animals, and real boys, too, are that way. It takes girls to go to
the dentist. They don’t mind a bit. All they’re afraid of is that
their hair ribbons may get bent, or twisted, but they are easily
fixed.
“I’ll not go,” said Sammie, and he cried real hard.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Littletail. “Whatever shall I do with you?”
“Ha! Perhaps I can help you!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, as he came
sailing gently down in his airship. “Sammie, you come for a ride with
me, and perhaps everything will be all right. Come in my airship.”
“Are we going to the dentist’s?” asked the rabbit boy.
“Well, we’ll just stop in and see how he is,” said Uncle Wiggily.
“Perhaps he may have a new way of pulling teeth that won’t hurt you
the least mite.”
Well, at first Sammie did not want to go, but finally he said he
would, and into the airship he got with Uncle Wiggily.
Up near the clouds they went, sailing along until they came to the
hollow stump office of the dentist, who was a bear gentleman, with
long claws, just made on purpose for pulling out the aching teeth of
the animal people.
“Here is my nephew, Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy,” said Uncle
Wiggily to the dentist bear. “He has an aching tooth!”
“And I want it pulled, but I am afraid it will hurt too much,” cried
Sammie.
“Oh, nonsensicalness!” exclaimed the dentist bear. “I can pull teeth
without anyone knowing it. Now did you ever tie a string around your
tooth, and then fasten a flatiron to the other end of the string, and
let the iron drop out of the window?”
“Yes,” said Sammie, “I have done that, and every time the flatiron
dropped the tooth came out, also. But it hurt!”
“Well, maybe a little bit,” said the dentist bear. “But did you ever
tie a string to the tooth you wanted pulled, and then tie the other
end of the string to the door-knob, and have some one open the door
suddenly, when you didn’t know it; ever do that?”
“Yes,” said Sammie, “I did. And the tooth came out that time, too.”
“Then we shall have to try a new way,” said the dentist bear. “Just
let me tie a string to your tooth, and we shall see what happens.”
“You won’t pull it; will you?” asked the rabbit boy.
“No, I won’t pull it,” answered the dentist bear, as he blinked both
his eyes at Uncle Wiggily sort of funny like.
So Sammie tied the string to his aching tooth; a good long strong
string it was. The dentist took the other end of the cord and
dropped it out of the window.
“What are you doing?” asked Sammie.
“You’ll see, in a minute,” answered the dentist. “Here, you just look
at this picture book for awhile,” and he gave Sammie one with many
prettily colored pictures in.
Well, when Sammie was looking at the picture book, the dentist took
the loose end of the string, that was on the rabbit boy’s tooth, and
tied it to Uncle Wiggily’s airship; tied the string I mean, not the
tooth.
“Now,” whispered the nice bear to the rabbit gentleman, “if you start
your airship all of a sudden you will pull on Sammie’s aching tooth,
and you’ll have it out in a jiffy, which is very quick indeed.”
“I’ll do it!” said Uncle Wiggily. So, while Sammie was sitting
there, with the string around his tooth, looking at the pictures and
wondering what was going to happen, all of a sudden Uncle Wiggily
started the airship. Up it went toward the clouds, pulling on the
string, and the next minute Sammie felt a tug, and a pull and a yank
and a jerk and, all of a sudden—out came his aching tooth.
“Oh!” he cried, jumping up. “What happened?”
“Your toothache is gone,” said the dentist bear gentleman. “Uncle
Wiggily pulled it away with his airship.”
“Oh, I am so glad!” cried Sammie, when it was all over. “I didn’t
know Uncle Wiggily was a dentist, too.”
Then his toothache stopped and he rode back home with the rabbit
gentleman in the airship, and everybody was happy. Mrs. Littletail,
especially, for Sammie had been very troublesome, though he did not
mean to be. So this teaches us that an airship is good for pulling
teeth, as well as for sailing up in the clouds.
And on the next page, if the pussy cat doesn’t fall out of the cherry
tree and scratch the covers off the pansy bed, where the puppy dog
sleeps, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the grocery cat.
[Illustration: Uncle Wiggily and sawfish]
STORY IX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE GROCERY CAT
Uncle Wiggily, the nice old gentleman rabbit, was working away out in
the yard fixing his airship. He had been riding around in it a great
deal of late, sailing up among the clouds, taking it out in rain
storms, and once he even sailed in it across the duck pond, coming
right down into the water with it.
And in doing all these things one of the handles of the clothes
basket, which was part of the airship, had become bent and twisted.
And some of the toy circus balloons needed to be blown up with fresh
air, and there was a hole in the Japanese umbrella, which formed the
top part of the airship, to keep the sun off Uncle Wiggily.
“Yes, I must fix up my airship,” said the rabbit gentleman as he
worked away, whistling and twinkling his nose at the same time, like
a star on a frosty night.
And that is very hard to do—to whistle and twinkle your nose at the
same time. If you do not believe me just try it yourself and see.
“Have you any more sofa cushions I could take for my airship, Nurse
Jane?” asked Uncle Wiggily, going into the house where the muskrat
lady housekeeper was boiling some carrots to make a lemon pie.
“Sofa cushions?” Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy cried. “What in the world do
you want of more sofa cushions?”
“To make another seat in the clothes basket of my airship,” answered
the rabbit gentleman. “You see, I have room for two persons in it,
and perhaps even three more of my animal friends, if we squeezed up
a bit, but I need more sofa cushions to make a soft place for my
company to land on in case we fall.”
“Well, I guess we have a few cushions left,” said the muskrat lady.
“But, please, don’t lose them.”
Uncle Wiggily said he wouldn’t and soon he had his airship all fixed
up with two nicely cushioned seats in it. Then he went back in the
house to get a turnip cookie, with cocoanut sprinkled on the bottom,
and he asked of Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, most politely:
“Won’t you come and take a ride in my airship, Nurse Jane?”
“Oh, my goodness me, sakes alive and some fried soap bubbles!” cried
the muskrat lady, surprised like. “No, indeed, thank you! I should be
dreadfully afraid.”
“There is no danger at all,” Uncle Wiggily said, but Nurse Jane would
not come out in the airship with him, and the rabbit gentleman had to
go sailing all alone by himself.
Up into the air he soared, looking down on the tree tops, and he
wished he had some one with him, for he was lonesome, Uncle Wiggily
was. But Charlie and Arabella Chick, the hen lady’s children, were
at school, and so were Sammie and Susie Littletail, the rabbits, and
Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels. In fact Bully and Bawly
No-Tail, the frog boys, and all the animal children were at school.
“I guess I can find no one to ride with me to-day,” sadly said
Uncle Wiggily, after he had called on Grandfather Goosey Gander and
found that the old goose gentleman had gone fishing after snails.
Dr. Possum, on whom the old rabbit gentleman also called, was busy
looking after the ill animals, so of course Dr. Possum could not go.
Well, Uncle Wiggily was getting more and more lonesome, and he was
thinking of going back home, when, all of a sudden, down on the
ground below him he heard some one saying:
“Oh, dear! Isn’t it too bad! Oh, such bad luck! and they want these
things for the party, too! Oh, sorrow! Oh, unhappiness! Oh, woe is
me!”
“My, some one must be having a whole bushel of trouble, and then some
more,” said Uncle Wiggily, sort of surprised like. “I must see what
this is.”
He made his airship go slowly down toward the ground, and then the
rabbit gentleman saw the delivery boy grocery cat standing near an
old stump, and looking down at a broken basket, that had been filled
with things from the store. But the things were all spilled now.
“Ha! What is the matter, Tom?” asked Uncle Wiggily of the grocery
cat. You see the cat’s name was Tom, and he worked at delivering
groceries from the grocery store.
“Oh, I have such a lot of trouble,” said Tom. “As I was going along
with the groceries just now, my basket handle broke, one of the sides
slipped out, and the groceries spilled all over.”
“That is too bad,” said Uncle Wiggily kindly, as he made his airship
go all the way down to the ground.
“And the worst of it is,” went on Tom, the grocery cat, “that the
basket is so broken that I can’t use it again. I have no other and
Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady, is in a hurry for these things. She
wants them for a party she is getting up for Lulu, Alice and Jimmie.
Oh, isn’t it too bad!”
“Yes, but it might be worse,” said Uncle Wiggily, cheerfully.
“Nothing is so bad but what it could be worse.”
“I don’t see how,” spoke Tom, the grocery cat. “I can’t deliver these
things, and Mrs. Wibblewobble will be so disappointed, and so will
Lulu and Alice and Jimmie.”
“Oh, it might easily be worse,” laughed Uncle Wiggily, as he twinkled
his nose twice and once more. “I might not have come along in my
airship to help you. But here I am, and I have just put a new
cushioned seat in the clothes basket, on purpose to give some one a
ride.
“Now you get right in with me, and pile in the groceries. Never mind
the broken basket. I’ll take you to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s house as fast
as anything, and then you can deliver the groceries.”
“Oh, how kind you are!” cried Tom. In a second he had his groceries
packed in Uncle Wiggily’s clothes basket airship. Then he and the
old rabbit gentleman took their seats, up went the airship, around
went the electric fan and pretty soon they were over the home of Mrs.
Wibblewobble, the duck lady.
“Groceries!” cried Tom the cat, just as if he were at the back door,
and when Uncle Wiggily lowered his airship, the things for the party
were put on the back stoop. And wasn’t the duck lady surprised to see
the groceries from the store come in an airship? Well, I guess she
was! But she was delighted, too!
Then Tom, the grocery cat, thanked Uncle Wiggily again for helping
him, and the rabbit gentleman took Tom back to the store, where he
got a new basket, and everybody was happy.
And on the next page, if our piano doesn’t go out to a phonograph
party and forget to come home to breakfast, I’ll tell you about Uncle
Wiggily and the smoky chimney.
STORY X
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SMOKY CHIMNEY
Once upon a time there was a Flump, who lived in animal land, not
far from where Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, had his
hollow stump bungalow with nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady.
This Flump lived in a house all by herhimself, and heshe was not a
very pleasant sort of an animal.
You see, a Flump is sometimes a he and sometimes a she, so I have to
mix up the words. And another thing—a Flump is always sad and cross
and unhappy, and tries to make others unhappy, too. So, whatever you
are, please, please, please never be a Flump.
A Flump can never see anything good in anything or anybody. Gracious,
if there were many Flumps in this world it would be a dreadful place
in which to live.
For instance, a Flump doesn’t like to see children playing tag and
running about, and a Flump doesn’t like to hear children laugh and
shout. If the Flumps had their way it would always be dark and
bedtime, and everybody would go in their houses and shut themselves
up and be gloomy and sad. There never would be any Christmas or
Fourth of July, and school would always be in, with no recess,
and there wouldn’t be any ice cream cones, or merry-go-rounds, or
peanuts, or toy balloons, or circus-lemonade, or anything like that.
However, thank goodness, there aren’t many Flumps in the world. But,
I am sorry to say, one lived near Uncle Wiggily. And one day when the
old gentleman rabbit was sailing around in his airship he happened to
land on the ground close by the house of this Flump.
Some of the wind came out of the toy circus balloons that Uncle
Wiggily had fastened on his clothes basket airship, and the rabbit
gentleman came down to blow more air in them.
The Flump saw him, and coming out of herhis house, with a sad, gloomy
face, the Flump said, most dolefully and sorrowfully:
“Oh, why do you waste your time riding around in your airship, Mr.
Longears? Why do you waste your time?”
“I do not waste my time,” said the rabbit gentleman cheerfully. “I
ride about, it is true, but whenever I see any one in trouble I help
them if I can.”
“Ah, yes, but how much better,” said the Flump, “how much better it
would be if you would sell your airship and put the money away where
you would always have it. Then you could stay in the house all day
and be sad, as I am. Oh, I love to be sad.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Wiggily, “I guess you do! You look it! But I do not
like to be sad. I like to be happy and make others happy if I can.”
“Happy!” cried the Flump. “There is no such thing as happiness! All
is sad and gloom! See, it is getting dark. It will soon be night, and
I’ll be glad, for then every one will have to go to bed.”
“No, it is not getting night,” said Uncle Wiggily; “that is only the
sun going under a cloud. It will soon come out shining again.” And,
surely enough it did, but the Flump was not happy.
“I am going in the house and take some bitter medicine,” said the
Flump, sadly like.
“Well, I hope it will do you good,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, cheerfully
and politely.
So the Flump went in herhis gloomy house, to take hisher bitter sour
medicine, and Uncle Wiggily fixed his airship. Pretty soon, just
as he was about to sail up toward the blue sky, where the sun was
shining, and the birds were singing, the Flump came running out,
crying:
“Oh, woe is me! Oh, unhappiness! I knew something would happen! My
house is on fire!”
Uncle Wiggily looked, and, surely enough, a lot of smoke was pouring
out of the doors and windows of the Flump animal’s house. Thicker and
thicker grew the smoke.
“Yes, there must be a fire!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “But don’t
worry! I’ll call out the water bug fire department, and we’ll soon
make everything right. Don’t worry!”
“Oh, but I just love to worry!” cried the Flump. “I am glad I have
something about which to worry! Oh, unhappiness!”
But Uncle Wiggily had no time to worry. Into his airship he jumped,
and off he flew to get the fire department.
He brought back the brave water bugs with their buckets of water, but
when they had rushed in the Flump’s house they came out, saying, as
they wiped the smoke out of their eyes:
“There is no fire there!”
“No fire?” cried Uncle Wiggily. “But look at the smoke.”
“The chimney is stopped up,” said the head water bug. “There is
something in the chimney, and when the Flump built a fire all the
smoke came out into the room, instead of going up the flue.”
“Oh, I knew something was the matter,” sobbed the Flump. “And I am
glad of it. Now I can be more unhappy than ever.”
“Oh, fie!” cried Uncle Wiggily, twinkling his nose. “It is wrong to
be sad and unhappy! Besides, I can soon make you happy.”
“How can I be glad when my chimney smokes?” asked the Flump. “It is
all stopped up.”
“Well, perhaps we can unstop it,” said the rabbit gentleman. “We will
try.”
The water bugs tried to get whatever it was out of the chimney, but
they could not. Neither could a policeman dog, who came in, and
barked up the fireplace as hard as he could bark. Then Uncle Wiggily
said:
“I will now use my airship. I’ll go up above the chimney and poke a
long pole down the chimney hole.” He did this, and a loose brick that
had fallen down the flue, stopping it up, was poked out by the rabbit
gentleman, and then the chimney did not smoke any more. A fire could
now be built in the stove.
“Be happy now, Flump!” cried Uncle Wiggily, cheerfully. And all the
water bugs cried:
“Yes, be happy!”
And then, all of a sudden, when the Flump saw how kind every one was
to himher, and how anxious every one was for herhim to be glad, the
Flump just turned up the corners of hisher mouth—instead of turning
them down—and heshe took off the dark spectacles shehe wore, and put
on a pair with beautiful rose-colored glasses, so that all the world
looked cheerful, and the Flump said:
“Yes, I will be glad! I’m sorry I was ever sad!”
“Oh, don’t even be sorry that you were once sad,” cried Uncle
Wiggily, joyfully; “just be glad you are glad, and don’t ever
remember you were sad!”
“I’ll always be glad now,” went on the Flump, who turned out to be a
nice old lady Grandmother, after all her troubles were over. Then she
made up a fire in the stove, the chimney didn’t smoke any more and
the Flump made a big chocolate cake and gave every one some. And ever
after that the Flump was named Scrump, instead of Flump. For Scrump
is short for scrumptious, which means just lovely, you know. And
Uncle Wiggily took Scrump for a ride in the airship, and they picked
flowers up in cloudland.
And in the next story, if robin redbreast doesn’t take our milk
bottle for his bath tub and go picking strawberries off the rose
bush, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the church bell.
STORY XI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE CHURCH BELL
“Here is a package for you, Mr. Longears,” said Nurse Jane Fuzzy
Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she entered the dining-room,
of the hollow stump bungalow, where the rabbit gentleman was eating
his breakfast right after supper—the next day, of course.
“A package for me—how nice!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. “Let me
see—what day is it?”
“I don’t see that it makes any difference,” spoke Nurse Jane. “A
package is a package any day.”
“Ah, yes, very true,” admitted Uncle Wiggily. “But a package on April
Fools’ day is quite different from one on Christmas.”
“So it is,” said the muskrat lady with a laugh. “But as it happens,
this is not April Fools’ day.”
“No, it is not,” admitted Uncle Wiggily, “and in that case I will
open the package. Who brought it?”
“Billie Bushytail, the squirrel boy, on his way to school left it
for you,” answered Nurse Jane.
“And from whom did it come?” Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.
“You had better open it and see,” suggested Nurse Jane.
Uncle Wiggily did so, and what do you s’pose he found? Why in the
package was a lovely chocolate cake, with cocoanut on top, and a
yellow carrot in the middle. And there was a little card on which was
written:
“From the Scrump, who used to be a Flump, to Dear Uncle Wiggily.”
“Ha!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. “This is very nice. I am
glad I helped change the Flump into a Scrump.”
I told you that story on the page before this, you remember. The
Flump was a curious, sad sort of a mixed-up animal, but when Uncle
Wiggily fixed her smoky chimney, the Flump turned into a Scrump,
which is short for Scrumptious, and scrumptious means lovely.
“My! that is good chocolate cake,” said the gentleman rabbit, passing
Nurse Jane a large slice. “Just give it away to the animal children
when they come home from school.”
“That’s just like you!” cried the muskrat lady. “Giving away
everything you get! Why don’t you eat it yourself?”
“I had rather see others eat it,” replied Uncle Wiggily. And I might
say that if ever you feel yourself turning into a Flump, just start
giving things away, or making others happy, and you’ll become a
Scrump right away. And it’s much nicer to be a Scrump than a Flump.
“Where are you going?” asked Nurse Jane, as Uncle Wiggily got up from
the table.
“Out for a ride in my airship,” replied the rabbit gentleman. “It is
a lovely day, and I might find some in trouble whom I could help.
Yes, I shall go for a little ride.”
“Well, don’t fall,” begged Nurse Jane, and Uncle Wiggily promised
that he would not. Soon he was soaring and flying up near the clouds
in his airship, that was made from a clothes basket, some circus
balloons, a Japanese umbrella and an electric fan.
Pretty soon, in a little while, not so very long, Uncle Wiggily
heard, down on the earth, some one saying most sadly:
“Oh, dear! Now I am in trouble!”
“My! I wonder if that’s Tom, the grocery cat, who has another broken
basket?” said Uncle Wiggily to himself. “If it is I must help him.”
He looked down and found that, right under him, was a big church with
a steeple and in front of the church was the sexton, or janitor, a
very nice man, indeed, if you will kindly allow me to say so.
“Oh, dear! Such trouble!” cried the sexton man, sadly.
“What is the trouble?” asked Uncle Wiggily kindly, as he lowered his
airship. “Perhaps I can help you.”
“I’m afraid not,” answered the janitor. “You see, the rope by which
I pull the church bell is broken. To-morrow is Sunday and I have not
time to mend the rope. I can’t ring the bell, and unless I do make it
jingle ding-dong, the people will not hear it and will not come to
church.”
“Ha! That is too bad!” agreed Uncle Wiggily. “For going to church
does every one good. But won’t they come even if the bell doesn’t
ring?”
“I am afraid not,” said the sexton man. “You see, the bell has been
rung every Sunday for years and years and years. The people have
become used to it. They don’t even look at their clocks, but when
they hear the bell go ‘ding-dong!’ they say: ‘Ah! it is time to go to
church.’ But now, alas, the rope is broken and I will not be able to
ring the Sunday bell to-morrow.”
“Don’t worry,” said Uncle Wiggily, with a laugh. “And don’t be gloomy
like a Flump, whatever happens. Perhaps I may be able to help you.”
But the sexton man did not think so, and he was quite sad. He tried
to fix the bell rope, but he could not, and it looked as though the
bell would not ring for Sunday church.
But what did Uncle Wiggily do? Listen, as the telephone girl says,
and I will tell you. Sunday morning, bright and early, the rabbit
gentleman took a lot of stones in the clothes basket and he went
sailing up in his airship.
Right up over the church spire he sailed, and he hovered over the
steeple and the bell, and, when it was time for church, the rabbit
gentleman threw stones at the bell. And, as he was a good shot, he
hit it every time.
“Crack!” went a stone on the bell, and the bell went “Ding-dong!
Ding-dong!” slowly and solemn-like. More stones did Uncle Wiggily
throw from his airship, and every time the rabbit gentleman hit it
the bell rang just as well as though the sexton had pulled the rope.
“Ha!” cried all the people. “There goes the bell! It is time for
church!”
So they went, and were not late, but they were much surprised when
they saw Uncle Wiggily in his airship, throwing stones at the bell to
ring it.
And when all the people were in their seats, Uncle Wiggily didn’t
have to ring the bell any more. He came down out of his airship and
went to church himself, and everybody was happy, and the sexton was
most especially thankful to the rabbit gentleman.
So that’s all now, if you please, but next, if my typewriter doesn’t
go in swimming and get its hair ribbon all wet, so it’s as crinkly as
a corkscrew, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the doll’s house.
STORY XII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE DOLL HOUSE
“Oh, I’m so happy! So happy,” sang Susie Littletail, the rabbit girl,
as she hopped on her way home from school one afternoon.
“Why are you so happy?” asked Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girl, as
she picked up a stone in her webbed foot and tossed it into the pond.
I mean she tossed the stone—not her foot. Lulu could throw a stone
almost as good as a boy.
“Why, I am happy because my papa is going to give me a doll house
for my birthday, which is to-morrow,” went on Susie. “Oh, it is the
loveliest doll house! I saw it in a toy-store window, and papa is
going to get it for me.”
“I wish I had a doll house,” spoke Lulu, sadly like.
“I’ll let you play with mine,” Susie answered. “It is a large one,
with room for two dolls, anyhow.”
“Oh, thank you, so much!” exclaimed Lulu, and then she and Susie
hurried on, stopping only to pick a few wild flowers that grew by the
path which turned and twisted through the woods.
“When am I going to get my doll house, papa?” asked Susie at the
supper table that evening.
“I will have it for you when I come home to-morrow night,” promised
the rabbit gentleman. “I am having some of the rooms papered for you.”
“Oh, how lovely!” cried Susie, clapping her paws.
The lady mouse teacher at the hollow stump school, where the little
rabbit girl and all the other animal children attended, allowed Susie
to come home early on her birthday, and Susie ran all the way.
“I’m so anxious to see my doll house!” cried Susie.
But, here comes the sad part of the story. I’ll make it as short as I
can, though.