Chapter 3

One day, when Buddy and Brighteyes Pigg were playing out in front of their pen, Buddy suddenly exclaimed:

"Why, just think of it! Day after to-morrow is Fourth of July, Brighteyes. Won't we have lots of fun?"

"What will we do?" asked his sister.

"Oh, shoot off firecrackers and torpedoes, and make lots of noise, and at night we'll send up Roman candles and skyrockets; and oh! it will be better than a circus."

"Oh, you boys!" exclaimed Brighteyes. "You always want to make a racket and have excitement. It's horrid, I think."

"Oh, I s'pose you'll play with your dolls, or something like that," said Buddy, laughing at his sister, who was very serious.

"Yes, that's what I'm going to do," replied Brighteyes. "I'm going to play with Sister Sallie, and Alice and Lulu Wibblewobble, and Jennie Chipmunk, and we're going for a picnic in the woods."

"Look out that a big fox or a bad dog doesn't get you," said Buddy. "Well, I'm going off to find Sammie and Billie and Johnnie and Jimmie and Peetie and Jackie Bow Wow, and Bully and Bawly Frog, and we'll have a fine time on the Fourth."

"Where are you going to get your firecrackers and things?" asked Brighteyes.

"You'll see," answered Buddy, as he ran off.

Well, Fourth of July came at last, just as it always does, and early in the morning Buddy Pigg awoke.

"Where are you going?" called his papa.

"Out to shoot off some firecrackers," answered Buddy.

"Be careful you don't get burned," cautioned his mother. "Oh dear! I don't like the Fourth of July. If you do get burned. Buddy, run right in and let papa attend to you."

"I can't get burned with the kind of firecrackers and torpedoes I'm going to use," answered the little boy guinea pig, and he laughed as he ran out.

Well, pretty soon, along came all his friends, Billie and Johnnie and Sammie, and all the rest. They were so excited that Bawly, the frog, didn't think to sing a song, or recite any poetry.

"What shall we do first?" asked Buddy.

"Let's play war," suggested Sammie. "We'll divide up into two armies, and have a battle. It will be great!"

So they divided into two sides, and Buddy was the general on one side, and Billie Bushytail on the other. Then the fight began--not real, you understand--but make-believe.

First the loud cannons shot off; and what do you suppose the cannons were? Why big stones, that the squirrels and rabbits and the other animal boys held and clapped together as loud as anything. You know stones can make a terrible racket when they are hit together real hard. Well, it sounded like regular cannon, and the birds in the wood got awfully scared.

"Now fire your guns!" cried General Buddy Pigg, and his soldiers took sticks, and snapped them in two pieces and broke them, until they sounded like real guns, or a lot of firecrackers going off.

Oh, it was fine, and the best of it was nobody could get hurt, or burned, either.

"Now shoot them with your torpedoes!" cried General Billie Bushytail, and all at once his side began firing off torpedoes at a great rate; until you would have thought the woods were on fire. And you would never guess what the torpedoes were, so I'll tell you. They were big, rose petals, blown up with air until they were like little pink and red balloons, and tied around with a string, just as you tie a paper bag around the neck, after you've blown it up, to burst it, and when those rose-torpedoes were cracked down on a flat stone--my! you should have heard the noise!

Well, lots of them were fired off, and then Buddy Pigg got some empty bags, and his soldiers blew them up, and they cracked 'em down, and they went off "Boom! Boom!" like great, big cannons. They blew dust up in the air, to pretend it was smoke, and there was the most terrible make-believe battle you ever heard of. But nobody was hurt, and they had lots of fun, and the best of it was that neither side won, which made everybody happy.

"Now we'll take a rest," said Buddy Pigg. "I wonder what Brighteyes and the others are doing?"

"Let's go see," proposed Billie Bushytail.

So they all marched off through the woods, just like real soldiers, and pretty soon they came to the place where Brighteyes and Sister Sallie and all the girls were having a picnic.

"You're just in time," called Brighteyes.

"Come and have some lunch, and some lemonade. You must be tired after all that fighting." Now wasn't she kind, even after Buddy had laughed at the idea of a picnic being better than a battle? Well, I just guess! Those soldiers were glad enough to eat the lunch, and drink the lemonade, I can tell you.

So the soldiers and the girls sat there in the woods under the trees and had a fine time--almost as good as at the make-believe battle, I think--and after a while, just as Buddy and his chums were getting ready to go back and shoot some more stick-firecrackers and roseleaf torpedoes, what should happen but that bad fox and that mean, old, yellow, shaggy dog ran right out of the woods.

"Let's eat everything up!" cried the fox, waving his big tail.

"Yes, and then we'll eat the squirrels and rabbits and guinea pigs all up!" cried the dog, gnashing his teeth and blinking his eyes as bold as bold could be.

At first even the soldiers were so frightened that they hardly knew what to do, and they were about to run away, when Buddy called out:

"Come on! Let's get our guns and our cannon and shoot them!"

Then he grabbed up some stick-firecrackers and began to break and snap them, and Sammie shot off some roseleaf torpedoes and Billie and Johnnie clapped stones together, and Jimmie and Bully and Bawly threw dust in the air until it looked like smoke, and there was a terrible racket, until--well, sir, if that dog and that fox weren't so frightened that they ran away and didn't even get so much as a crumb of cracker or a drop of lemonade; and it served them right, I think.

Then how thankful the girls were to the brave soldiers. Oh, everything turned out just right, I'm glad to say. That afternoon Buddy and his chums had more Fourth of July fun, and Brighteyes and her friends played with their dolls.

Then at night Buddy and the boys sent up skyrockets and Roman candles (which were sticks covered with lightning bugs), and prettier ones you never saw. And they even had a lightning-bug pinwheel. Oh, it was the nicest Fourth of July that ever was! I hope you children have as nice a one and that none of you get burned or hurt when you celebrate Independence Day. And, if none of you do, why, in the next story I'll tell you about Buddy Pigg trying to buy a tail for himself, because he didn't have any. That is, I will if the lollypop doesn't fall down stairs and break his stick.

STORY IX

BUDDY PIG WANTS A TAIL

The day after the Fourth of July, when he and his sister had had such fun, Buddy Pigg came into the pen, where his mamma was baking tea biscuits for supper, and sat down in a chair by the table where she was working.

He didn't say anything, but just watched his mamma rolling out the crust, or whatever it is they make tea biscuits of, and pretty soon Mrs. Pigg noticed that Buddy didn't seem very happy. His face was all twisted up into a funny sort of a scowl, and every once in a while he would give a long sigh, as though he hadn't a friend in all the world.

"Why, Buddy," Mrs. Pigg asked, when the tea biscuits were ready for the oven, "whatever in the wide, wide world is the matter? Are you sick, or did you burn yourself with a firecracker?"

"No, mother," Buddy answered, "I'm not sick and I didn't burn myself with a firecracker, but I wish--I wish--" and then he stopped, and sort of wiggled his nose.

"Well," asked his mother with a smile, "what do you wish? Remember, though, that I am not a fairy and can't give you anything you want."

"Oh," answered the little boy guinea pig, "this is very easy, mamma. All I want is a tail."

"A tail?" exclaimed his mamma in great surprise, and she wondered if, after all, Buddy wasn't ill, for that was a very strange request. And she began to wish that his papa was home, or that Brighteyes, who was Buddy's sister, was in the house, to help look after him, but Brighteyes had gone to see her aunt, and wouldn't be back till night.

"Yes," went on Buddy, "I want a tail. All the other boys and girls who are friends of mine have them, and I don't see why I can't."

For you see guinea pigs never have tails. Why that is I don't know, except, maybe, it's better that way in hot weather, but, anyhow, they have no tails.

"You don't need a tail," said Buddy's mamma.

"Yes, I do, mother dear," he answered. "Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow have tails, and so have Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, and the three Wibblewobbles, and--"

"But Bully and Bawly, the frogs, have no tail," said Mrs. Pigg, "and they are happy, Buddy."

"Well, they are in the water so much it doesn't show whether they have a tail or not," went on Buddy.

"And Sammie and Susie Littletail haven't much of a tail, Buddy," said Mrs. Pigg, as she looked in the oven to see if the biscuits were burning.

"I know it, mother, but they have something of a tail," spoke Buddy, "and maybe it will grow longer in time. I'd be glad if I had even as much as Sammie has."

"Well," said Mrs. Pigg, "I'm sorry, Buddy, but I don't see how you are ever going to get a tail. I haven't any, your father hasn't any, and we get along very well. None of your relations have tails and they are happy. They never had any. In fact there has never been a tail in our family and I don't see why you want to start. Now run out and play, like a good boy, and when Brighteyes comes back it will be supper time, and we'll have hot biscuits and honey."

But, though Buddy ran out, he was not happy. There was a frown on his face, and, as he walked through the woods, he kept thinking how nice it would be to have a tail.

Pretty soon, oh, I guess in about a whisper and a squeak, Buddy Pigg heard a rustling in the tree over his head. Then he saw two big, yellow eyes peering down at him from the darkness of the woods, and a voice called out:

"What's the matter, little boy? Why are you so sad?"

"Oh, I feel bad because I haven't a tail," answered Buddy, wondering who was speaking.

"What's the matter? Did some one cut your tail off?" the voice asked.

"No," replied Buddy, "I never had one; but I want one, awfully bad."

"Oh, don't worry about a little thing like that," went on the voice. "I can get a fine tail for you."

"Oh, can you?" cried Buddy, his face lighting up, "are you a fairy?"

"Well, not exactly," was the answer, "but you just run along after me, and I'll get a tail for you, in less than no time."

Then there was a rustling in the branches, and a great, big owl, with ears that looked like horns, flew out, and Buddy was frightened. But the owl said:

"Oh, don't be alarmed, little boy. Just follow me, and I'll see that you get a tail."

So the owl flew along through the dark, dismal woods, going slowly, and close to the ground so Buddy could follow, and pretty soon, the owl stopped in front of a hole in the side of a hill.

"There is where the tail is," said the owl. "Just wait and I'll have it out to you in a jiffy and a half," and bless me, if that owl didn't go in that hole. He stayed there some time, and Buddy could hear voices inside, talking, and land sakes, goodness me alive, and a cherry pie! out of that hole was thrust a great, big, bushy tail. A tail, and nothing else, believe me, if you please.

"Oh, what a fine tail!" cried Buddy in delight.

"Do you think so?" asked a voice. "Then just grab hold of it, hold tight, and it's yours!"

Well, Buddy didn't think there was any danger, so he grabbed hold of the tail, and held on tight, but oh, dear me! instead of pulling the tail out, he found himself being pulled in. Yes, sir, right into that hole, and land knows what would have happened if Buddy's sister, Brighteyes, hadn't come along just then on her way home from her aunt's house. She saw right away that the bushy tail was fast to something inside the hole.

"That's a fox's tail!" she cried, "and he's pulling you into his den! Let go, quickly! Let go, Buddy!"

So Buddy let go just in time, though the fox and the owl rushed out and tried to grab him, but they fell down, and couldn't get up in time, and he and his sister ran home. You see it was just a trick of that owl and fox, to get Buddy into the den, and eat him up, but they didn't, I'm glad to say. And after that Buddy never wanted a tail. Now if it doesn't rain in the dishpan and turn the umbrella inside out, I'll tell you in the next story about Buddy walking a tight rope.

STORY X

BUDDY WALKS A TIGHT ROPE

One day after Buddy Pigg had been on a visit to Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the two puppy dogs, who were once in a circus, he came home all excited. He ran out in the yard, began pawing over in the woodpile, and soon he ran into the house, where Brighteyes, his sister, was washing the potatoes for dinner.

"Do you know where there is any wire, Brighteyes?" the little boy guinea pig asked.

"Wire? No, I haven't seen any around the house. What do you want of it? Are you going to wire a tail on to yourself?" and Buddy's sister smiled just the least bit.

"Please don't remind me of that," said Buddy, for he felt a little ashamed of the time he had tried to get a tail for himself and had been nearly dragged into a fox's den, as I told you in the story before this one. "No, Brighteyes, I'm not going to make a tail. I am going to do a circus trick, and you can see me if you want to," he said.

"Oh, Buddy! are you really?" she cried, and she was interested all of a sudden, you see, for she had never seen much of a circus.

"Yes, I'll do the trick, if I can find a bit of wire," went on Buddy. "Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow told me how to do it; and I'm sure I can. It's walking a tight rope, and it's very hard to do."

"Oh! then you want rope, not wire," went on Brighteyes, as she put the pan of potatoes on the table.

"Wire is what the circus performers use," insisted her brother, "but if you can't find any I suppose rope will do."

"I saw some up in the attic," said Brighteyes. "I'll get it for you. But, Buddy, isn't it dangerous? Do you s'pose mamma and papa would let you do it?"

"There's not much danger," answered Buddy. "I'll not put the rope up very high, and I'll put some pillows on the ground underneath, so that if I fall I won't get hurt much."

Well, Brighteyes found a long rope, and she helped Buddy tie it from one clothes post to the other, across the yard, so that it looked like a real tight rope in a circus.

"Oh, you can never get on that!" she cried to her brother, as she saw how high up it was.

"Yes, I can," he replied. "You just watch me. But first I must put some pillows underneath, in case I fall."

So he ran into the house and got a lot of feather pillows and put them on the ground under the rope, Brighteyes helping him.

Then Buddy got some old soap boxes, piled them one on top of the other, and, by climbing up on them, he was able to step to the rope.

"Oh, how thin and slender and shaky it is!" cried Brighteyes. "You never can walk across that, Buddy!"

"Yes, I think I can," he answered. "But I must get a pole to balance myself with," so he got off the boxes and ran to the woodpile, got a piece of an old broom handle, and ran back to the rope again. He stepped one foot out on it, to try it, and it seemed quite strong, though it wabbled a bit from side to side, like a duck's tail.

"Oh! are you really going to walk on it?" cried Brighteyes in delight.

"I really am," answered her brother.

"Then you ought to have an audience to applaud you and clap when you do it," she went on. "Wait, and I'll run and get Johnnie and Billie Bushytail and Sammie and Susie Littletail, and--"

"No, don't!" cried Buddy, quickly. "Better wait until I walk across a few times, first, so as to sort of practise. Then I'll do the trick before folks."

So he got up on the rope, standing up on his hind legs, and balancing the pole with his front paws and he steadied himself for a moment and then took a step. My! but that rope wiggled, though, from side to side, almost like a hammock, only, of course, not as safe as a hammock. But Buddy kept bravely on, and took another step--and land sakes laddy-da! if that rope didn't wiggle more than ever.

"Oh, take care! You'll fall!" cried Brighteyes, and she screamed.

"Oh, Brighteyes, don't do that, please!" begged Buddy. "You make me nervous, and then I can't walk the tight rope."

So Brighteyes, whose real name was Matilda, you know, kept real still and quiet, just like a little mouse when it wants a bit of cheese, and Buddy took another step out on the tight rope.

He held his balancing pole by the middle, and he went slowly and cautiously, and he was actually walking that slender rope!

But he kept looking down and wondering whether he would fall or not, and he got to thinking about the feather pillows, and wondering if they were thick enough and soft enough, so that he wouldn't get hurt if he should fall, when all at once, quicker than you can wheel the baby carriage down hill, when he was right in the middle, Buddy's foot slipped, and down he went, right a straddle across the tight rope, and the pole fell with a bang!

And Brighteyes screamed, for she couldn't help it, but Buddy didn't dare call out. No, all he could do was to cling there with his teeth and his paws to that swaying rope.

"Oh!" cried Brighteyes, "you're going to fall, Buddy!"

"I've fallen already," he panted. "But I'm going to land on the ground in a minute, for I can't hold on any longer!"

And he looked down, picking out a soft spot to fall on, but, oh, dear me, and a sour pickle! If the pole, when it fell down, hadn't knocked the pillows to one side, and there was only hard ground for Buddy to land on. Well, maybe he wasn't frightened, and Brighteyes was also frightened, too flabbergasted, you see, to go and fix the pillows in place again, and they didn't either of them know what in the world to do.

I don't know what might have happened, for Buddy couldn't hold on much longer, but, just as he was going to let go, along came Uncle Wiggily Longears. He saw what the trouble was at once, and up he rushed and with his crutch he piled the pillows in a soft heap right under Buddy, and then Buddy let go the tight rope and down he came, just like in a feather bed.

And he wasn't hurt the least mite, but he was very thankful to Uncle Wiggily, the old rabbit gentleman, and Buddy never tried to walk a tight rope, nor a loose one again.

Now, in case there is no salt in the ice cream to make the rag doll sneeze, I'll tell you in the following story about Brighteyes Pigg in a tin can.

STORY XI

BRIGHTEYES IN A TIN CAN

Of course, when Mamma Pigg came home the afternoon that Buddy tried to walk a tight rope (for she had been away visiting Mrs. Wibblewobble when it happened) she had to hear about it. Buddy and Brighteyes would have told her, anyhow, for they always did, but, as it was, Mrs. Pigg saw a scratch on Buddy's leg, where the rope had hurt him when he fell, and she wanted to know all about it. Then Buddy told her of the trick he had tried to perform.

"Little guinea pigs are safer on the ground," she said. "Leave such things to Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, or the Bow Wows, who were once in a circus. Now get washed for supper, for your papa will soon be here, and I think he'll fetch a quart of carrot ice cream, as it is so hot."

And sure enough, Dr. Pigg did, and the carrot ice cream was the best Brighteyes and Buddy had ever tasted, they thought.

Well, it was about two days after this that Brighteyes Pigg was sent to the store for her mother, to get a nutmeg, a yeast cake, and a bottle of blueing. Brighteyes started off, hurrying through the woods, where once the owl had tried to get Buddy into the den of the old fox, and soon the little guinea pig girl was at the grocery.

She got the things, and the storekeeper put them in a paper bag for her, and back she started.

It was so warm that, after Brighteyes had reached a cool place in the woods, near where a little brook ran over the stones, making a gurgling noise, very pleasant to hear, she sat down to rest. And she hadn't been sitting there more than about ten long breaths, when she saw, beside the stream, a tin can.

"Now I wonder what is in that can?" thought Brighteyes. "I'm going to see. Perhaps it's something good to eat, and I can take some home to Buddy," for she was very kind to her brother, you understand.

So she went up to the can, but wasn't she disappointed when she saw that it was empty! The open end was on the side that was turned away from her, and that's why at first she thought it was full. But she smelled of the opening, and oh, what a delicious perfume there was, sweet and sugary, and in a minute Brighteyes knew what it was.

"There has been molasses in that can!" she exclaimed. "Oh, if there's anything I dearly love it's molasses! I wonder if there is any left inside? Sometimes people don't quite empty the cans before they throw them away. I'm going to look."

So Brighteyes went closer, and, would you believe me? if she didn't see, away down in the lower edge of that can, as it rested on its side, a lot of nice molasses.

"Oh, I must have that!" cried Brighteyes, and, without thinking of what she was doing, she put her head and her forepaws inside that can. She found she could reach the molasses with her tongue, and she began to lick it up, wishing she had some way of taking part of it to Buddy.

She was so excited over it that she even had taken her things from the grocery store inside the can with her. There she was, with only part of her body and her hind legs sticking out, and she was eating the molasses as fast as she could.

It kept tasting better and better, but, after a while, Brighteyes thought she had enough, and she started to pull her head out of the can. But, oh dear me! She found she couldn't do it. The sharp edges of the tin caught in her fur, and there she was, stuck fast with the can over her head, and the nutmeg, the bottle of blueing and the yeast cake in there with her.

"Oh, dear me suz-dud!" she cried. "I'm fast!"

She tried to shake the can off, but it wouldn't shake. Then she tried to pull herself out, but the can was still on her head, and went everywhere she went, like Mary's little lamb. Then poor Brighteyes tried to stand up on her hind legs, and hit the can against a tree or a stone, thinking she could knock it off, but it wouldn't come off, and then she turned a somersault, thinking that would help, but, though she even stood on her head in the can, and wiggled her hind legs, it did no good.

"Oh, I'm caught fast!" cried the poor little creature, and she rolled around and around on the ground, thinking that would help some, but it didn't.

Then she heard some one coming along through the woods, and she called out: "Who's there? Please help me out of this can!"

"I'm Johnnie Bushytail," answered a voice. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brighteyes Pigg," she said. "Please help me."

But her voice sounded so queer and hollow, shut up as it was in the can, and the nutmeg rattled around so, like thunder, that Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel, was frightened, and ran away, without helping Brighteyes. Then she felt like crying, but, in a little while she heard some one else coming along through the woods, and she called: "Oh, please help me! Who is there?"

"I'm Sammie Littletail," was the answer. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brighteyes Pigg," she replied. "Help me, please!"

But her voice sounded so strange and hollow in the can, and just then the yeast cake came bouncing out, where there was a little space near Brighteyes' neck and the tinfoil was all shining so that Sammie thought some one was shooting square, silver bullets at him, and away he ran.