 CHAPTER XXI. People Wiggly and the Poor Dog. Once upon a time there was a dog so poor that he had no kennel to sleep in. He made his bed in old boxes and barrels along the street, or behind stores, and as for things to eat, that poor dog thought himself lucky if he found a bone without any meat on it. Oh, he was dreadfully poor, was that dog. He had no collar to wear, though of course he did not miss a necktie, for dogs never wear those. But when this dog saw other dogs with shiny brass or nickel collars around their necks, when he saw some of them riding in automobiles as he splashed through the mud, and when he looked over in yards and saw some dogs gnawing juicy meaty bones in front of their warm kennels, this poor dog sometimes felt sad. I don't see what use I am in this world, thought the poor dog as he chased away a tickling fly who wanted to ride on his tail. I certainly can't help anyone, for I can hardly help myself. I think I'll go off in the woods and get lost. Yes, that's what I'll do," barked the poor dog, get lost. Perhaps if he had had a good breakfast that morning with a biscuit or two, or even a slice of puppy-cake, he might have been more happy. As it was after crawling out of an empty rain-water barrel where he had slept all night, and after finding only a small bone for his breakfast, this dog went off to the woods. Good-bye, everybody! He softly barked as he stood on the edge of the forest and looked back toward the village he was leaving. But there was no one even to bark a farewell to him. All alone the poor dog started into the woods. Good-bye! he whined. Now in the same forest on the opposite side from the trees nearest the village stood the hollow stump bungalow of Uncle Wiggly Long Ears. And this same morning that the poor dog decided to lose himself, the bunny-rabbit gentleman started out with his tall silk hat, his red-white-and-blue-striped rheumatism crutch, and his pink-twinkling nose to look for an adventure. Keep your eyes open for Woolsey-Wool for the fuzzy fox, called Nurse Jane the muskrat-lady housekeeper as Mr. Long Ears hopped away. I will, promised the bunny-uncle. Uncle Wiggly hopped along and along and along, looking behind bushes and rocks for an adventure, when all of a sudden he saw a sort of hole down in between two logs. Perhaps there is an adventure down in there for me, said the rabbit gentleman. I'll poke my paw down in and find out. This hole isn't large enough to be the den of the fox or the wolf. Uncle Wiggly thrust one of his four paws down into the hole, and began feeling around between the logs. He touched something soft and fuzzy, and he was just beginning to think that perhaps baby Bunty was hiding down there so he couldn't tag her when, all of a quickness, those logs rolled together. Before Uncle Wiggly could pull out his paw, it was caught fast, and there he was, held just as if he were in a trap. Oh, my goodness, me sakes alive in a basket of soap-bubbles, cried the bunny-rabbit gentleman. I'm caught! How dreadful! I must get out! Well he pulled and he pulled and he pulled, but still his paw was held fast. He scrambled around among the dried leaves, he tried to lift one log off the other with his rheumatism crutch, and he tried to gnaw a hole in the top log that held him fast, but it was all of no use. Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to stay here forever unless I get help, thought Uncle Wiggly, but I must call for aid. Perhaps Grandpa Goosey or Nurse Jane Fuzzy was, he will hear me. Uncle Wiggly stopped his pink nose from twinkling so that he could call more loudly, and then he shouted, Help! Help! Help! For a time there was no answer, only the wind blowing among the leaves of the trees, and then all at once there was a rustling in the bushes, and a voice asked, Who calls for help? I do, answered Uncle Wiggly. Oh, even if you're the woozy, wolf-further Fuzzy fox, please help me. I'm neither the wolf nor the fox, was the answer. I'm only a poor dog who came to this forest to lose himself. I never have been able yet to help anyone. Well, perhaps you can help me, said Uncle Wiggly as cheerfully as he could speak. Come here and see where the logs have fallen on my paw, holding me fast. So the poor dog with his ragged clothes, which made him look almost like a tramp, came through the bushes, close to Uncle Wiggly. My, but you're stylish, said the dog as he saw Uncle Wiggly's tall silk hat. Oh, that isn't anything, sadly said the bunny rabbit gentleman. Tall hats do not make for happiness. I'd rather have on an old ragged cap like yours and be free than wear a diamond and gold crown like a king and be held fast here. Yes, it isn't fun to be caught in a trap, barked the poor dog, but I think I can gnaw through one of those logs and set you free. Then he began to gnaw. He gnawed, and he gnawed, and he gnawed, and in a little while one of the logs was cut in two, just as if it had been sawed, and Uncle Wiggly could pull out his paw. Oh, I can't tell you how thankful I am, said the bunny to the dog. What fine, strong, white teeth you have, how did you get them? Some gnawing bones without any soft meat on them, I guess, answered the dog. Poor dogs must have strong teeth or they would starve. Rich dogs who get soft food can afford to have soft teeth. Well, then I am very glad you are a poor dog, laughed Uncle Wiggly. You are? barked the other in great surprise. Certainly, of course I am, exclaimed the bunny. Just think, suppose you had been one of those rich dogs with soft, crumbly teeth. You would not have been able to gnaw through the log and I would still be held fast. Yes, that's so, agreed the dog wagging his tail. I never thought of that. Then be thankful as I am that you are poor and have strong teeth, went on Mr. Long Ears. You have been of great help to me. Have I? barked the dog. Then I am very glad I never helped anyone. I thought I was too poor. Well, you aren't going to be poor any more, went on the bunny rabbit, gentlemen. Come to the woods and live near my hollow stump bungalow. I have a friend, old dog Percival, who will let you stay in his kennel. He is rich. Oh, that makes me very happy, said the dog who used to be poor. I have always wanted a kennel to live in. Then he went home with the bunny rabbit. And though he never became a very rich dog, still he had a warm kennel, which Percival shared with him. And he always had enough to eat, and he became great friends with Mr. Long Ears and Nurse Jane. So this teaches us that even if a lollipop has a stick, this does not mean it needs a weapon. And if the sunflower doesn't shine so brightly in the eyes of the potato that it can't see to get out of the oven. I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly and the rich cat. End of chapter 21, recording by Lawrence Trask, Mount Vernon, Ohio, interfaceaudio.com. Chapter 22 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lawrence Trask, Mount Vernon, Ohio, interfaceaudio.com. Uncle Wiggly's Storybook by Howard R. Garris. Chapter 22. Uncle Wiggly and the Rich Cat. Once upon a time there was a very rich cat, but with all she had, she was not happy. She owned an automobile and kept a little mouse servant girl to wait on her, and an old gentleman rat did all the heavy work around the house, such as putting out the ashes and cutting the grass. Hi-ho, sighed the rich cat lady one morning after she lapped up some thick heavy cream which was left on her doorstep each day. Hi-ho, I am so tired. Squeak the little mouse servant as she brought a paper napkin for the rich cat to wipe the cream from her whiskers. Even though she was well off, the cat lady had whiskers, and she was very proud of them. I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing, heard the rich cat. Hmm, then why not go for a ride in your auto? Asked the poor little mouse servant girl. I'm tired of that too, spoke the rich cat. It is the same old thing every day. Dress and go out, come back and dress to eat. Dress to go out again. Come back and undress to go to bed and get up in the morning to dress and do it all over again. I'd like to have an adventure. I viewed the cat lady. No mercy, an adventure! Squeak the mouse. Never! Yes, went on the cat, a real exciting adventure. I saw a poor dog the other day, at least he used to be poor, and he is far from rich now, but he looks so well and so lively with such strong white teeth. I heard him telling another dog that he had had a most wonderful adventure in the woods with an old rabbit and a gentleman named Uncle Wiggly. I quite envied that poor dog. Oh, and you so rich! murmured the mousey girl. I don't care, mewed the wealthy cat lady. I'd almost be willing to be poor if I could have an adventure. Come, I'll go for a ride in the auto. It will be better than dawdling around the house. So the cat lady ordered out her auto, with the rat gentleman to drive it, and the little mousey girl to sit beside her on the cushion seat. Where shall I drive to, lady cat? asked the old gentleman rat chauffeur. No, anywhere, to the woods, the fields, anywhere so that I may have an adventure. I don't care, mewed the rich cat. So the rat gentleman drove the auto through the village and out into the forest. At first the roads were very good, but at last they became bumpy, and the cat lady and mousey girl were much shaken up and jiggled about, not to say joggled. Do you want to go on? asked the rat. Oh yes, answered the cat. It shakes up my liver, and I seem to be feeling more hungry. Go on, perhaps I shall find an adventure. The auto lurched and bumped on a little further, and all of the sudden there was a crash. Ooh, screamed the little mousey girl. What is the matter? asked the cat lady, looking through her fancy glasses. We've had an accident. Answered the gentleman, rat. The auto is broken, and I shall have to go for help. Let us go also, squeaked the mousey girl. We don't want to stay here in the woods alone. You may not want to, said the cat with a smile, but I am going to. Run along with Mr. Rat, Miss Mouse, and get help. I'll stay here. So the rich cat lady was left alone, sitting in the auto, one wheel of which was broken. Well, the rat, gentleman, and mousey girl went to look for a garage where they could get help. Perhaps this is the start of an adventure, thought the cat. A moment later she heard a rustling in the bushes, and out popped a strange dog. Now, the rich cat lady knew some rich dogs who wore silver and gold collars, and were friends of hers. She was not afraid of them. But this was a dog without any collar, though he had on a suit of clothes. And when the cat lady looked a second time, she saw that it was a boy dog, and not a grown man dog. Whoa, whoa, barked the boy dog. A strange cat, what are you doing in these woods? Hi, Jackie, held the dog. Come help me chase the strange cat up a tree. All right, P.D., I'm with you, answered a voice, and out of the bushes came another boy dog. The two dogs rushed at the cat lady. Now, she might not have been afraid of one boy dog, but when two of them leap toward her, this was enough to frighten almost any pussy. Don't you think so? Meow, meow, me, cried the cat, and before she knew it, she was climbing a tree. Up she scrabbled her claws, tearing off bits of bark until she was perched on a limb, high above her auto, and the barking dogs down below. My goodness me, sakes alive in a liver cream puff, said the excited rich cat lady to herself, her heart beating like an alarm clock. This is dreadful to think of me, a wealthy cat, being chased up a tree by two poor dogs. What will my friends think? Then she looked down at the dogs and said, run away, if you please, little puppy boys. No, no, they barked, bow, wow. You run and tell him, said one puppy to the other. Tell him there's a strange cat in his woods. I'll stay here at the foot of the tree so she can't get down until you get back with him. I wonder whom they're going to bring back, thought the rich cat up the tree. And she could not help laughing a little, as she thought how strange she must look. The mouse servant and the rat chauffeur will be surprised when they come back and see me here, thought the cat. One little puppy dog boy ran away, while the other remained on guard at the foot of the tree. May I come down? asked the cat lady. No, indeed, growled the dog, although he did not speak impolitely. You must stay up there. Dear me, thought the cat lady, this is quite an unexpected adventure. All of a sudden she saw the puppy at the foot of the tree jump up. At the same time there was a rustling in the bushes, and along came the other puppy with an old gentleman rabbit, who wore a tall silk hat, who had a pair of glasses on his pink twinkling nose, and who walked with a red, white, and blue striped rheumatism crutch. There she is, Uncle Wiggly, barked the puppy dog. We saw her in your woods and chased her up a tree until you could look at her. Maybe she is the woozy wolf or the fuzzy fox dressed up like a cat. Indeed I am not, said the rich pussy lady up the tree. I am the rich Mrs. Cat, and my auto has broken. When my mousy servant girl and the rat gentleman who drives my car return, they will tell you I never harm rabbits. But are you Uncle Wiggly long years? she asked. Oh yes, answered the bunny. I am, and I know you Mrs. Cat. I heard about you from the poor dog. I am very sorry Jackie and P.D. Bowow chased you up a tree. They meant no harm. I'm sure they did not, mewed the cat politely. But they are always on the lookout, so nothing will happen to me, went on Uncle Wiggly. I would get up and help you down, only I can't climb a tree. Oh I can easily get down, said the cat lady, and she did. Though her rich clothes were rather ruffled. But she had plenty of money to buy more, so don't worry about that. Make yourself at home in these woods. The animal folk called them mine, said Uncle Wiggly kindly. I am sorry you had this trouble. Now I must hop away. I hope your auto will soon be mended. Come Jackie and P.D., if you want to help me. Where are you going? asked the rich cat. To help a poor cat family, said Uncle Wiggly. The cat gentleman of the house has been out of work a long time. His wife is ill, and he has a number of little kittens. I was on my way to see the family, when Jackie came to tell me you were up a tree. Well I'm down the tree now, laughed the rich cat lady. And will you please let me help this poor family? I have a lot of money, see? And she showed a purse full of golden leaves, which the animal folk use for money. I can buy them food, and if Mr. Cat wants work, let him take my auto after it is fixed, and use it for a jitney. What? cried Uncle Wiggly. Aren't you going to use that fine car any more? All it needs is a new wheel. Give it to the poor cat, was the answer. I am never going to ride in it again. I feel so much better since I came to the woods and climbed a tree, that I'm going to live here for the rest of my life. I'll buy a hollow stump bungalow near you, Uncle Wiggly. I know now I'm going to be very happy. Well you will make the poor cat family happy at any rate, said Mr. Long Ears. And to make others happy is to be happy yourself, mewed the rich cat lady. She went with Uncle Wiggly, Jackie, and Petey to the home of the poor cat family, and when the worried cat gentleman heard he was to have the auto for a jitney, with which he could make money, he was so glad he almost stood on his head, and his wife and the kitten children were glad also. When the rat gentleman chauffeur and the mousy servant girl came back in another auto to take the rich lady home, she said, I'm going to stay with Uncle Wiggly. From now on I'm going to live in the woods and be happy and poor. Oh, my! squeaked the mousy servant. Yes, fancy. I never heard of such a thing, said the rat gentleman. You had much better come home and live as you did before. But the cat lady would not change her mind, and she built herself a bungalow near Uncle Wiggly's, and lived there happily forever after. So from this we may learn, if we will, that when a pale leaks it is best to have it mended, and if the hand organ monkey doesn't take the squeak out of the rubber ball to make a tin horn for the ragdoll, the next story will be about Uncle Wiggly and the horse. End of Chapter 22. Uncle Wiggly's Storybook by Howard R. Garris Chapter 23 Uncle Wiggly and the Horse Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper for Uncle Wiggly Long Ears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, once baked a cherry pie, of which Mr. Long Ears was very fond. In fact, Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy baked two pies. One she put upon the shelf for Uncle Wiggly's supper. The other pie Nurse Jane wrapped in a clean napkin, put it in a basket, and then she said, Come on, Uncle Wiggly, we'll take this pie to grandfather Goosey Gander. Well, that will be fine, exclaimed Uncle Wiggly. So he set off with Nurse Jane over the fields and through the woods, and perhaps we may have an adventure, said the bunny gentleman, hopeful like. Well, if we do, spoke Nurse Jane, I hope nothing happens to this cherry pie. I baked one for you and the other especially for Grandpa Goosey. I shouldn't like the fuzzy fox, nor yet the woozy wolf, to get this pie. More I, said Uncle Wiggly, and I don't believe Grandpa Goosey would either. The rabbit gentleman and Nurse Jane hopped along together, until after a while Uncle Wiggly saw a horse in a field. Look at that poor horse, said the bunny gentleman, coming to a stop and peeping over the top of his pink twinkling nose. There he stands all day long, with nothing to eat but grass. What else would he eat? asked Nurse Jane, suspiciously. I don't suppose he's ever had a cherry pie, went on Uncle Wiggly, reflective like. Poor horse, never had any cherry pie. Wiggly exclaimed Nurse Jane as she took a firmer hold of the basket handle. If you're thinking of giving Grandpa Goosey's pie to that horse. Well, that's just what I'm thinking of, answered Mr. Long Ears. Here, Nurse Jane, please give me that pie. You may run back home and get the one you were saving for me to give to Grandpa Goosey. I'll call this pie mine, and I'm going to give it to the horse. Well, I never in all my born days exclaimed, fuzzy-wuzzy, heard the like of that. Still, she knew Uncle Wiggly meant to be kind, so she gave the bunny rabbit gentleman the basket with the pie inside, and started back for the hollow stump bungalow to get the other. The bunny rabbit certainly was not selfish, whatever else he was. Hello, horsey! exclaimed Uncle Wiggly as he hopped through the field where the big animal was eating. Hello, answered the horse. Oh, it's Uncle Wiggly! he went on as he stopped cropping the grass and looked up. Did you ever eat a cherry pie? asked the bunny rabbit, beginning to take the cloth off the one in the basket. Cherry pie? I don't believe I ever did, slowly answered the horse. Cherry pie. No, I've never tasted any. Wouldn't you like to? asked the bunny. I should think you would get tired of eating grass all day long. Well, grass is my food, and I like it, made the horse. But I like some oats once in a while, and some bran. Yes, and I think I'd like some cherry pie also. Here, take this one. Nurse Jane can bake more, said generous Uncle Wiggly, and he held out the pie. Oh, my, that's a fine one! we need the horse. That looks most delicious, and it tastes as delicious as it looks, went on the bunny. I know Nurse Jane's pies. Take a bite. The horse did. One bit was all that was needed to enable him to eat the whole pie, for it was only rabbit size, of course, not as large as the pies your mother bakes. Oh, said the horse, as the red cherry juice ran down his lips. That was a good pie. I could eat more. I'm sorry, but that's the only one I have, spoke Uncle Wiggly. Nurse Jane has gone to get mine that she put in the cupboard to give to Grandpa Goosey, but tomorrow I'll have her bake you a large pie. Just then Nurse Jane came along with the other pie in the basket, and Uncle Wiggly said, The horse ate that cherry pie, Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy, and liked it very much. I've told him you'd bake him a larger one. Well, I suppose I can, said the mess-grat lady, looking at Uncle Wiggly in a funny way. I suppose I can. Oh, you are very kind, nade the horse. Only I could do you some favor. But just then, all of a sudden, out from behind a bush jumped the bad old woozy wolf. Aha! howled the wolf. This is a time I have caught Nurse Jane as well as Uncle Wiggly. I shall have four ears to nibble today. And he looked hungrily at the bunny and the musk-grat lady. Do you mean to say you're going to hurt good kind Uncle Wiggly, who has just given me a cherry pie? asked the horse quickly. Of course I am, growled the wolf. He gave me no pie. I'm going to nibble the bunny. Well, I just won't let you, said the horse. Well, how are you going to stop me? asked the wolf. Well, I have big teeth, the horse said. They are not as sharp as yours, for they do not need to be, so that I may crop the grass, but I can bite you with them just the same. It's near the wolf. Two can play at that game. I can bite worse than you. That's how he can, whispered Uncle Wiggly to the horse. Be careful. Well, then I'll kick, said the horse. I'll rear up on my front legs and kick you with my hind legs, Mr. Wolf, if you hurt Uncle Wiggly. But you've no sharp toenails as such as I have, growled the wolf. I'll scratch you with my toenails if you kick me. That's right, he will, whispered Nurse Jane. I'm afraid you cannot save us, sadly, said the bunny gentleman to the kind horse. Yes, I can. Suddenly knaved the horse. This wolf can do some things better than I, but he cannot run as fast. Quick, jump on my back, Uncle Wiggly and Nurse Jane. I'll gallop and trot, I'll gallop and trot, I'll gallop and trot, until I take you far away from this bad animal. Don't you dare take Uncle Wiggly away from me, howled the wolf, for he well knew that he could not run as fast as the horse. The wolf was left far, far behind. Yes, I shall. I'll save Uncle Wiggly. We need the horse. Up on my back, quick, he called to the bunny and Nurse Jane. Up they leaped before the wolf could get them. Then the horse galloped and trotted, galloped and trotted, trotted and galloped and trotted, until the wolf was left far, far behind. And oh, how angry that wolf was, and how he howled. I wish it could have heard him. No one second thought, it's just as well you didn't hear him. It was not very nice howling. There, now you are safe, Uncle Wiggly and Nurse Jane, said the horse, as he stopped galloping and trotting, away over on the far side of the field, far, far from the wolf. Thank you for saving us, spoke the bunny, as he and Nurse Jane slid off the horse's back. I'll bake you the largest cherry pie that ever was, promised the muskrat lady, just as soon as I take this one to Grandpa Goosey. And she made such a large pie that it took the horse forty-eleven bites to eat it. So everything came out all right, you see, and if the postman doesn't try to slip a letter through the slot in the baby's penny bank and make the five cent piece jump over the dollar bill, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly and the cow. Uncle Wiggly's Story Book, by Howard R. Garris, Chapter 24 Uncle Wiggly and the Cow This is a story about Uncle Wiggly and the cow. Not the cow with the crumpled horn, nor yet the one that jumped over the moon when the dish ran away with the spoon. This was a sort of a red cow which ate green grass and gave white milk that was turned into yellow butter to be eaten on brown bread. There's no use in asking me about all those colors, for I don't know. Nobody knows. They're just there, and that's all there is about it. Now for the story. One day, Bunny Rabbit Gentleman was hopping over the fields and threw the woods on his way to the store for Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy. He was going to get his muskrat lady housekeeper a jug of molasses, so Nurse Jane might make a cake. Uncle Wiggly hopped on and on, wondering if he would have an adventure that day. He was thinking how good the molasses cake would taste, when all of a sudden, down in a field, he saw a red cow. Not exactly red like a rose, you understand, or red like a barn, but still somewhat between those colors. A brownish red, I suppose it would be called. Hmm! Hmm! Hmm! Called the cow in such mournful tones that Uncle Wiggly right away said, Something must be the matter. I'm going to go see if I can help that poor cow. Down into the meadow hopped the Bunny Rabbit Gentleman. When he reached the cow, he looked at her, and she looked at him, and the bunny asked, What's the matter, mrs. Cow? Oh! was the sad answer. I've lost the cod I always chew, and now I don't know what to do. I'm so upset I'm sure I'll give sour milk to-night instead of sweet." "'Well, that would be too bad,' Uncle Wiggly remarked. "'This cod of yours may I ask what it is.' "'Well, it isn't come, as many boys and girls suppose, when they see me chewing,' spoke the cowlady. My cod is a bunch of grass, which I crop and pull up by winding my tongue about it, for I haven't two sets of teeth, as have many animals. I only have teeth on my upper jaw. On my lower jaw I have no teeth, but the gums are very hard, so I can chew grass, and that is what makes my cod. I only chew the grass a little bit when I first pull it from the meadow. I swallow it down into my first stomach, and when I have more time I bring the cut of grass up into my mouth, and chew it as long as I please, so it will be good for me to put into my last stomach.' "'Well, well,' exclaimed Uncle Wiggly in surprise. "'So you have two stomachs and only one set of teeth?' "'Yes,' went on the cow. "'But what is worrying me now is to know whether I lost my cut of grass in the meadow after I had chewed on it a while, or whether it slipped down into my last stomach before it was time.' "'What'll happen if it did?' asked Uncle Wiggly. "'I'm afraid I'll have indigestion,' the cowlady answered, and that will make my milk bad and sour. Oh, dear, I wish I knew where my cut was.' "'How did you come to lose it, or miss it?' asked the bunny. "'While I was watching bully and bolly no-tail, the two frog boys hopping down by the brook,' the cowlady said. They were playing leap-toed, you know, or perhaps it was leap-frog, and bully made such a funny jump over bolly's back that I laughed right out loud. I was chewing my cut at the time, and when I stopped laughing I missed it. Now whether I swallowed it, nor whether I dropped it in the brook, I don't know. Isn't that dreadful?' "'Can't you tell by the way you feel? Inside, you know,' asked the bunny. "'What became of your cut?' "'Not for some little time,' answered the cowlady, and that it will be too late. Oh, if only I could find my cut somewhere in this meadow. I know I hadn't swallowed it, and I'd be all right.' "'I know just how you feel,' sunk wiggly. Once when Susie Little-tail, the rabbit, was a tiny baby, her mother gave her a big cake-spoon to play with. She went out of the room, leaving Susie to play with the spoon, and when she came back, it was gone.' "'What was gone?' asked the cowlady. "'Susie, or the spoon?' "'The spoon,' answered the money gentleman, and as Susie was too little to walk and tell where it was, her mother didn't know whether she had hidden, or dropped the spoon somewhere, or whether she had swallowed it.' "'Mmm, just fancy,' moved the cow. How exciting! But what happened?' "'Well, finally,' said Uncle Wiggly, after I had hopped over to help, we found the spoon behind the piano, where Susie had thrown it. Then we knew she hadn't swallowed it.' "'And if I could find my cut, I'd know I hadn't swallowed that,' sadly said the cowlady. "'I'll help you look,' offered Uncle Wiggly. "'I'm a pretty good hopper, and I'll hop around the meadow and look for your cut of half-chewed grass.' The money set down his molasses jug and began looking all over the meadow for the cut, and the cow helped, but she could not move very fast. Besides, she was worried and nervous. "'Here it is! I've found it,' suddenly called Uncle Wiggly, and there on the grass, near the brook where the frog boys had been leaping, was the cowlady's cut. "'Oh, how glad I am to get it back,' she moved as she began to chew it again. "'Now my milk will be nice and sweet. You have done me a great favor, Uncle Wiggly. I hope I may do you the same some day.' "'Pray to not mention it,' said the bunny politely as he hopped on with his molasses jug. "'It was just a little adventure for me.' Uncle Wiggly hopped on to the store, had the jug filled with molasses, and then went to his hollow stump bungalow. "'Well, you were gone a long time,' said Nurse Jane. "'I have been waiting to make the ginger cake.' "'I had to help a cowlady find her lost cut,' said the bunny. "'Oh, Wiggy, what next?' laughed Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy, helping cowlady's. "'That's all right,' the bunny said. "'Perhaps some day a cowlady may help us.' "'I don't see how she can,' spoke Nurse Jane as she started to make the cake, but pretty soon she called to the bunny who had gone to sit outside on a bench and warm his rheumatism in the sun. "'Oh, Wiggy,' exclaimed Nurse Jane, "'I can't get the cork out of the molasses jug. It's in so tight. I can't pull it out, and if I break it and push it inside, then the molasses won't run out. Oh, and a lot of trouble. "'Let me try,' offered the bunny, but he could not get the cork out of the molasses jug either. Not even with his red, white, and blue striped rheumatism crutch. "'I guess I'll have to break the jug,' said the bunny at last. "'Oh, don't do that,' spoke a voice behind him, and turning Uncle Wiggy saw the cowlady. "'I am on my way to be milked,' she moored, and I saw you in trouble, so I came over.' "'What's wrong?' "'We can't get the cork out of the molasses jug,' answered Uncle Wiggy. "'Perhaps I can,' said Mrs. Cow. "'Please let me try.' "'We have a cork screw somewhere,' remarked Nurse Jane, but I can't find it.' "'I shall not need it,' went on the cow. Then with one of her long, sharp horns, she easily pried the cork out of the molasses jug, breaking nothing and making it very easy for Nurse Jane to pour out the sweet stuff for the ginger cake. "'Well, thank you, Mrs. Cow,' said Uncle Wiggy, as the milk-lady animal went on her way. "'Pray don't mention it,' moored the cow. "'Now we are even as far as favors go.' Uncle Wiggy looked at Nurse Jane, and the muskrat lady smiled at the bunny gentleman. "'You were right, Wiggy,' spoke Miss Fuzzy, was he. "'I never thought a cow could help anyone, but this shows how little I know.' "'That's all right,' laughed the bunny. "'Mistakes will happen.' So once again everything came out all right for the bunny gentleman, you see, and if the pussycat doesn't make a popcorn ball out of snow for the puppy dog to play beanbag with, you shall next hear about Uncle Wiggy and the Camping Boys.' Uncle Wiggy and the Camping Boys Uncle Wiggy and the Camping Boys "'Oh, Uncle Wiggy, what you think,' cried baby Bunty one day, as she hopped up to the rabbit gentleman, who was pulling the weeds out of his carrot garden. "'What I think, baby Bunty,' repeated Mr. Long Ears, smiling down one side of his pink twinkling nose. "'Well, I think a lot of things, my little rabbit girl. But if you think I'm going to play tag with you this morning, you are wrong. I haven't time.' "'Oh, I don't want you to play tag,' exclaimed baby Bunty, though she was such a lively little type that she nearly always wanted Uncle Wiggy to play a game of some sort. But there's something over in the woods she went on. What do you think it is?' and she was quite excited. "'Something over in the woods, baby Bunty,' asked Uncle Wiggy, as he looked at one of his carrots to see of the point needed sharpening. But it didn't. I'm glad to say.' "'Well, what's in the woods, baby Bunty, the fox, the skeezix, or the pipsissawa?' "'Neither one, Uncle Wiggly,' answered the little rabbit girl. But there's a lot of those funny animals you call boys, and they're making a snow house, and maybe they'll try to catch you, or me, or Nurse Jane.' And baby Bunty looked quite worried. "'A snow house this time of year.' "'Tuck, tuck,' nonsense, laughed Uncle Wiggly. This is summer and there isn't any snow with which to make houses. Well, these boys in the woods are making a white house anyhow, Uncle Wiggly,' spoke the little rabbit girl, who once had lived in a hollow stump before she came to visit the Bunty gentleman. "'It's a white house, and there's a lot of boys, and they're cutting down wood, and making a fire, and boiling a kettle of water, and oh, they're doing lots of things. I thought I'd better come and tell you.' "'Hmm,' said Uncle Wiggly, straightening up to rest his back, which ached from pulling the weeds out of his garden. "'Yes, perhaps it is a good thing you told me, Baby Bunty. I'll go have a look at the white house the boys are putting up.' Uncle Wiggly and Baby Bunty hopped through the woods, and soon they were near that side of the forest, nearest the village, where real boys and girls lived. Through the green trees gleamed something white, on which the sun shone as brightly as it does at the sea shore. "'There's the house,' said Baby Bunty, pointing with her paw off among the trees. "'Oh, that isn't exactly a house,' Uncle Wiggly told the little rabbit girl. "'That's a white tent, and those boys must be camping there. Boys like to come to the woods to camp in the summer. We'll hop a little closer and listen. Then we can tell what they are doing.' "'We mustn't let them see us,' whispered Baby Bunty. "'Oh, no. Well, no, maybe not first thing,' Uncle Wiggly agreed. But nearly all boys, especially the kind that go camping, are fond of animals and will not hurt them. We will see what sort of boys these are, Baby Bunty.' So the bunny gentleman and the little rabbit girl hid behind the bushes and watched the camping boys, for that is what they were. They had come to spend a few weeks in the woods, living in a white tent, which at first, Baby Bunty thought was a snow house. The boys had just come to camp, and the tent had been up only a little while, but already the lads had started a campfire, and they hung a gypsy kettle over the blaze and were cooking soup. "'Get some more water, somebody,' called one boy. "'And I'm not going to cut any more wood,' explained another. "'I've been cutting wood ever since we got here.' "'We'll take turns,' spoke a third boy. "'Look out, that soup's boiling over,' shouted a fourth. Their regular boys all right, chuckled Uncle Wiggly as he crouched under a bush with Baby Bunty. They're so excited at coming to camp, they hardly know what they're doing. Uncle Wiggly and Baby Bunty could hear and understand what the boys said, though they themselves could not speak to the camping chaps. For a time the two rabbits watched the little lads, who were trying to get a meal. They made many mistakes, of course, such as getting the salt mixed up with the sugar, and they left the bread out of its tin box so it dried, for they had never been camping before. But they'll soon learn, said Uncle Wiggly. I hope they won't chase us and throw stones at us, Baby Bunty remarked, as she and Mr. Long Ears hopped away. I think they are good boys, spoke the bunny gentleman. And the camping boys were. When they had finished eating they scattered crumbs so the birds could pick them up. Larger pieces of leftover food were placed on a flat stump, where the squirrels and chipmunks could get them. Johnny and Billy Bushy Tale, the two boy squirrels, saw some of this food as they were coming through the woods. The camping boys were away just then, so the squirrel chaps had no fear of going close to the white tent house. Johnny found a piece of bread and butter, and Billy picked up half a ginger snack. That shows the camping boys are kind to animals, said Uncle Wiggly, when Johnny and Billy told him what they had found. I hope I may get a chance to do these lads a favor. And Uncle Wiggly had this chance sooner than he expected. For about a week the weather was most lovely for camping. The sun shone every day, the wind blew just enough to send the sailboat spinning about the lake, and there wasn't a drop of rain. It is rain which soaks most of the fun out of camping, just as rain takes away your fun at home, and these boys, never having camped in a tent before, gave no thought to storms. One afternoon it began to rain. Uncle Wiggly, in his hollow stump bungalow, where he was reading the cabbage leaf paper, heard the pitter-patter of the drops on the window and looked up. Where is baby Bunty Nurse Jane? asked the bunny gentleman. Why she hasn't come back from the store yet, answered the muskrat lady housekeeper. Did she take an umbrella? asked Uncle Wiggly. No, replied Nurse Jane. She did not. Then she'll get soaking wet, exclaimed Mr. Long-Ears. I'll go after her with a toadstool. You know, in woodland, near the orange-ice mountain where Uncle Wiggly lived, toadstools were often used for umbrellas. Of course some of the animal folk had regular umbrellas, but when they were in a hurry they could break off a big toadstool or mushroom and use that. So Uncle Wiggly hopped out of his hollow stump bungalow, and, growing near his front gate, he found a big toadstool, picking this he held it over his head, and hurried along through the rain to meet baby Bunty, who had gone to the three and five-cent store for Nurse Jane. Uncle Wiggly had to hop almost to the place where the tent of the camping boy stood before he met the little rabbit girl half drenched. Oh, Uncle Wiggly, you ought to see, cried baby Bunty. There is so much water around the tent that those nice boys will be washed away, I guess. Water around their tent, repeated the bunny gentleman. You don't say so. Yes, said baby Bunty. The rain is coming down so hard that it is running like a little brook around the tent. The boys are inside and I heard them saying that the water would soon come up over the cots, and they wouldn't have any dry place to sleep tonight. Silly boys, explained Uncle Wiggly, holding the toadstool umbrella over baby Bunty. They didn't know enough to dig a ditch around the outside of their tent to let the rainwater run off. All campers do that, but as this is the first time these boys came to the woods, I suppose, they didn't know about it. Always dig a ditch or trench in the earth around your tent, when you go camping, baby Bunty. I will promise the little rabbit girl real serious life. But that isn't going to help the boys now, went on Uncle Wiggly. Think I shall have to take a paw in this. They are good boys and are kind to animals. I must do them a favor. But how can you ask, baby Bunty? Why, I, being a rabbit, and one of the best diggers in the world, went on Mr. Long Years? Still, I will need help to dig a ditch around the tent, as it is rather large. Off home, baby Bunty, and tell Sammy Little-Tale, Toodle and Noodle Flat-Tale, the beaver boys, and Grandpa Wacom, the old beaver gentleman, to please come here. With their help, I can dig the ditch. So baby Bunty, taking the toadstool umbrella, hopped away, and Uncle Wiggly, to await her return, hid under a thick-branched pine-tree, which kept off most of the rain. The drops pelted down and around the tent of the camping boys was almost a flood. Night was coming on, too, and before morning the water would rise up so high that it would wet the feet of the boys in their beds. Pretty soon, just about dusk, when it was still raining hard, along came Sammy Little-Tale, the rabbit boy, Toodle and Noodle, the beavers with their broad, flat tails, and Grandpa Wacom, the oldest beaver of them all. Beavers just love to work in the water, and they can dig dirt canals better than most boys. Lively now, my friends, called Uncle Wiggly, coming out from under the pine-tree, will dig a ditch around the tent for the kind boys. They won't see us as they are inside, and probably will not come out in the rain. So Uncle Wiggly, Sammy, and the beavers began work. Quickly and silently they dug and dug and dug in the soft earth, piling the dirt to one side and making a trench, so that the rain-water could run off into the brook, and soon a little pond that had formed around the tent of the camping boys had drained away. Now they will have no more trouble, said Uncle Wiggly, as he and his friends, all wet and muddy, finished the trench. We can go home. Home they went through the rain to get something to eat and dry out, and in the morning, though it still rained, no water rose inside the boys' tent, and none came through the roof, for that was like an umbrella, the canvas cloth being stretched over the ridgepole. Oh, look, cried one boy, coming to the flap of the tent, as the front of the canvas house is called. Someone has dug a ditch around our camp, and now we'll keep dry. Why, it's a regular little canal, exclaimed the second boy. It wasn't there yesterday. Who did it, asked the other lads? But none of them knew, and I hope you will not tell them, for I want to keep it a secret. And when the rain stopped, the ground around the tent dried out very quickly, because the proper ditch had been dug around it, and the camping boys put out on the flat stump many good things for the animal folk to eat, and the next time those boys went camping, they knew enough to make a trench around their tent. Now let me see, what shall we have next? Well, I think I shall tell you the story of Uncle Wiggly and the birthday cake. That is, I will, if the snow shovel doesn't make the coals scuttle sneeze, when they are playing tag down under the summer steps. End of Chapter 25 Chapter 26 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Nam Dodge Uncle Wiggly's Storybook by Howard R. Garris Uncle Wiggly and the Birthday Cake Tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm going to have a cake with ten candles on. A little girl sang this over and over, and she danced around the house one morning. Ten candles, and they'll be lighted, and I can blow them out and cut the cake and pass it around. Can't I, mother? asked the little girl. Yes, my dear mother answered, but if you are going to have a birthday cake you must go to the store and get me some flour, sugar, and eggs. I did not know I needed them, but I do, if you are to have a cake. Oh, of course I want a cake, said the little girl. It wouldn't be at all like a birthday without a cake. And ten candles on top, all lighted. Last year I only had nine candles, but now I can have ten. Ten candles. Ten candles on my birthday cake. Sang the happy little girl again and again. Ten candles. Ten candles. You had better go to the store instead of singing so much, laughter, mother. Sing on your way, if you like, but don't forget the flour, sugar, and eggs. I'll get them, said the little girl, and off she started, taking a shortcut through the woods, to reach the store more quickly. These woods were the same ones in which Uncle Wiggly had built his hollow stump bungalow, and about the same time the little girl started off to get the things for her birthday cake, the bunny-rabbit gentleman stood on his front porch. Where are you going, asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, his muskrat lady housekeeper? Oh, just to hop through the forest to look for an adventure. Answered Mr. Long Years. I haven't had one since I helped dig the rain trench, about the tent of the camping boys. I should think that would be enough to last a long time, spoke Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy. Oh, no! I need a new adventure every day, laughed the bunny, and over the fields and through the woods he hopped. Now Uncle Wiggly had not gone very far before all of a sudden, he stepped into a trap. It was a spring trap set in the woods by some hunter who had covered it with dried leaves, so it could not easily be seen. That's the way hunters fool the wild animals. And not seeing the trap, Uncle Wiggly hopped right into it. Snap went the jaws of the trap together, catching the poor bunny gentleman fast by one hind leg. Oh, my, cried Mr. Long Years. I'm caught. But it is fortunate that it is a smooth job trap, and not the kind with sharp teeth. If I could only get my leg loose, I'd be all right, except that my paw might be lame and stiff for a few days. I must try to get out. Uncle Wiggly tried to pull his paw from the trap, but it was of no use. The spring held the jaws too tightly together. The bunny gentleman twinkled his pink nose as hard as he could, and he even tried to pry apart the trapped jaws with his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, but he couldn't. Oh, dear thought Uncle Wiggly, I must call for help. Perhaps in netty stub-tail the strong boy bear will hear me. He could easily spring open this trap and set me free. So the bunny gentleman called as loudly as he could. Help! Help! Of course he talked animal talk, and for this reason the little girl, who was going to have a birthday cake, with ten candles on it, did not know what Uncle Wiggly was saying. She heard him making a noise, though, for she passed the place where the bunny was caught in the trap soon after the accident happened. I wonder what that funny noise is, said the little girl, as Uncle Wiggly again called for help. It sounds like some animal. I wish I could understand animal talk. Uncle Wiggly wished with all his heart that the little girl could hear what he was saying, for he was calling for help. The bunny understood girl talk, and he knew what this girl was saying, for she spoke her thoughts out loud. But she doesn't know what I want, said poor Uncle Wiggly to himself. She is sure to be good and kind, as all girls are, and if I could only get her to come over this way she might take me out of the trap. The little girl on her way home from the store had come to a stop, not far from Uncle Wiggly, but she could not see him because he was behind a bush. I must make some kind of a noise that she will hear, thought the bunny, and he thrashed around in the bushes with his crutch, rattling the dried leaves and the green bushes, and the little girl heard this noise. Oh, maybe a bird is caught in a big cobweb, said the little girl. I'll get it loose, I love the birds. Putting down her bundle of flour, sugar, and eggs on a flat stump, she made her way through the bushes, until she saw where Uncle Wiggly was caught in the trap. Oh, what a funny rabbit, cried the little girl as she looked at the bunny gentleman, all dressed, as he always was when he went to look for an adventure. He looks just like a picture on an Easter card, laughed the little girl. I wish I had him at my party. Well, I wish she'd take this trap off my paw, thought Uncle Wiggly, though of course he could say nothing, however much he could hear. Then the little girl looked down among the leaves and saw where the trap pinched Uncle Wiggly. Oh, you poor bunny rabbit, she cried. I'll set you loose. Very gently she pressed her foot on the spring of the trap to open it, and when the jaws were opened Uncle Wiggly could lift out his paw, which he did. He hopped a little way over the dried leaves, limping a bit, for the pinching trap had pained him. Then, coming to a stop on a smooth, grassy place, the bunny leaned on his red, white, and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and, taking off his tall, silk hat, he made a low and polite bow to the little girl. Thank you for having done me a great favor, said Uncle Wiggly, in animal talk. I wish I could do one for you. But, of course, the little girl could not understand this bunny language, so she only laughed and said, Oh, what a dear, funny bunny with a tall hat and everything. I wish you would come to my birthday party. I'm going to have a cake with ten lighted candles on. Thank you, I'd like to come. But it is out of the question, answered Uncle Wiggly, in his own talk. Then, with another low and polite bow, he hopped away. The little girl picked up the things she had bought at the store, and went home. You'll never guess what I saw on the wood, she told her mother. A bunny rabbit, all dressed in a black coat and red trousers, was caught in a trap, and I set him free. Nonsense laughed mother, whoever heard of a rabbit like that. You are so excited about your birthday cake that you were dreaming, I think. Oh, no, mother, I didn't dream, said the little girl. Really, I didn't. Well, never mind. Now we'll make your birthday cake, answered mother. The birthday cake was mixed and baked in the oven, and on top was spread pink frosting. We'll put the candles on tomorrow when you have your party, mother told the little girl. Tomorrow came after a night in which Cora Janet, which was the little girl's name, had dreamed about riding in an airship with a bunny gentleman dressed up like a soldier. In the afternoon many boys and girls came to Cora Janet's birthday party. Oh, how lovely everything is, exclaimed the little boy, when he was given his second dish of ice cream. Wait until you see my birthday cake with ten candles on, whispered Cora Janet. When it was almost time to bring on the lighted cake mother called Cora Janet out into the kitchen. Did you get the candles, Cora, mother asked? Why, no, the little girl answered. I-I thought we had candles. And I thought I told you to get them, mother went on. There isn't one in the house. I've looked everywhere. Never mind. Perhaps I can borrow some next door. Go back to your friends. Oh, I do hope you can get candles, sighed Cora Janet, but birthday cake without candles will hardly be right. Mother asked the lady who lived next door on one side, if she had any candles. Not a one, I'm sorry to say, was the answer. Then mother asked the lady on the other side. Oh, I never use candles, this lady replied, coming out on her back stoop to talk over the fence, to Cora Janet's mother. I'm so sorry. Well, I guess they'll have to eat the cake without any birthday candles on, said mother. Cora Janet will be so disappointed, too, as she is such an imaginative child. Just fancy, Mrs. Blake. She came home yesterday and told about helping out of a trap an old rabbit gentleman with a tall silk hat. The idea she must have dreamed it, said Mrs. Blake. No, she didn't dream it. That really happened, said Uncle Wiggly to himself. It was just then hopping through the fields, back of the house, where Cora Janet lived. So this is her home, is it? Went on the bunny gentleman to himself, and she hasn't any candles for her birthday cake. Too bad. Uncle Wiggly had hopped along just in time to hear Cora Janet's mother asking for candles of the neighbors. It's so late that all the stores are closed, went on Mrs. Blake, for I'd go get some candles for Cora. Never mind, spoke mother, she will have to bear her disappointment as best she can. No, that must not be, said Uncle Wiggly to himself. I cannot give her real candles, but I can leave on her steps some slivers of the pine tree. They have in them pitch, tar, and resin, and will burn almost like candles. When I was a rabbit boy, I often lighted these pine tree candles. Not far away were the woods, and hopping across the field in the dusk of the evening, Uncle Wiggly, with his sharp teeth, soon gnawed off some pine knot splinters from one of the trees. In olden times, when there were no electric or kerosene lamps, children used to study their lessons in front of the fireplace, by these pine knots. These will do for birthday cake candles, whispered Uncle Wiggly, as he hopped back to Cora Janet's house, with a paw full of the pine knots. He put them on the stoop, and then, with his hind paws, he kicked some gravel from the front walk, up against the dining-room windows. What's that, asked Cora Janet, as she heard the noise? Some bad boys playing tic-tac, said one of the girls at the party. They're playing tricks because they weren't asked. I'll see who it is, spoke mother. She went out on the porch. There she saw the pile of pine knot slivers. Having lived in the country when she was a girl, mother knew that these bits of wood could be used for candles. Oh, now I can make the birthday cake blaze most brightly, exclaimed mother, into the house, she hurried. She stuck ten pine knot slivers on the cake, for Uncle Wiggly had left a full dozen, not knowing exactly how old Cora Janet was. Then, when the pine knots were lighted, mother carried the cake into the room where the boys and girls were wishing Cora Janet many happy returns for her birthday. Oh, where did you get the candles, asked Cora? I guess the rabbit you dreamed you saw must have left them, answered mother. In fun, of course. Of course she never thought that really could happen. Dream candles or not they are lovely, murmured the little girl, and everyone at the party said the same thing. They watched Cora Janet as one by one she blew out the pine candles on her birthday cake. And when the last one flickered away, the cake was cut amid the joyous laughter of the boys and girls. Well, I'm glad I could do her a favor, said the bunny rabbit to himself. As hidden under the lilac bush, he heard and saw all that went on. I shall always love Cora Janet. And he did. So, if the needle doesn't wink its eye when it sits on the sewing machine, to read the paper of pins, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly and the New Year's Horn. Recording by Nam Dodge. Uncle Wiggly's Story Book by Howard R. Garris Uncle Wiggly and the New Year's Horn Christmas had come and gone, and the next holiday for the boys and girls who lived in the village outside of Uncle Wiggly's Forest was to be New Year's Day. I call it Uncle Wiggly's Forest, for on one edge of it the bunny rabbit gentleman had built himself a hollow stump bungalow. There he lived with Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, his muskrat lady housekeeper. On the farther side of the wood was the village, where many real boys and girls had their homes. To them, as I say, Christmas had come and gone, bringing to most of them presents which they liked very much. I'm going to have a lot of fun on New Year's, said one boy to another, as they were coasting on the hill the last day of the old year. What are you going to do, asked the other boy? I'm going to blow the old year out and the New Year in, was the answer. Gracious me seeks a live-thought Uncle Wiggly Long Years, the bunny rabbit gentleman, who happened to be resting under a bush, near where the boys were coasting downhill. I hope he doesn't blow the old year so far away, that the New Year will be afraid to come in, said Mr. Long Years to himself. Then he listened again for the boys were talking further. How are you going to blow, one lad wanted to know? With my Christmas horn, was the answer. I got a dandy horn for Christmas. Tonight is New Year's Eve. My father said I could stay up late. At twelve o'clock the old year goes away, and the New Year comes, and we're going to have a party at our house, and I'm going to blow my horn like anything. So am I, said several other boys. Where does the old year go when you blow it away, asked a lad, who had red hair and freckles. Oh, I don't know, answered the boy, who had first talked of his Christmas horn. It just goes, that's all. It disappears, same as the hole in a doughnut when you eat it. You don't eat the hole, declared another boy. Well, you eat all around it, was the answer, and then there isn't any hole any more. It's the same with the old year. After twelve o'clock on December thirty-first, there isn't any old year any more. It's January the first, and it's the New Year. I'm going to blow my horn loud, all the fellows are. We will, too, cried the rest of the boys. But one lad, who had a clumsy homemade sled on the hill, did not say he was going to blow the New Year in. He turned away as the other lads talked of their coming fun. Someone asked him, Are you going to watch the old year out, Jimmy? No, I guess not, was the answer. I'm going to sleep. The noise will wake you up, someone suggested. Well, then I'll go to sleep again, was the answer. I guess the reason Jimmy won't blow the old year out and the New Year in, is because he hasn't any horn. Said a boy with a fine new blue sled. He didn't get hardly anything for Christmas. That's too bad, softly spoke the lad who had first mentioned, about blowing in the New Year. Maybe I can find an old horn at my house and I'll take it to him. If I could find two I take another to his sister, but I don't believe I can. Oh, won't we have fun blowing the New Year in, cried the boys, as they walked to the top of the hill, so they might coast down. But Jimmy did not join in the joyous shout. He was a poor boy, and as the others had said, he had not found much in his stocking at Christmas. Certainly there was no bright tooting horn. This is too bad, thought Uncle Wiggly, as he hopped back to his hollow stump bungalow, after the coasting boys were out of the way, so they would not see him. I wonder how I could get a New Year's horn for that poor boy. The bunny gentleman was wondering about this, but he could not seem to think of any plan, when, as he was about to hop up his bungalow steps, he saw Billy Wagtail, the goat boy. Oh, Uncle Wiggly, bleated Billy, see my new horns! Your new horns, exclaimed Mr. Long Ears, turning toward the goat chap. Are you going to blow the New Year in, also? Yes, but not with these horns went on, Billy. I mean, see the new horns on my head. I was ill, you know, and my old horns dropped off. And now I have these new ones. And he shook his head on which were two long, curving, sharp horns. I'm going to blow the New Year in, bleated the boy goat, but not on my head horns, on my Christmas tin horn. That's more than one boy whom I know about is going to do, said Uncle Wiggly, a little sadly. Then the bunny gentleman had a sudden thought. Do you suppose, Billy, he asked the goat boy, that your old horns could be made into blowing ones for New Years? Why, yes, I guess so, Billy answered, but you'd have to saw off one end to make a place to blow in. My horns are partly hollow, and if you blew in the little end after making a hole there, the noise would come out the other end. Then I know what I can do, exclaimed Uncle Wiggly. Give me your old horns, Billy boy, and I'll fix them up for New Years blowing. I know how to do it. The wagtail goat chap gave the bunny gentleman the old horns. Uncle Wiggly took them into his bungalow, and he and Nurse Jane washed them clean, and polished them. Then with her sharp teeth the muskrat lady gnawed a little off the small end of each horn, so that they could be blown through. Uncle Wiggly made two wooden whistles and fastened one in the small end of each horn. Now I'll try it, Janey, he said to Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy. Uncle Wiggly blew into the small end of one horn. Out of the other end came a sweet tooting sound. Hooray! cried the bunny gentleman. These will be just right for New Years. I'll take one to the poor boy and one to his sister, and they can celebrate with their friends who have regular tin horns. It is very kind of you to be so thoughtful, said Nurse Jane, and it was kind of you to help me make the New Years horns from Billy's old one, spoke Uncle Wiggly, as he skipped along, for it was getting dark and soon the old year would go away, like the hole in the doughnut, and the new year would come, to bring with it fourth of July, birthdays, and Christmas. Up the steps of the house of the poor boy and girl, who had no New Years horns to blow, hopped Uncle Wiggly. No one saw him in the dusk. He placed the horns on the doormat, tapped three times with his red, white, and blue striped, rheumatism crutch on the porch, and then hopped away. What was that, asked the girl of the boy? I'll go see, he answered. The boy opened the door and saw in the light of the moon, which just then came from behind the cloud, the two goat horns made into New Years tutors. Oh, her ray shouted the boy, as he blew on one of the horns. Now we can send the old year on its way and tell the new year how glad we are to see him, her ray, and I can blow too, laughed the girl, her ray. Her brother gave her the other horn, and when twelve o'clock midnight came, the children blew on the tutors as loudly as they could, so did all the other boys and girls in the village, and the animal boys and girls in their nest houses, and burrows also blew on horns, and wooden whistles, to welcome the new year. All over the land the bells rang and horns were blown. Uncle Wiggly heard them in his hollow stunk bungalow, and so did Nurse Jane. Happy New Year, wished the muskrat lady. Happy New Year, echoed the bunny gentleman. The boy and girl, blowing billy wagtails old horns, danced around their father and mother, wishing them a happy New Year also. Where did you get the horns, asked mother? Oh, I guess Santa Claus dropped them on his way back to the North Pole, answered the boy. But we know better than that, don't we? So, after all, everything came out right, and the boy and girl were very happy with their queer New Year's horns. But if the jumping jack doesn't tickle the lollipop with the sharp end of the ice cream cone and make it fall off the stick, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly's Thanksgiving. End of Chapter 27 Chapter 28 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Uncle Wiggly's Storybook by Howard R. Garris Chapter 28 Uncle Wiggly's Thanksgiving There came one afternoon a knock at the door of the hollow stump bungalow where Uncle Wiggly long ears lived. Do you suppose that can be fuzzy fox or the woozy wolf? Anxiously asked Nurse Jane, the muskrat lady, housekeeper. No, answered the bunny gentleman. They would not dare come boldly up to my bungalow in broad daylight, though if it were night, they might come sneaky along, trying to nibble my ears. I suppose this may be Sammy or Susie Little Tale or Johnny or Billy Bushy Tale. I'll let them in. But when Uncle Wiggly opened the door, in came rushing a great big turkey gobbler gentleman. In his bill, he carried a basket in which set a dish filled with something red. I have it, Uncle Wiggly. I have it, exclaimed the turkey. I picked it up and ran away with it. Now they can't have any Thanksgiving. I'll be safe. Shut the door, he gobbled, and setting the basket on the floor, he scuttled behind a chair. Well, Nurse Jane and Uncle Wiggly were so surprised they hardly knew what to do. What in the world have you brought with you, Mr. Gobble-Obble, asked the bunny gentleman. Gobble-Obble was the turkey's name. The cranberry sauce was the answer. At our house where I had been living, they are making a great fuss over Thanksgiving, which will happen in a few days. They had been feeding me up to fat me, and every day the man would come out and look at me. Though I didn't know what for until I heard the children talking about it. Talking about what Nurse Jane wanted to know. Thanksgiving, God told the turkey. This morning I heard the cook say that gobbler is fat enough to roast now. I think I'll make the cranberry sauce. It will be Thanksgiving soon. Then when on the turkey I knew why they had been feeding me things to make me fat. You can't imagine how I felt. Well, the cook made the cranberry sauce. She put it in the dish and set it on the back steps to cool. I watched my chance. Picked it up and ran over here. There's the cranberry sauce, said Mr. Gobble-Obble, pointing to it. And Mr. Gobble-Obble pointed to it with one wing. But why in the world did you bring away the cranberry sauce? What good is that going to do, you asked Uncle Wiggly. Very much puzzled by the turkey's queer talk and actions. Listen, Gobble, the turkey. I heard one of the children say that Thanksgiving wouldn't be Thanksgiving without turkey and cranberry sauce. Then thinks I to myself, if I run away and take the cranberry sauce with me, there will be no Thanksgiving. And many poor turkeys will be glad of it. Laugh, Uncle Wiggly. Chuckling so hard that his pink nose twinkled like a lightning bug on 4th of July. What's the matter, asked Mr. Gobble-Obble? Won't you be good enough to hide me in the cranberry sauce until after Thanksgiving? Then I'll be safe. Of course you may stay here, said the bunny gentleman. But the idea of thinking you can stop Thanksgiving by hiding yourself or the cranberry sauce. Can't I, asked Mr. Gobble-Obble, doubtful like? Of course you can't, exclaimed Mr. Long Ears. Why Thanksgiving doesn't mean just feasting on turkey, ice cream, and cranberries. It does it the house I ran away from, said Mr. Gobble-Obble. Yes, and I suppose it does it many other houses, went on the bunny gentleman. But Thanksgiving is really a time in which to be thankful for the things one has had to eat all the year. For that and other blessings. The pilgrim fathers who came over to live among the Indians were thankful for even a little parched corn. What are Indians, asked the turkey, who had never studied history. Wild men who wore feathers such as yours, said nurse chain. They are Indians. I'll tell you about the Indians some day, promised Uncle Wiggly. Now we must talk more about Thanksgiving. I don't like to talk about it, sighed Mr. Gobble-Obble. It isn't a happy thing for me even to think about, much less talk about. But you shouldn't have run away with the cranberry sauce, went on the bunny gentleman. I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to take it back. All right, I will, promised Mr. Gobble-Obble. But I'll have to go after dark, so the cook won't see me. Then I'll come here again and stay with you and nurse chain. Yes, do, invited the bunny, spent Thanksgiving with us. So when it grew dark, Mr. Gobble-Obble picked up the basket of cranberry sauce in his bill, and went over the fields and through the woods to the village, where lived the real boys and girls in their fathers and mothers. Softly and silently, like the shadow of a feathered Indian, the turkey made its way to the back stoop. There he set down the cranberry sauce and scuttled over to Uncle Wiggly's hollow stump bungalow again. Days and nights came and went, and then it was Thanksgiving. Very lucky am I to live to see this day, Gobble-Obble, the turkey, as he ate breakfast with Uncle Wiggly and nurse Jane. If I hadn't run away with the cranberry sauce, I'd be roasting in the oven now. Well, I'm glad you aren't, spoke the bunny, though, of course it wasn't right for you to take the cranberry sauce. They'll have that for Thanksgiving anyhow, remarked nurse Jane. But now, Wiggly, she went on. If I get the baskets ready, will you start out with them? Yes, Miss Fuzzy was he, answered the bunny gentleman, twinkling his pink nose. What baskets are you speaking of, asked Mr. Gobble-Obble, as he saw the muskrat lady, putting carrot cakes, turnip floppovers, and lettuce sandwiches up in little bundles. These are for the poor folk of animal land, answered Uncle Wiggly. Every year at Thanksgiving nurse Jane puts up a good dinner for them, and I take the baskets around in my automobile. How nice, Gobble the turkey! May I help? I'm so thankful for not being in the oven that I'd like to make someone else thankful too, if I could. That's the idea, cried the bunny. Yes, come along, Mr. Gobble-Obble. Soon the bunny gentleman had filled his automobile with baskets of good things packed by nurse Jane. Over the fields and through the woods, wrote Uncle Wiggly and the turkey gentleman. And many a poor animal family was the happier for Uncle Wiggly's visit. And at last, when the final basket had been left, and Uncle Wiggly and the turkey were on their way back to the bungalow, out from behind a bush jumped the bad old fuzzy fox. I want to nibble Uncle Wiggly's ears for my Thanksgiving dinner, howl the fox. I want ears to nibble. Well, you can't. Not today, laughed Uncle Wiggly, and he made the auto go so fast that the fox was left far, far behind. Oh-ho, Gobble the turkey, as they came with inside of this bungalow, this ride will give us a good appetite for the Thanksgiving dinner. Indeed, it will laugh the bunny. And when they went inside and met nurse Jane, the muskrat lady looked at them in such a queer way that Uncle Wiggly asked, what is the matter, Ms. Fuzz was. He sometimes called her that in fun, as anything happened. Yes, Uncle Wiggly there has, sadly answered the muskrat lady housekeeper. I will not keep it from you. Have they come after me as the turkey in a faint far off voice? Have they? Oh no, said nurse Jane, but by mistake I packed up everything in the house to eat in those Thanksgiving baskets. Uncle Wiggly, I didn't save out a thing for ourselves, and what to do about your Thanksgiving dinner, I don't know. I'm so sorry, tut tut, never mind broken Uncle Wiggly kindly. I dare say we shall find something to nibble on. A couple of carrots will do me. Well, I have those, nurse Jane said, in a little corn. I love corn, Gobble the turkey. I can eat it myself, the muskrat lady declared. So if you can put up with that for Thanksgiving, we'll eat. Then they sat down to the corn and carrots, and Uncle Wiggly said, I'm thankful I could make the auto go so fast that we ran away from the fox. So am I, agreed the Gobbler. And I'm thankful I'm here sitting up to the dining table, instead of being nicely roasted on top of it. And I'm thankful I could help you feed the poor animal families. I'm thankful, spoke nurse Jane, because you two gentlemen didn't scold and make a fuss when you found what a mistake I'd made about the dinner. Ha ha, laughed Uncle Wiggly. Then we were all thankful, and there could not possibly be a better Thanksgiving than this. So they ate the corn and carrots and were very happy. And if the jumping jack doesn't waggle his tail like a skyrocket, knock over the milk bottle so they think their roller skates and slide down the back stoop, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly and the circus. End of chapter 28. Chapter 29 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lawrence Trask, Mount Vernon, Ohio, interfaceaudio.com. Story 29. Uncle Wiggly at the Circus. Jackie Bow Wow, the little puppy dog boy, came running up to Uncle Wiggly one morning, so excited that he barked three times and fell down twice, stubbing his toe over a lollipop stick on the path. Oh, Uncle Wiggly barked Jackie, what do you think? There's pictures of elephants and tigers and lions and camels. There's a man putting up a big tent. There are red wagons and golden chariots and blue wagons and one-the-place bunny tunes. And there's a man with his face all painted red, white, and blue, just like your rheumatism crotch, barked Petey Bow Wow, the other little puppy dog chap, as he ran up wagging his tail. And there's popcorn and peanuts and pink lemonade. What's it all about? asked the bunny rabbit gentleman. As he sat down on the steps of his hollow stump bungalow, well, the puppy dog boys caught their breath, which had nearly run away from them. It's a circus! cried Jackie and Petey, just like twins, which they almost were. A real circus! A circus! exclaimed Uncle Wiggly. That's nice. Do you mean it's the kind that you animal boys sometimes get up where you charge two pins to get in and three pins for a seat? Oh, no, it's a regular man circus that real boys and girls go to see, barked Jackie. It's like the kind we once ran away and joined where we learned to do jumping, to turn somersaults and other tricks, exclaimed Petey. Well, if it's that kind of circus, spoke Uncle Wiggly, we needn't bother our heads about it. We animal folk can't go to any real circus, you know. Oh, but that's what we came to see you for! Why, Jackie, we want you to take us to the circus. Take you to the circus! cried Uncle Wiggly. Why, the very idea! How would an old rabid gentleman and two funny puppy dog boys look walking into a real circus? The men would think we belonged to it and had somehow gotten out of our cages. They'd shut us up behind the iron bars as the lions and tigers are kept. Take you to the circus. Oh, no, it couldn't be thought of. Oh, dear, sigh, Jackie. We told the others that you'd take us. Softly barked Petey. What others? Uncle Wiggly wanted to know, curious like. Oh, Sammy and Susie Little Tail, Johnny and Billy Bushy Tail, Lulu, Alice and Jimmy Wibble Wubble, and a lot of the animal boys and girls went on Petey. We were over on the edge of the woods, looking at the circus men, put up the tent and the colored posters, and we all thought you'd take us. Baby Bunty will be so disappointed, said Jackie. Uncle Wiggly twinkled his pink nose, serious like and thoughtful. Circus murmured the old rabid gentleman. So Baby Bunty wants to go, does she? Well, she never saw a circus, not even to make believe one such as you boys get up. No, I don't care for a circus myself. I've seen too many of them. But I'll go, just to take Baby Bunty. And may we come? asked Jackie eagerly. Oh, well, yes, I suppose so. Slowly answered Mr. Long Ears. Nurse Jane will say I'm queer, but what matter? A circus comes but once a year. Now run along, doggie boys, ought to think up some way of getting all you into the circus tent. For we can't buy tickets and go in the regular way. The circus men wouldn't understand. Jackie and Petey were so delighted that they turned summer salts all the way across the field as they ran to tell the other animal boys and girls. Meanwhile, Uncle Wiggly hopped along on his red, white, and blue twinkling nose. Oh, listen to me, would you? I mean his rheumatism crutch. I guess I'm getting a little bit excited about the circus. Anyhow, Uncle Wiggly hopped across the field to the edge of the forest where Jackie and Petey had said the big show was going to be given that afternoon. Surely enough, there was the large white tent. Much larger than the one the camping boys had used the last time Uncle Wiggly helped dig a rainwater canal for the lads so they would have dry beds to sleep in. There was the circus tent, and there were the red, green, yellow, blue, and purple posters showing pictures of lions, tigers, camels, elephants, and all such wild animals. It's a regular circus, surely enough, said Uncle Wiggly to himself. But how am I going to get in with the animal boys and girls? I can't go up to the wagon and buy tickets, much as I'd like to. I can't speak man-talk, though I can understand it. How can I get in? Just then Uncle Wiggly saw two real boys slowly walking around outside the big tent. They seemed to be looking for something. I hope they haven't lost their ticket money, thought the money. One boy said to the other, Here's a good place to get in. All right, crawl under, exclaimed the other. Then those two boys suddenly crawled under the circus tent, because they had no money to buy tickets. Uncle Wiggly watched them. Why, the idea, exclaimed Mr. Long Ears, what a way to get in. I have it! That's how I can get in with the animal children. I can crawl under the tent. Of course, I wouldn't do it that way if I could buy them tickets and get in the regular way. But I can't. The ticket man wouldn't understand if I hopped up with the green or yellow leaf money. Crawling under the tent is the only way. Uncle Wiggly hopped back to the woods where he had built his hollow stump bungalow. The animal children were gathered about waiting for him. Come on, it's time to start, said Susie Littletail, who had on her best hat made of green ferns. We're going, Wiggy, asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy as she saw the money gentlemen starting off at the head of the procession of animal boys and girls. Oh, I'm just going to take baby Bunty to the circus, said Mr. Long Ears, holding the littlest rabbit girl by her paw. Are you sure you aren't going for yourself? Asked Nurse Jane with a laugh. Of course not, exclaimed Bunny. The idea. On he hopped with the animal children, and when they came near to the edge of the woods, where the circus tent gleamed white amid the green trees, Uncle Wiggly said, Wait here, children, until I hop ahead and see if everything is all right. The Bunny, hiding behind a bush, looked across a little field at the tent. He saw two more boys walk softly up and try to crawl under the white canvas. But all at once a man with a big club rushed up, drove away the boys and cried, No you don't, you can't get in this circus that way. Oh dear, thought Uncle Wiggly. If men are on guard to keep boys from crawling under the tent, they won't let me in with the animal children. What can I do? Baby Bunty will be so disappointed. Ha, I know. I'll start here in this field and dig a burrow or tunnel underground. I'll slant it down until I'm beneath the tent. Then I'll slant it up so when we come out we'll be inside the tent. In that way the men with the clubs will not see us. Uncle Wiggly hopped back to the waiting animal children. I'll have to dig a tunnel burrow to get you into the circus, said the bunny. Stay here and keep quiet. Starting in the field, behind the bushes and a little away from the circus tent, Uncle Wiggly began to dig. He was a fast worker, and soon he had dug the burrow all the way through. He came out inside the circus tent, behind the rows of seats on which were perched many boys, girls and grown folk, watching the funny clowns, listening to the band, seeing the men on the high trapeze bars, and looking at the horses. Ha, ha, the circus is just beginning, said Uncle Wiggly to himself, as the big bass drum boomed out. He crawled back through the burrow and got the animal children in line. Forward march! cried Uncle Wiggly, and through the underground burrow, crawled the rabbits, squirrels, puppy dogs, pussy cats, chickens, ducks, guinea pigs, and all the smaller animal friends of the rabbit gentleman. They were not seen by the men with clubs, because they crawled beneath the tent far below the ground. Then they came up inside the circus, under the high tier of seats. Cried baby Bunty, keeping hold of Uncle Wiggly's paw. Hush! whispered the rabbit gentleman. Don't let the people up above know we're down here or they might chase us out. So there sat Mr. Long Ears and his little friends, having a fine view of the circus almost from start to finish. And the people sitting on the seats above dropped peanuts and kernels of popcorn, which the animal children picked up and ate. The only thing they didn't have was pink lemonade, but perhaps that was not good for them. And at last when the band began to play like anything and the horses and animals raced around the big ring, Uncle Wiggly said, Come now, the circus has ended. We had better get up before the crowd starts or we may be stepped on. Did you like it, baby Bunty? No, it was the most wonderful thing I ever saw. sighed the little rabbit girl. Thank you ever so much. Yes, and we thank you also, Uncle Wiggly, called the other animal children. Then they crawled down through the burrow again outside the tent and came into the woods, through which they scampered to their different homes. But they had been to the circus. And if the window curtain doesn't roll up so fast that it flies to the top of the ceiling, taking the goldfish with it, you shall next hear about Uncle Wiggly and the lion. Chapter 30 Uncle Wiggly and the lion. Once upon a time, as Uncle Wiggly was hopping through the woods, he heard a roaring sound coming, it seems, from a distant clump of trees. Oh ho! claimed the bunny rabbit gentleman. That's thunder. I suppose we are going to have a storm. I didn't bring my umbrella. But I can find a large toadstool, or mushroom, that will do as well. The animal folk often used toadstools for umbrellas, you know, as Uncle Wiggly had done this more than once. The bunny hopped on a little farther, and the roaring, grumbling sound boomed out again. The thunder is coming nearer, thought Mr. Long Years. I had better hurry if I'm going to pick a toadstool umbrella. He limped on his red, white, and blue striped rheumatism crutch, over toward a large mushroom, which, of course, isn't the same as a toadstool, though they look alike. And Uncle Wiggly was just breaking off the stem, so he would not get wet in the thundershower, when all of a sudden a loud voice asked, can you please tell me where the circus went to? Uncle Wiggly turned so quickly that he nearly lost the twinkle from the end of his pink nose, for the voice that spoke was almost as loud as thunder. Was that you making the noise like a storm? asked the bunny, as he saw a large yellow creature with a great head surrounded by a fluffy name, and a tail on the end of which was a bunch of hair. It was, answered the big animal. I'll try to speak more gently if it hurts your ears. But naturally, I have a loud voice. Being a lion, you know. Yes, I knew you were a lion. I remember seeing you in the circus, spoke the bunny gentleman, who was not at all afraid. But tell me, why aren't you with the show now? Because I ran away. The lion answered. I got tired of being shut up in my cage all the while. And when the man left the room door open, I slipped out. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. But it is not as much fun as I thought it would be. Now I wish I could go back to the circus. Can you please tell me where it is? I'm sorry to say I cannot. Uncle Wiggly answered. But if you will come with me to my hollow stump bungalow, not that you can get inside for you are too large, why perhaps Nurse Jane may know where your circus is. She knows nearly everything. Who is Nurse Jane? asked the lion. She is Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, my muskrat lady housekeeper, replied the bunny gentleman. A rat? Is she? went the lion. I don't know much about rats. But once a mouse gnawed the ropes when I was caught in a nut and set me free. That was before I joined the circus. Well, a muskrat is something like a big mouse, said Uncle Wiggly. So I think you will like Nurse Jane. I'm sure I shall. The lion rumbled, trying to make his voice soft and gentle. Well then, went on Uncle Wiggly. Please come along with me and I'll try to find the circus for you. Nurse Jane may know where it moved to, or some of the animal boys and girls may tell us. So Uncle Wiggly hopped through the woods, the lion stalking along beside him. And soon they reached the hollow stump bungalow of the bunny gentleman. Nurse Jane, Nurse Jane, called Mr. Long Years. I have brought home a friend with me. Not to dinner, I hope, Wiggy. Remarked Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy from inside the bungalow. I have a dreadful headache. I haven't been able to wash the breakfast dishes yet. And as for making the beds and dusting the furniture, it is out of the question. So if you want dinner, please tell her not to bother. Whispered the lion. I'm not hungry. And is that thunder? Asked the muskrat lady, thrusting her head, tied up in a wet towel from her bedroom window. And when the muskrat lady saw the big lion, she screamed. Pray, do not be frightened, my dear Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. The lion said. I just came with Uncle Wiggly to inquire where I might find the circus, from which I foolishly ran away. But I'll puddle on and not bother you, since you are ill. Oh, it isn't really any bother. Spoke the muskrat lady, I could get you a cup of tea. It was only your loud voice that startled me. I'm sorry. Rumbled the lion as gently as he could. I'm afraid my voice is rather louder than the purr of a pussycat. But I can't help it. Oh, of course not, agreed Nurse Jane. I wish I could ask you in, but our bungalow is not made for lions. I'll come in and get him something he can eat outside, offered Uncle Wiggly. By that time some of the animal boys or girls who know where the circus went may come along, since you don't know Nurse Jane. No, I'm sorry to say I don't know. Spoke the muskrat lady, as she went back to bed with her headache. Uncle Wiggly took some carrot soup and some lettuce tea out to the lion. But though the tawny creature said he was not hungry, he ate nearly all there was in the bungalow. For his appetite was much larger than that of the muskrat lady or Mr. Longhears. Now I would like to do you and Nurse Jane a favor. Went on the circus chap, licking the soup off his whiskers with his red tongue. Couldn't I help wash the dishes or make the beds? I'm afraid not. Laughed Uncle Wiggly, thinking how funny it would look to see a lion making a rabbit's bed. Yes, I suppose I'm too large to get in the bungalow. Went on the roaring chap. In as gentle a voice as he could make come from his throat. But I know one way in which I can help. How? asked Uncle Wiggly. With my tail. Said the lion. That isn't too large to pass through one of your windows. And on the end of my tail is a tuft of fluffy hair. Just like a dusting brush. Please let me stick my tail in through the different windows. Then I can switch it around and dust the furniture for Nurse Jane. Do you think you can? Asked the bunny, doubtful like. Of course, said the lion. True, I never have dusted furniture in a bunny's hollow stomp of bungalow. But that is no reason for not trying. Please give me a chance. So Uncle Wiggly opened all the windows. The lion backed up and thrust his tail first in one and then in another. When his tail was in the parlor, he switched it around. I mean, he switched his tail around. And the fluffy tuft of hair on the end knocked all the dust off the chairs, table, and piano. Soon the parlor was as nicely dusted as Nurse Jane could have done it herself. In this way, with his tail, the lion dusted all the rooms in the bungalow. Even the one where Nurse Jane was lying down with a headache. And when the muskrat lady saw the lion's fluffy tail switching around on her chairs in such a funny way, she laughed. And then, in a little while, her headache was all better. You certainly are a good houseworker, said the muskrat lady, as she got up and drank a cup of tea. And you have done me a great favor. Pray do not mention it. Spoke the lion politely, as he flapped his tail in the air to rid it of dust. It was a pleasure. Then along came Jacko Kinkytale, the monkey boy. And he said the circus had moved on to a town about ten miles away. Thank you. I'll travel there and get back in my cage. Rumbled the lion. Then, with a polite bow to Nurse Jane and Mr. Longhears, the tawny, yellow chap with a big voice walked away through the forest. And every time the muskrat lady thought of the lion, thrusting his tail in through the window to dust the furniture, she had to laugh. Now, would you like to hear a story about Uncle Wiggly and the Tiger? Well, you may. If the scrubbing brush doesn't take the cake of soap out to the washrags party and forget to bring it back for the bathtub to play ball with. End of Section 30 Chapter 31 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Uncle Wiggly's Storybook by Howard R. Garris Chapter 31 Uncle Wiggly and the Tiger Uncle Wiggly! Oh, Uncle Wiggly! Called a voice, after the rabbit gentleman, as he was hopping away from his hollow stump bungalow one morning. What's the matter now? inquired the bunny, turning around so quickly that his tall silk hat nearly slipped down over his pink twinkling nose. Does the woozy wolf or the fuzzy fox wish to nibble my ears? I hope not! exclaimed Nurse Jane, the muskrat lady housekeeper, for she it was who had called. But will you please take my scissors with you, Uncle Wiggly? Take your scissors, what for? asked Mr. Long Ears. To have them sharpened, answered Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. They are so dull I can hardly cut anything, and I want to cut some linen up into new sheets and pillowcases. Take my scissors along with you, Wiggly dear, and have them made good and sharp. I will, promised the bunny rabbit gentleman. Then, wrapping the dull scissors in a grapevine leaf, Uncle Wiggly put them in the top of his tall silk hat, and set the hat on his head. Why did you put them there? asked Nurse Jane. So I'll remember them, the rabbit gentleman answered. If I put them in my pocket, I'll forget them. But now if I beat Mrs. Twisty Tail, the pig lady, or Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady, and bow to them, I'll take my hat off, out we'll slide the scissors, and then I'll remember that I am to get them sharpened. That's a good idea, said Nurse Jane. Now don't forget to bring them back to me, good and sharp. If you don't, I can't cut up into sheets and pillowcases the new linen I have bought. I'll not forget, promised the bunny gentleman. He hopped on and on through the woods, and he had not gone very far before all of a sudden he heard a growling, rumbling, gumbling noise, a little like far-off thunder. I wonder if that can be the lion again, thought Uncle Wiggly. Perhaps he couldn't find the circus, and has come back to dust more furniture for Nurse Jane with the end of his tail, stuck through a window in the bungalow. Uncle Wiggly looked through the forest, but he saw no tawny lion. Instead, he saw limping toward him, a beast almost as big as the lion, but with a beautiful black and yellow striped coat. Oh-ho! Mr. Tiger, the one I saw when I went to the circus with Baby Bunty, exclaimed Uncle Wiggly. This is a tiger. Yes, I am the striped Tiger, answered the other animal. And oh, what trouble I'm in. What's the matter? kindly asked the rabbit gentleman. For he could see that the tiger was limping and in pain. I ran a thorn in my foot, went on the black and yellow fellow, and my eyes are so poor I can't see to pull it out. Perhaps I can, Uncle Wiggly said. I have strong glasses. So the bunny gentleman looked through his spectacles, and soon saw the thorn that was in the tiger's foot. It did not take Uncle Wiggly long to pull it out. Oh, thank you so much, growled the tiger. Though not in a cross voice. It serves me right, I suppose, for having run away from the circus. Did you run away too, as the lion did? asked Uncle Wiggly. Yes, answered the striped beast. We ran away together, the lion, some other animals, and myself. But now I'd be glad to run back again. The lion was, said Uncle Wiggly. He was very glad to go back. Don't tell me you have met him. exclaimed the tiger. Where is he? He started back yesterday, after stopping at my bungalow and helping nurse Jane dust the furniture with his tail through the windows. The bunny answered. Then I'm going back too, declared the tiger. It isn't as much fun roaming by yourself through the woods as I thought it would be. I'm going back. Before you start, kindly suggested Uncle Wiggly, please come to my bungalow with me. Does more furniture need dusting? asked the tiger, laughing. I have no fluffy tuft on the end of my tail, as has the lion. It's not that, the bunny answered. But I would like to have nurse Jane put some salve on the place where the thorn ran in your paw. And also wrap it up in a rag. That would be very nice, spoke the tiger. Brightly glad will I come with you. So he limped through the forest with the bunny gentleman, and soon they came to the hollow stump bungalow. More company for you nurse Jane, called the jolly rabbit uncle. That's nice, answered Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. Oh, you're a tiger, aren't you? She went on as she saw the striped beast. And he has a sore paw, spoke Uncle Wiggly. Will you put salve on it for him, nurse Jane? Of course, answered the muskrat lady. And when the tiger saw paw was nicely wrapped in a clean rag, he started off through the woods to find the circus. Goodbye. Come again, invited Uncle Wiggly, making a low and polite bow with his tall silk hat. I will, promised the tiger. And then the bunny suddenly exclaimed, oh, you're scissors, nurse Jane. I forgot all about getting them sharpened, as he picked them up from where they had fallen when he took off his hat. Oh, dear, that's too bad, said the muskrat lady. And I wanted to cut the linen strips to make sheets and pillowcases. Now it's too late. I'm afraid the sharpening place will be closed. Perhaps I can help, said the tiger, turning back. Can you sharpen scissors? asked Uncle Wiggly. No, was the answer. But my claws are sharper than any scissors you ever saw. And if you and nurse Jane will hold the cloth, I will cut it into strips for you with my sharp claws. I don't need to use my sore paw. I'll take my other one. Oh, that will be very kind of you, said nurse Jane. I forgot that tigers have sharp claws. So the muskrat lady and the rabbit gentleman held the linen cloth in front of the tiger, and with his claws, he cut and slashed it into just the shapes Miss Fuzzy Wassey needed for making sheets and pillowcases. I'm very glad I could do you this favor. The tiger said when all the linen was cut, so am I, spoke Uncle Wiggly, for if you hadn't been here to use your claws, nurse Jane would not have forgiven me for not remembering to get the scissors sharpened. Goodbye. Goodbye, echoed the tiger as he walked on to find the circus. And that night he slept in his cage again. So if the doorknob doesn't try to crawl through the keyhole, to play beanbag with the rice pudding, in the gas stove oven, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggly and the Elephant. End of Section 31 Chapter 32 of Uncle Wiggly's Storybook This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Uncle Wiggly Storybook by Howard R. Garris Chapter 32 Uncle Wiggly and the Elephant Matches, Uncle Wiggly matches! Cried nurse Jane fuzzy-wuzzy one morning, as the bunny rabbit gentleman was hopping down the forest path away from his hollow stump bungalow. What's that? Patches? exclaimed Mr. Longhears. Did I put on my garden trousers that have patches? And he tried to twist his neck like a corkscrew, so he could look behind him. No, I didn't say patches! laughed nurse Jane. I said matches! Don't forget to bring me some matches to light the fire when you come back from looking for an adventure. Oh, matches! repeated the bunny. I'll get some for you, nurse Jane. Over the fields and through the woods hopped the bunny rabbit gentleman. He looked here, there, and everywhere for an adventure, but could not seem to find one. The woozy wolf nor the fuzzy fox did not chase him to nibble his ears. Not that Uncle Wiggly wanted them to, but if they had, that would have been an adventure. Well, perhaps I shall find one when I come back, said the bunny gentleman, as he hopped along to the seven and eight cents store where he bought a box of matches. Carrying these fire sticks in his paw, Uncle Wiggly was hopping through the forest, on his way back to the hollow stump bungalow when all at once the bunny gentleman felt the ground trembling, and he heard a sound like a big horn being blown, and then a loud voice said, Oh, dear, I can't get it out. Well, what could this be? thought Uncle Wiggly. That horn sounds like the big brass one I heard in the circus. From the way the earth shakes, I'd say a big automobile truck was coming along. And as for someone who can't get something out, well, that sounds like trouble. I'd like to help, but first I must see who it is. Uncle Wiggly looked through the bushes, and at first he thought he saw the side of some big house moving behind the trees. Then he noticed something like a great leaf flapping in the wind, and a moment later something long like a fire hose was thrust forward. Why, it's an elephant, exclaimed the bunny, as he caught sight of the big chap. An elephant is just who I am. Was the answer in a rumbling voice, coming through the rubber hose of a trunk? I'm from the circus, and I wish I may be back there just this minute eating my hay. Oh, so you have run away from the circus also, like the lion and tiger, questioned the bunny. Yes. Answered the elephant. But what do you know of my friends, the lion and tiger? Oh, I have met them, answered Mr. Longgears. But is that your only sorrow, wishing you were back in the circus? Indeed it is not, the elephant answered. I have stepped on a loose stone, and it is fast between the toes of my left hind foot. I can't get it loose by stamping on the ground, and I can't reach so far back with my trunk. I am in great pain and trouble. That is too bad, spoke Uncle Wiggly. I guess your stamping on the ground is what I thought was an auto-truck coming along. Perhaps. Admitted the big circus elephant. I wish I could get that stone out from between my toes. He went on, stamping so hard that he shook the very trees, making them rustle, as though a wind had blown them. Maybe I can help you, said Uncle Wiggly, most kindly. I have with me my red, white, and blue striped rheumatism crutch. With that, I may be able to poke out the stone that hurts you. I'd wish you dry. Beg the elephant. It did not take the bunny gentleman long to loosen the stone from between the elephant's toes. For the foot of an elephant is not like that of a horse or cow. He really has toes and toenails, just as you have. Only a little larger, of course. Well, I should say so. Ah, I feel so much better, Uncle Wiggly. Thank you. Spoke the elephant through his hollow, rubber-hoes-like trunk, and it sounded like a trumpet or brass horn when he talked. Now that the stone is out of my foot, I should go back to the circus. The path to the place where the circus is now showing leads past my bungalow, said the rabbit gentleman. I'll hop along and point out for you the way. I'd like you to meet Nurse Jane. That will give me great pleasure also, remarked the elephant, who was very polite. So he and Uncle Wiggly went along together, but several times the bunny had to say, Please don't go so fast, Mr. Elephant. I can't keep up with you. I beg your pardon, spoke the immense chap. Suppose I lift you on my back and carry you that way. I should much like that, the rabbit uncle said. So in his trunk the elephant gently lifted up Uncle Wiggly and set him down on the broad back. Ah, this is even better than my auto, laughed Uncle Wiggly, as the elephant crashed his way through the forest. Soon they came to the hollow stump bungalow. More company for you, Nurse Jane, called Uncle Wiggly with a laugh. Eh, what's that? Where are you? I don't see anybody but a big elephant, cried the muskrat lady. Looking up. I'm on his back, answered the bunny. And as the elephant lifted Mr. Longhears down in the trunk, Nurse Jane was so surprised that she hardly knew what to say. Will you, ah, have a cup? I mean a wash tub of tea? The muskrat lady asked, well knowing that so big a creature must drink a lot of everything. Some water is all I need, thank you. Answered the elephant. I had something to eat in the forest before I met Uncle Wiggly. Then the big chap put his trunk down in the brook and sucked up a great quantity of water. Uncle Wiggly put the box of matches down on the bench, at the side of the bungalow, where the sun shone bright and hot, and watched the elephant drink. Well, now I'll travel along and go back to the circus. Said the big chap with the large trunk and little tail. I'll tell the lion and tiger I met you. Please do, beg the bunny, and then all of a sudden Nurse Jane cried. Fire, fire, fire! Oh, the sun has set off the book of matches and the bungalow is burning! Fire, fire, fire! Surely enough, this had happened. The box of matches, fizzing and spluttering, was burning Uncle Wiggly's bungalow. Turn in an alarm, get the fireman, call out the water bugs! cried the bunny gentleman. Just a moment. Don't get excited. Spoke the elephant calmly. I'll put out that fire in a second. He sucked up more water from the brook in his trunk and squirted it on the blaze. The fire hissed and spluttered and died out in a puff of smoke. Ah, you have saved my bungalow! cried Uncle Wiggly. Thank you ever so much. Only for you I'd be burned out of house and home. Poo, that wasn't any more than you did for me. Taking the stone out of my foot, said the elephant. With my rubber hose snows of a trunk, I very often put out little fires. Oh, I'm so glad Uncle Wiggly met you! sighed Nurse Jane. If he hadn't, our bungalow would have burned down perhaps, Mr. Elephant. Well, one good turn deserves another. laughed the elephant. As he tramped away through the forest to find the circus, and the bunny gentleman and nurse Jane waved goodbye to the big chap. So if the wheelbarrow doesn't catch cold when it runs after the train of cars to get a ride around the block, the next adventure will be about Uncle Wiggly in the camel.