UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE JACK HORSE
"Well, where are you going to-day, Uncle Wiggily?" asked Nurse Jane
Fuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she saw the rabbit gentleman
putting on his tall silk hat, and taking his red, white and blue
striped rheumatism crutch down off the mantel.
"I am going over to see Nannie and Billy Wagtail, the goat
children," answered the bunny uncle. "I have not seen them in a long
while."
"But they'll be at school," said Nurse Jane.
"I'll wait until they come home, then," said Uncle Wiggily. "And
while I'm waiting I'll talk to Uncle Butter, the nice old gentleman
goat."
So off started Uncle Wiggily over the fields and through the woods.
Pretty soon he came to the house where the family of Wagtail goats
lived. They were given that name because they wagged their little
short tails so very fast, sometimes up and down, and again sideways.
"Why, how do you do, Uncle Wiggily?" asked Mrs. Wagtail, as she
opened the door for the rabbit gentleman. "Come and sit down."
"Thank you," he answered. "I called to see Nannie and Billie. But I
suppose they are at school."
"Yes, they are studying their lessons."
"Well, I'll come in then, and talk to Uncle Butter, for I suppose
you are busy."
"Yes, I am, but not too busy to talk to you, Mr. Longears," said the
goat lady. "Uncle Butter is away, pasting up some circus posters on
the billboard, and I wish he'd come back, for I want him to go to
the store for me."
"Couldn't I go?" asked Uncle Wiggily, politely. "I have nothing
special to do, and I often go to the store for Nurse Jane. I'd like
to go for you."
"Very well, you may," said Mrs. Wagtail. "I want for supper some
papers off a tomato can, and a few more off a can of corn, and here
is a basket to put them in. And you might bring a bit of brown
paper, so I can make soup of it."
"I will," said Uncle Wiggily, starting off with the basket on his
paw. Goats, you know, like the papers that come off cans, as the
papers have sweet paste on them. And they also like brown grocery
paper itself, for it has straw in it, and goats like straw. Of
course, goats eat other things besides paper, though.
Uncle Wiggily was going carefully along, for there was ice and snow
on the ground, and it was slippery, and he did not want to fall.
Soon he was at the paper store, where he bought what Mrs. Wagtail
wanted.
And on the way back to the goat lady's house something happened to
the old rabbit gentleman. As he stepped over a big icicle he put his
foot down on a slippery snowball some little animal chap had left on
the path, and, all of a sudden, bango! down went Uncle Wiggily,
basket of paper, rheumatism crutch and all.
"Ouch!" cried the rabbit gentleman, "I fear something is broken,"
for he heard a cracking sound as he fell.
He looked at his paws and legs and felt of his big ears. They seemed
all right. Then he looked at the basket of paper. That was crumpled
up, but not broken, and the bunny uncle's tall silk hat, while it
had a few dents in, was not smashed.
"Oh, dear! It's my rheumatism crutch," cried Uncle Wiggily. "It's
broken in two, and how am I ever going to walk without it this
slippery day I don't see. Oh, my goodness me sakes alive and some
bang-bang tooth powder!"
Carefully the rabbit gentleman arose, but as he had no red, white
and blue striped crutch to lean on, he nearly fell again.
"I guess I'd better stay sitting down," thought Uncle Wiggily.
"Perhaps some one may come along, and I can ask them go get Nurse
Jane to gnaw for me another rheumatism crutch out of a corn-stalk.
I'll wait here until help comes."
Uncle Wiggily waited quite a while, but no one passed by.
"It will soon be time for Billie and Nannie Wagtail to pass by on
their way from school," thought the bunny uncle. "I could send them
for another crutch, I suppose."
So he waited a little longer, and then, as no one came, he tried to
walk with his broken crutch. But he could not. Then Uncle Wiggily
cried:
"Help! Help! Help!" but still no one came. "Oh, dear!" said the
rabbit gentleman, "if only Mother Goose would fly past, riding on
the back of her gander, she might take me home." He looked up, but
Mother Goose was not sweeping cobwebs out of the sky that day, so he
did not see her.
Then, all of a sudden, as the rabbit gentleman sat there, wondering
how he was going to walk on the slippery ice and snow without his
crutch to help him, he heard a jolly voice singing:
"Ride a Jack horse to Banbury Cross,
To see an old lady jump on a white horse.
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes."
And with that along through the woods came riding a nice, old lady
on a rocking-horse. And on the side of the rocking-horse was painted
in red ink the name:
JACK
"Why, hello, Uncle Wiggily!" called the nice old lady, shaking her
toes and making the bells jingle a pretty tune. "What is the matter
with you?" she asked.
"Oh, I am in such trouble," replied the bunny uncle. "I fell down on
a slippery snowball, and broke my crutch. Without it I cannot walk,
and I want to take these papers to Mrs. Wagtail, the goat lady, to
eat."
"Ha! If that is all your trouble I can soon fix matters!" cried the
jolly old lady. "Here, get up beside me on my Jack horse, and I'll
ride you to Mrs. Wagtail's, and then take you home to your
hollow-stump bungalow."
"Oh, will you? How kind!" said Uncle Wiggily. "Thank you! But have
you the time?"
"Lots of time," laughed the old lady. "It doesn't really matter when
I get to Banbury Cross. Come on!"
Uncle Wiggily got up on the back of the Jack horse, behind the old
lady. She tinkled the rings on her fingers and jingled the bells on
her toes, and so, of course, she'll have music wherever she goes.
"Just as the Mother Goose books says," spoke the bunny uncle. "Oh,
I'm glad you came along."
"So am I," said the nice old lady. Then she took Uncle Wiggily to
the Wagtail house, where he left the basket of papers, and next he
rode on the Jack horse to his bungalow, and, after the bunny uncle
had thanked the old lady, she, herself, rode on to Banbury Cross, to
see another old lady jump on a white horse. And very nicely she did
it too, let me tell you.
So everything came out all right, and in the next chapter, if the
apple pie doesn't turn a somersault and crack its crust so the juice
runs out, I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the clock-mouse.