Part 3

“Oh, but there’s a hat with real radishes on, up on the next floor!” said the little rabbit girl, as she laid aside the carrot hat. “Let’s go look at that!”

Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily had to hop after, groaning at his aching joints. Baby Bunty tried on the radish hat.

“That’s fine!” said Uncle Wiggily. “Buy it!”

“Oh, but there’s one on the next floor with a cabbage leaf crown. I want you to see how I look in that!” said Baby Bunty. Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her. She tried on the cabbage hat.

“Buy it! Oh, buy it!” begged the bunny.

“Oh, but on the next floor is a hat with cucumber salad all around the edges!” said Bunty. “I might look better in that!” Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her.

Well, sir, Baby Bunty tried on forty-’leven hats before she found one she liked, and by that time Uncle Wiggily was so lively, from hopping up and down stairs, that he felt real reckless like and sporty, and he bought two ice cream cones. He said he felt so good he had to have a treat.

“I thought you’d like to come shopping!” said Baby Bunty. And Uncle Wiggily only twinkled his pink nose. But if the molasses jug doesn’t take the candy stick to beat the parlor rug when it’s trying to race with the kitchen oilcloth, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s shoes.

STORY X UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SHOES

“Uncle Wiggily, I am sorry to trouble you,” said Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper to the bunny rabbit gentleman one day, “but do you think you could go to the store for me? Or are you too stiff? Is your rheumatism too bad?”

Uncle Wiggily looked all around the hollow stump bungalow before answering. Then he asked:

“Is Baby Bunty here?”

“Not just now,” replied Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, trying not to smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if I say I’m too stiff and old to go to the store for you she’ll say I’m not too stiff to play tag with her. And I certainly am!” said Uncle Wiggily, positive like and semi-emphatic. “I don’t want to move about quickly at all today. I just want to go slow and easy like.”

“Then you may,” said Nurse Jane. “I only want you to go to the store for me and get Baby Bunty’s shoes!”

“What’s that?” cried Mr. Longears, and he gave such a jump that his pink nose stopped twinkling. “I thought you said you wanted me to go to the store for _you_, Nurse Jane.”

“So I do. I’d have to go after Bunty’s shoes if you didn’t, and, really, I haven’t time. But you don’t have to take Baby Bunty, so you may hop as slowly as you like. I took her down and she tried on the shoes yesterday. I left them to be stretched. All you have to do is to bring them home.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I like Baby Bunty, and all that, but when I want to hop slowly she wants to play tag and the like of such nonsense. I’ll go to the store alone.”

Away he started, leaning on his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of a cornstalk. And Uncle Wiggily had not hopped very far before he heard a voice calling:

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Wait a minute!”

“My goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut hash!” thought the bunny rabbit. “I hope that isn’t the Pipsisewah or the Skuddlemagoon after me!”

He was just going to hide behind a tree when he saw that it was Baby Bunty who was hopping along through the woods.

“Wait a minute, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried.

“Well, something is surely going to happen now,” thought the bunny rabbit.

It did not take long for Baby Bunty to catch up to Mr. Longears, for she was a lively little rabbit girl.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she gasped. “I know where you are going! You are going after my new shoes. I heard Nurse Jane tell you! I was playing tag down behind the rain water barrel. I didn’t mean to listen, but I couldn’t help hearing. Please take me with you.”

Well, what could Uncle Wiggily do? He didn’t want to hurt Baby Bunty’s feelings, and he certainly was going after her shoes. So he said:

“Now, look here, Baby Bunty! No tricks, you know! No making me hop up and down stairs to look at you try on new hats, you know!”

“Of course not!” laughed the little rabbit girl. “Besides, we are going after shoes today, and I don’t have to try them on. Nurse Jane helped me buy them yesterday. I’ll be good.”

“And please be quiet—don’t make me do any extra hopping today!” begged the bunny rabbit gentleman. “My joints are too stiff.”

Baby Bunty had a funny little twinkle in her eyes as she hopped along with Mr. Longears. Soon they were at the shoe store and a nice rat gentleman handed Mr. Longears a neat package.

“Well, this isn’t so bad,” thought the bunny rabbit. “There’s to be no trying on, and, in consequence, there can be no hopping up and down stairs.”

With the shoe package under one leg, and holding Bunty’s paw in his other one, Uncle Wiggily started back for the hollow stump bungalow.

“Can’t we go any faster than this?” asked Baby Bunty. “I want to hurry home and wear my new shoes.”

“Oh, this is fast enough for my rheumatic joints,” spoke the rabbit gentleman, contented like.

Baby Bunty started to run backward.

“Why—why—where are you going?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“Oh, I think the man forgot to put any laces in my new shoes!” cried Baby Bunty. “I must run back and get them. You wait for me, Uncle Wiggily.”

“No, I can’t wait,” said Mr. Longears. “I must go with you, to see that you don’t get lost!”

Back ran Baby Bunty and back ran Uncle Wiggily. And when they reached the shoe store the rat gentleman said:

“Why, the lacers are in the shoes!”

“Oh, how silly of me!” said Baby Bunty. “So they are! Now we must hop along fast, Uncle Wiggily, or it will be dark before we get home!” So, whether he liked it or not, Uncle Wiggily had to hop along very fast, and so did Baby Bunty. But it’s a good thing they did, for, when they were almost at the hollow stump bungalow, out popped the bad Pipsisewah, trying to get the new shoes.

And, only that Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty were hopping so fast, the Pip might have caught them.

But he didn’t, I am glad to say, and when Baby Bunty reached home and tried on her new shoes they fitted perfectly, and Uncle Wiggily wasn’t hardly stiff at all. And if the lawn mower doesn’t try to cut a slice off the cake of soap for the goldfish to take a bath, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s hair ribbon.

STORY XI UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S RIBBON

Once upon a time Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, who was hidden in a hollow stump until she was found, said to Uncle Wiggily:

“Will you come with me for a walk in the woods today?”

“Why, yes, Baby Bunty, I think I will,” answered Mr. Longears. “But I am a bit stiff, and my rheumatism hurts a little, so please don’t ask me to chase you or do anything exciting like that.”

“I won’t,” promised Baby Bunty, but, as she tied her red sky-blue pink hair ribbon around her neck, the little rabbit girl smiled in a queer way.

“No,” she said to herself, as Uncle Wiggily took his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch down off the fence post, “I won’t make him chase me, but I’ll keep him from going to sleep. He’s a dear old rabbit gentleman, but he’s getting old—or he thinks he is. I must keep him lively!”

So Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty hopped off through the woods. Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy stood in the doorway of the hollow stump bungalow and watched them.

“My! Baby Bunty has on her best hair ribbon today,” said the muskrat lady housekeeper. “I hope nothing happens to it.”

As Baby Bunty hopped along, now running ahead of Uncle Wiggily and now lagging behind to pick a pretty flower, all of a sudden her green yellow brown hair ribbon caught on a bush and the bow was untied.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Please tie my hair ribbon!” cried Baby Bunty with a laugh.

Uncle Wiggily leaned on his red white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and, with his paws, tied Baby Bunty’s ribbon.

“There!” he said, as he patted down the big bow, which looked like the wings of a butterfly, “I hope your hair ribbon doesn’t come untied again.”

“I hope so, too,” said Baby Bunty.

On and on she hopped through the woods with Uncle Wiggily. They were looking for a nice place for the little rabbit girl to play. All of a sudden, as she was peeping down in a robin’s nest, to see how big the little birds were, her hair ribbon caught on a branch of a tree, and loose the bow came again.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Will you please tie my hair ribbon?” cried Baby Bunty with a laugh.

“Dear me!” said Uncle Wiggily. “That’s a very loose ribbon, Baby Bunty! I ought to have brought some glue to make the bow stay tied fast.”

But he fixed it for the little rabbit girl, and on they hopped again. Pretty soon they came to a beautiful place in the woods. On the ground was a soft velvet carpet of green grass. Around it was a fringe of ferns. Overhead was a big umbrella of trees, which kept off the hot sun.

“Here is a good place for you to play, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle Wiggily. “You may gather flowers, hop on the grass or even turn somersaults.”

“And what are you going to do, Uncle Wiggily?” asked the little rabbit girl.

“Oh, I shall go to sleep,” said the old gentleman rabbit.

Baby Bunty wrinkled up her nose in a funny little way, but she didn’t say anything—just then. Uncle Wiggily found a soft stump for a seat, with a soft mossy covered tree for a back rest, and there he sat down. Pretty soon his eyes closed, his pink nose stopped twinkling, and he was asleep.

“Oh, dear!” said Baby Bunty. “This isn’t any fun—to have him go to sleep! Ah, I know what I’ll do!”

She played around a little, turning peppersaults and somersaults, and, all at once, she gave her hair ribbon a little pull.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried, running up to the rabbit gentleman. “My ribbon is untied again! Please fix it for me!”

Uncle Wiggily opened his eyes and grunted.

“It seems to me your hair ribbon is always coming untied,” he said. But he made a nice fancy bow for Baby Bunty, and then he went to sleep again, while she played about. But, pretty soon back she hopped.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried.

“What!” exclaimed the old rabbit gentleman. “Is your hair ribbon loose again? Am I never to get any sleep?”

“It isn’t my hair ribbon this time,” said Baby Bunty. “But I saw a big fox sneaking along in the bushes behind you, and I thought he might bite some souse off your ears, so I woke you up!”

“I’m glad you did!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “And you awakened me just in time, too. Now we can run away before the fox gets us!”

And run away they did, and the old fox didn’t get them.

“But I would have had a nice lot of souse off Uncle Wiggily’s ears, if Baby Bunty hadn’t awakened him,” said the fox, hungry like.

And, if the green grass doesn’t turn pink when the red rose leaves fall on it, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s ball.

STORY XII UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S BALL

“Will you come for another nice walk in the woods, today, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, as she danced around the hollow stump bungalow where she lived with Mr. Longears.

“Hum! Another nice walk in the woods, eh?” asked Uncle Wiggily, suspicious like and premeditated. “Are you going to wear a big hair ribbon bow, that comes untied all the while?” he asked.

“Oh, no!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I’ll only wear a tiny bow today. I won’t keep waking you up all the time to tie it for me.”

That’s what Baby Bunty did in the story before this, if you will kindly remember. But, after all, it was a good thing she did. On account of the fox, you know.

“Well, come along!” said Uncle Wiggily, after he had asked his muskrat lady housekeeper, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, what they were going to have for dinner.

“May I bring my rubber ball?” asked Baby Bunty, as she came out of the hollow stump bungalow with a very small pumpkin-colored hair ribbon around her ears.

“Oh, yes, bring your ball along,” said Uncle Wiggily kindly. “But please don’t sprinkle any water from it on me while I’m asleep.”

“I won’t,” promised Baby Bunty. And then, as Uncle Wiggily hopped along on his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and as Baby Bunty ran along beside him, the little rabbit girl said: “Oh, dear! If he’s going to sleep every time we come to the woods, I’ll have no fun at all. But maybe I’ll find a way to keep him awake,” she said to herself, as she bounced her rubber ball.

On they went through the green woods, Baby Bunty running to and fro as fast as an automobile, and Uncle Wiggily coming along more like a trolley car, substantial-like, though unpoetical. The little rabbit girl picked pretty flowers now and then, while Mr. Longears chewed a bit of birch bark, or nibbled at sassafras and wintergreen, hoping it would cure his rheumatism.

“Now here is a nice place for you to play, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle Wiggily when they reached a green glade in the forest. “And I’ll just sit down on this soft, mossy log and think a bit.”

“Yes, I know what that means!” whispered Baby Bunty to herself. “It means he’ll go to sleep and won’t play tag or anything with me, and I can’t have any fun! Oh, dear!”

She bounced her ball on a bare, sandy place, while Uncle Wiggily picked out the softest, green, mossy log he could find. He laid aside his rheumatism crutch, took off his tall silk hat, and, folding his paws over his red vest, closed his eyes. His pink nose stopped twinkling.

“He’s asleep!” said Baby Bunty.

All of a sudden her bouncing rubber ball gave a big jump, and before the little rabbit girl could get her paws on it the rubber ball bounded right over on Uncle Wiggily’s bare head.

“Oh, I say! A-ker-choo! What’s that?” he cried, waking up all at once, and not partly, as he did sometimes.

“It is only my rubber ball!” said Bunty sweetly. “I’m so sorry it struck you! But, now that you are awake, don’t you want to play tag with me?”

“Not now,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I will later. I haven’t had my nap out yet. Please be careful of your ball, Baby Bunty.”

“I will,” said the little rabbit girl with a smile.

Uncle Wiggily closed his eyes again, and he was just slumbering nicely, when, just as Baby Bunty gave her rubber ball an extra hard bounce, away it flew again, and this time it landed right on the rabbit gentleman’s pink nose.

“My goodness me, sakes alive and some rice pudding without any raisins in!” he cried. “What’s that?”

“Only my rubber ball,” said Bunty, sweetly. “I’m sorry it awakened you. Don’t you want to——”

“I want to finish my nap,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Please go away far off and bounce your ball, Bunty.”

Once more he went to sleep. Baby Bunty, with a funny look on her face, hopped off in the woods. Then, all of a sudden, through the trees came flying her rubber ball. Straight as an arrow it flew, and it struck Uncle Wiggily right on his red vest.

“Oh, my goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut lollypops!” he cried. “Is that your ball again, Bunty?”

“Yes,” said the little rabbit girl, “it is. I was trying to throw it so Bully No-Tail, the frog boy, could toss it back to me. But I guess I didn’t throw straight enough. I’m sorry my ball hit you, Uncle Wiggily, but, now that you are awake, don’t you want to——”

“Oh, yes, I’ll play tag or hide-and-go seek or even turn somersaults!” laughed the bunny.

“Between you and your ball, Baby Bunty, I’ll never get any sleep!”

“I thought you wouldn’t,” said Baby Bunty, smiling in a funny way. Then she and Mr. Longears had lots of fun. And, if the sunshine doesn’t tickle the raindrops and make them fall on the umbrella plant, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s carriage.

STORY XIII UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S CARRIAGE

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily, Uncle Wiggily,” called a jolly voice one day outside the hollow stump bungalow, where Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman, lived with Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper.

“Ha! I wonder if that’s Sammie or Susie Littletail, or Johnnie or Billie Bushytail?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he turned a leaf of the cabbage newspaper he was reading.

“That’s Baby Bunty,” said Nurse Jane. “I guess she wants you to take her for a ride in her little red carriage. I see she has it out in front.”

“Oh, I can’t play with Baby Bunty today!” said Uncle Wiggily quickly. “I must go over and call on Grandfather Goosey Gander.”

“Baby Bunty will be so disappointed,” spoke Nurse Jane.

“It’s too bad,” agreed Mr. Longears. “But I must have a little rest and quiet. Baby Bunty is so lively!”

“Well, she keeps you that way, too,” said the muskrat lady. “And, on the whole, perhaps it is a good thing for you. I believe you have become younger these last two weeks.”

“Hum!” said Uncle Wiggily, noncommital like and unconvinced. “Anyhow I can’t play with Baby Bunty this morning.”

And when he told this to the little rabbit girl, whom he had found in a hollow stump, she said:

“Oh, dear! Then I’ll have to go off in the woods by myself and pick wild flowers. But will you play with me some other time, Uncle Wiggily, and chase me and have a game of tag and all that?”

“Yes,” promised Uncle Wiggily, as he put on his tall silk hat, and looked to see if his pink nose was twinkling properly, “I’ll play with you later.”

So he went one way through the woods, and Baby Bunty went another, pushing her carriage, in which she often used to be wheeled when she was smaller than she was now.

“Don’t get lost!” said Uncle Wiggily, as he waved his paw to the little rabbit girl.

“I’ll try not to,” she said.

Uncle Wiggily had a nice visit with his old friend, Grandfather Goosey Gander. They talked about the time when they were young and spry.

“But I’m getting old and stiff now,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“You need some one to keep you lively,” quacked Grandpa Goosey.

“Oh, I have some one!” laughed Mr. Longears. “You should see Baby Bunty! Say, now I think of it, come on back to my hollow stump bungalow and stay to lunch. I’ll show you Baby Bunty—if she’s home. But she’s nearly always out in the woods, hopping around. She started off with her carriage just before I came here. Perhaps she went to get some one to give her a ride, as I had no time. Come and see Baby Bunty.”

“I will!” promised Grandfather Goosey Gander.

Together he and Uncle Wiggily went through the woods. But they had not traveled very far before, all at once, Grandpa Goosey cried:

“Look there, Uncle Wiggily! What’s that rolling down the hill in front of us? It looks like a baby carriage!”

“It is!” cried Mr. Longears, as he peered through his spectacles. “It’s Baby Bunty’s carriage, and it’s running away down hill. Oh, she’ll be hurt! I must hop after that carriage and stop it!”

“You never can catch that carriage!” quacked Grandpa Goosey. “It’s rolling down hill too fast! You are so old and stiff, like myself——”

“Am I old and stiff?” cried Uncle Wiggily. “You just watch me hop!”

He jammed his tall silk hat down on his head, took a tight hold of his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and down the hill he leaped.

Faster and faster rolled Baby Bunty’s carriage! Faster and faster hopped Uncle Wiggily, his coat tails streaming out behind like two girls’s hair ribbons.

“I’ll save you, Bunty! I’ll save you!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Don’t jump out of the carriage. I’ll get you! I can hop fast, even if I am stiff!”

With one big, extra long hop he reached the carriage, and caught hold of it in his paws just as it was going to tip over. He looked inside, thinking to see Baby Bunty half frightened out of her eye teeth, but, instead, there was only a big bouquet of wild flowers.

“Well! Well! What does this mean?” asked Uncle Wiggily, all out of breath, but still not stiff any more. “What is all this?”

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Baby Bunty, from the top of the hill, where she stood with Grandpa Goosey, “did you think I was in that runaway carriage?”

“I certainly did!” answered Mr. Longears.

“Why, I wasn’t at all!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I just used it to hold the wild flowers I picked. And when I wheeled it to the top of the hill it slipped away from me, and ran down. My! But you did run fast, Uncle Wiggily!”

“I should say he did!” quacked Granda Goosey. “Faster than I ever saw him hop before.”

“But it’s good for his rheumatism,” spoke Baby Bunty.

Mr. Longears never said a word as he wheeled the carriage up hill. But if the ice cream doesn’t melt when the gas stove asks it to dance the fox trot, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s party.

STORY XIV UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S PARTY

“My goodness me, sakes alive, Nurse Jane!” cried Uncle Wiggily Longears one morning, as he came downstairs in his hollow stump bungalow. “Why are you making so many cakes, pies and jam tarts? You have enough for a picnic!”

“These are for Baby Bunty!” explained the muskrat lady housekeeper.

“What! Is she going to eat all those?” asked Uncle Wiggily, surprised-like, not to say disconcerted.

“Oh, I’m going to let her have a play party in the yard,” explained Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. “Baby Bunty has been a good little girl lately, and when she asked me if she couldn’t have a party, with real cakes and cookies, I said yes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all. Not at all!” quickly cried Uncle Wiggily. “If Baby Bunty has a party she won’t want me to chase her, or play tag, or go off to the woods to keep young and from getting stiff. If she has a party I can have a good sleep and rest.”

[Illustration: [Uncle Wiggily]]