Oh, it's dreadful to be lonely,
Even when you're not alone,
And you may be dreadful mournful
Though you have a happy tone.
And your lips may keep a-smiling
Though the tears are in your eyes.
Have you never seen it raining,
When the sun is in the skies?
If the one you want to be with
Isn't all the time with you,
There is nothing that will make you
Feel anything but blue.
And this was the way little Billy Bunny felt. You see, he hadn't seen
his dear, kind Uncle Lucky for so long that the gold watch and chain
which the old gentleman rabbit had given him needed winding.
So after the little rabbit had wound up the chain and put the watch back
in his pocket, he started out to see his uncle, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot,
who lived on Carrot street, near Lettuce Avenue, Bunnybridge, U. S. A.
Well, after Billy Bunny had hopped and hopped and then some more, he
came to a cross road, and the sign on the post said, "5,281-1/2 hops to
Bunnybridge."
"Well, I'm glad I'm on the right road," said the little rabbit, and he
took half a hop so as to start out even, you know, because he never did
like fractions, and by and by he came to Lettuce avenue. But just then
something happened. Something usually does happen when you least expect
it, and that's what's going to happen now if my typewriter doesn't get
balky and throw my hands off the keyboard.
Yes, sir! Just as that dear little bunny stepped on Lettuce avenue
something big and soft hit him between his left ear and his left hind
foot and knocked the breath right out of him. And so of course he
couldn't say "Oh, dear; oh, dear!" so I'm going to make the typewriter
say it for him.
And that will give him time to get his breath so that he can say it if
he wants to. Well, after that he looked around to find out what had hit
him, and what do you suppose it was that had knocked the "Oh, dear me!"
out of him! I'll tell you right away--a great big head of lettuce. There
it lay on the ground. So the little rabbit picked it up and was just
going to put it in his knapsack for his Uncle Lucky, when a cross voice
called out:
"Don't you touch that lettuce,
For it belongs to me,
And I am going to take it
Home with me for tea."
"Who are you?" asked the little rabbit, dropping the lettuce and looking
all around. But he couldn't see anybody, and neither can I, so I'm going
to let Billy Bunny look again. And this time he saw a Scarecrow in the
field close by.
And if the old clothes man doesn't throw another head of lettuce and hit
my typewriter so it won't talk to the paper I'll tell you another story
to-morrow.