so. This is a very stylish letter,
indeed. It comes from the king’s palace, as you can see, by the royal
stamp on it in gold and red and blue and green. I wonder what it can
be?”
“I’ll open it and find out; then I’ll tell you,” said Uncle Wiggily,
politely. “I guess it’s from the gold and silver palace of the king, who
was in the kitchen counting out his money, while the queen was in the
parlor eating bread and honey. The maid was in the garden hanging out
the clothes, when along came a blackbird and nipped off her nose.
“I helped the king and queen and the maid, you know, and perhaps they
are in more trouble, and need more help.”
But when the bunny uncle opened the letter he found it was not from that
king, but another—this letter was from Old King Cole.
“Read me the letter,” said Nurse Jane.
So Uncle Wiggily read:
“Old King Cole is a merry old soul,
A merry old soul is he.
He called for his pipe, he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
“Every fiddler had a fine fiddle,
A very fine fiddle had he,
And Uncle Wiggily is asked to come
To list to the music with me.”
At the bottom of the letter was Old King Cole’s name, in big letters.
“Well, well!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. “I don’t understand. What’s it
all about, I wonder?”
“Don’t you see!” cried Nurse Jane. “This is a royal invitation from Old
King Cole for you to come to his palace, and listen to his fiddlers
three making music on their fine fiddles. You must get ready to go. Put
on your best suit and look nice.”
“Must I really go?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “I had much rather stay here
with you. I don’t know Old King Cole at all well. Must I go?”
“Of course you must go!” Nurse Jane said. “Whenever a king invites you,
why, you have to go, even if you must stand on your head. I’ll help you
get ready.”
“Very well,” Uncle Wiggily said. “But I had much rather stay home with
my slippers on, eating carrot sandwiches. I know it will be too fine and
grand for me up at the king’s palace. I’ll be sure to get my napkin on
backward, or tickle some one with the wrong fork. But if I must go, I
must. I wonder how he came to invite me?”
“Oh, I guess he heard how kind you were to the king who was in the
kitchen, counting out his money, and how you dug it up for him when it
rolled under the floor,” said Nurse Jane.
So she helped Uncle Wiggily get ready, shaving the back of his neck for
him, where he couldn’t himself reach with his razor. And she tied his
tie for him, and saw that he was all scrumptious like, and proper.
Finally the rabbit gentleman set off for the palace of the king. He was
about halfway there when he heard some little squeaking voices down
beside the woodland path, and there he saw Jollie and Jillie Longtail,
the mouse children, and their cousin, Squeaky-Eeky.
“Where are you going, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Jollie, the boy mouse.
“To Old King Cole’s to hear some fiddle music,” answered Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, do please take us with you!” begged Jillie. “We just love fiddle
music and we can’t ever go to hear any.”
“Why?” asked the bunny uncle.
“Because,” explained Squeaky-Eeky, the little cousin mouse. “You know
what it says in Mother Goose.
“‘Hi-Diddle-Diddle. The cat’s in the fiddle.’ Now we couldn’t go to hear
music when a cat was in the fiddle, could we?”
“Of course not,” answered Uncle Wiggily. “I never thought of that. Cats
and mice don’t go well together. But how can I take you to King Cole? He
may not like mice.”
“Put us in your pockets,” said Jillie. “We are not very big, and we can
easily hide when you go in the palace. No one will see us in your
pockets.”
Well, Uncle Wiggily put them in—Jollie, Jillie and Squeaky-Eeky
Longtail. But the rabbit gentleman was afraid lest the king might not
like it. However, let us see what happened, as they say in story books.
“Glad to see you, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Old King Cole, as the bunny
uncle came in the grand palace. “Make yourself right at home!” and the
king clapped his hands. Then some one sang:
“Old King Cole is a merry old soul,
A merry old soul is he.
He called for his pipe,
He called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.”
In came the fiddlers, playing tweedle-dweele-dee, making nice music,
until, all at once:
“Snap! Snap! Snap!” went something. “Snap!”
“My goodness me sakes alive and some orange lemonade!” cried Uncle
Wiggily. “What was that?”
“Our fiddle strings have broken!” cried one of the fiddlers. “Now we can
make no more music until we have new strings.”
“Oh, dear!” cried King Cole. “That’s too bad. I must have music from my
fiddlers three, or from some one, or Mother Goose won’t like it. How can
I get squeaky fiddle music for Uncle Wiggily? How can I?”
Just then Jollie Longtail popped his head out from Uncle Wiggily’s
pocket.
“If you please, Old King Cole,” he said, “Jillie, Squeaky-Eeky and I,
with our squeaky voices, will make music for you if you like.”
“I do like,” said the king. “Make some music, if you please!”
So the mice, who have very squeaky voices, sang nice music, almost like
the fiddles, and Old King Cole was a more merry soul than ever.
“I’m glad you came, Uncle Wiggily,” he said. “And I’m glad you brought
the nice Longtail mice children with you. Give them all some cheese!”
And he laughed most jolly-jilly like.
So the mice sang for the king until the fiddlers’ fiddle strings were
fixed, and every one had a good time and plenty to eat.
And if the jam tart doesn’t get inside the huckleberry pie, where the
egg beater can’t find it to dance with, I’ll tell you next about Uncle
Wiggily and Peter-Peter.
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