Part 1

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LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND CHIPPY CHIPMUNK

by

DAVID CORY

Author of Little Jack Rabbit's Adventures, Little Jack Rabbit and Danny Fox, Little Jack Rabbit and the Squirrel Brothers, Little Jack Rabbit and the Big Brown Bear.

_LITTLE JACK RABBIT BOOKS_ (Trademark Registered)

Illustrated by H. S. Barbour

New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers

Made in the United States of America

Copyright, 1921, by Grosset & Dunlap

CONTENTS

LOLLYPOP SYRUP

DR. HERON

THE SONG OF PROMISE

SPRING IS HERE

LITTLE MESSENGER BOY BUNNY

GRANDDADDY BULLFROG

RAT-A-TAT-TAT

BUSY PEOPLE

MOTHER NATURE

THE WHISTLING STOVE

MESSENGER BOYS

A RUDE INTERRUPTION

PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE

DR. QUACK

BY THE BUBBLING BROOK

HAPPY DAYS

THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD

THE YELLOW DOG TRAMP

PRICKLY THORNS

BAGS OF PEANUTS

THE MUSICAL ALARM CLOCK

MORE ADVENTURES

AT THE FARM

DANNY FOX

CHIPPY CHIPMUNK'S STORE

NAUGHTY FEATHERHEAD

LITTLE JACK RABBIT'S STORE

BILLY BREEZE

PITTER, PATTER

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHIPPY CHIPMUNK SHOWS LITTLE JACK RABBIT HIS STOCK OF NUTS.

LITTLE JACK ATE SO MANY CAKES THAT HE COULD NOT BUTTON HIS JACKET.

PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE GOT READY TO TAKE THE PICTURE.

LITTLE JACK AND CHIPPY CHIPMUNK MEET TEDDY TURTLE.

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND CHIPPY CHIPMUNK

LOLLYPOP SYRUP

One day as Little Jack Rabbit was hopping home to the Old Bramble Patch, he came across something sweet. And what do you suppose it was? Why, a big tin pail half full of lollypop juice, standing under a little spout that was driven into a yellow lollypop tree.

"My, but it tastes good," he said, holding his mouth under the spout to let the sap drip onto his little red tongue. "I wish I had some buckwheat cakes with me."

But he didn't, so he took a little glass bottle out of his knapsack and filled it with the sweet juice.

But, oh dear me! Just then he heard a deep growl.

"Oh dear and oh dear!" cried Little Jack Rabbit, giving a hop to one side to hide behind an old stump.

And then the deep growling voice said again, quick as a wink:

"Who's stealing my lollypop sap?"

"Nobody," answered the little rabbit, peeking out from behind the old stump. And then, would you believe it, he hopped out all the way, for there stood the Big Brown Bear.

"I'll excuse you this time," said that friendly old bear with a grin. "Come into my cave and see all the lollypops I've made from the sap of the lollypop tree."

Well, there certainly were lots and lots of little lollypops piled on the shelves.

"Do you make buckwheat cakes?" asked the little rabbit.

"Every morning," answered the Big Brown Bear, "and I just drown 'em in lollypop syrup!"

The little rabbit smacked his lips.

"If you'll spend the night, I'll give you buckwheat cakes for breakfast," said the Big Brown Bear.

And Little Jack Rabbit did, and ate so many cakes the next morning that he couldn't button up his jacket until the afternoon, when he set out once more for the Old Bramble Patch.

Well, as he was hopping along, all of a sudden, just like that, he heard some one singing:

"Little Jack Rabbit goes clippity, clop; Little Bill Bunny goes lippity, lop; Little Chip Chipmunk goes jumpity, jump, Over the hollow, moss-covered stump."

"Why, hello, Chippy Chipmunk!" cried Little Jack Rabbit, sitting up on his hind legs. "What are you doing out here? Is it time for you to come out of your nice warm burrow?"

"I guess so," answered the little chipmunk. "Old Mr. Groundhog says so, and he ought to know."

"Come over," said the little rabbit, taking the bottle of syrup out of his pocket. "Do you want to taste something you'd suppose was lollypop juice? Open your mouth and shut your eyes and I'll give you the sweetest kind of surprise."

But, oh dear me. Little Jack Rabbit dropped the cork by mistake in the little chipmunk's mouth!

(Did you ever try to get a cork out of a bottle after it had slipped 'way down inside? Well, then, just think what a time we'll have with this little chipmunk.)

DR. HERON

"What was that?" asked the little chipmunk as he swallowed the cork. But, goodness me, Little Jack Rabbit was too frightened to answer. He let the glass bottle drop to the ground, smashing it all to smithereens.

"The maple syrup was fine," went on Chippy Chipmunk, "but what was that hard little lump I swallowed?"

"Oh, please don't swell up and bust!" begged the little rabbit. "Mother says if you swallow a cork it will swell and swell inside you until you can't stand it any longer."

"What's that?" asked the little chipmunk. "Did I swallow a cork?"

"Yes, you did," sobbed Little Jack Rabbit. "And it's all my fault. I let it drop into your mouth by mistake. Of course, you didn't see it. How could you, with your eyes shut?"

Chippy Chipmunk was now thoroughly frightened. "You've murdered me, that's what you've done, Little Jack Rabbit. Oh, what shall I do?"

Just then who should come along but Dr. Heron. He had very long legs and a very long bill. All doctors have very long bills, otherwise it wouldn't pay to be a doctor.

"What's the trouble?" he asked, opening his little black bag. "Anybody sick?"

"I'm going to be," cried Chippy Chipmunk. "Oh, dear Dr. Heron, don't let me die! Please don't!"

"Stuff and nonsense! Don't talk like that!" said the big bird doctor. "Put out your tongue."

"Can you see the cork?" asked Little Jack Rabbit. The little chipmunk was just going to ask the same question, but Dr. Heron had hold of his tongue, so he couldn't.

"See what?" asked the doctor. "What are you talking about?"

"Chippy Chipmunk swallowed a cork," said Little Jack Rabbit. "And he'll swell up and bust in just a few minutes. Oh, dear, oh, dear. And it's all my fault."

"Well, I do see something," said Dr. Heron, squinting down the little chipmunk's throat. "My, but it's a long way down." And Dr. Heron looked very serious, very serious indeed.

"Now sit still and don't you sneeze. Open wider, if you please; Maybe I can pull it out If you do not cry or pout."

Then he pushed down his long thin bill and pulled out the cork.

"Oh joy!" cried Chippy Chipmunk as soon as Dr. Heron let go of his tongue.

"I usually charge ten little fishes for an operation like this, but, seeing it's you, and I didn't have to come all the way over to your house, I'll ask only five," said the kind bird doctor.

When Little Jack Rabbit heard this he winked his tail and wagged his nose at the chipmunk, and the first thing you know away they went, leaving the doctor's bill unpaid, which wasn't a very nice thing to do. No indeed.

When we are well the doctor's bill Is never even thought of, till Old Mr. Malady comes by With trembling hand and tearful eye.

We always should be square and true, And pay our bills when they are due. Perhaps then Mr. Malady Will never bother you and me.

THE SONG OF PROMISE

Wintertime, you'll soon be going, With your cold winds, blowing, blowing, And your gray clouds snowing, snowing.

Soon the warm South Wind will sing, And the Blue Bells sweetly ring,-- Then we'll know it's really Spring!

Mr. Merry Sun was up bright and early, and from his blue sky shone down with cheerful warmth. From his little room in the Old Bramble Patch Little Jack Rabbit awoke with a sweet song ringing in his ear. What was it? It sounded so sweet and clear that the little rabbit opened his window to listen. There it came again, across the Sunny Meadow like a song of promise. Somehow, it made the little rabbit happy, and jumping out of bed, he ate his breakfast in a hurry and then hopped over to the Old Rail Fence.

"Tir-rell-loo, tir-rell-loo!" sounded the music of a bird.

It was a beautiful whistle, clear as a silver bell, and the little rabbit took a hop, skip and jump, for somehow he felt happier than he had for a long, long time.

At first he thought it might be Jimmy Jay who was whistling. But then, he never whistled so sweetly as this. So the little rabbit hopped along, over the dry sodden grass which all winter had been pressed down tight by the heavy snow drifts, past the Big Chestnut Tree, where Chippy Chipmunk used to gather nuts, until, by and by, not so very far, he saw Blue Bird. Yes Sir. He saw the little Messenger of Spring. There he sat on the top rail of the Old Rail Fence singing away as if his heart were full of sunshine. And I guess it was, for how could he have sung so sweetly if it hadn't been?

"Spring is here, Spring is here, I'm the bearer of good cheer.

Listen to my tale of joy, Little white furred Bunny Boy.

Soon Miss South Wind will be here, And the violet will appear.

Pussy Willow by the brook You will find if you but look.

Tir-rell-loo! Tir-rell-loo. I'm the little bird of blue!"

And as the little rabbit looked over the Sunny Meadow it seemed as if under the warm rays of Mr. Merry Sun that the brown grass turned a tender green and the trees began to murmur in the wind the half forgotten song of summer.

"Hurray, Hurrah!" cried the little rabbit, and he hopped away to the Old Duck Pond to see if Granddaddy Bullfrog had come out of his hiding place way down in the muddy bottom. But, No Sireemam. Old Granddaddy Bullfrog wasn't going to catch his death of cold by coming out too soon, neither was Teddy Turtle. They knew better, for the ice was still floating in great pieces on the surface of the water and the old mill wheel hadn't yet begun to turn around.

SPRING IS HERE

When you first hear welcome news, You can hardly keep your shoes From running off with both your feet And telling every one you meet.

This is just the way little Jack Rabbit felt on seeing Blue Bird, the sweet-voiced Messenger of Spring. To know that Spring had come, after the long hard Winter, made the little rabbit almost as happy as if it were Xmas morning.

"There comes Professor Jim Crow," exclaimed the little rabbit, looking out from the Old Bramble Patch, and then over the Sunny Meadow fluttered Redwing and Song Sparrow.

"All the birds will soon be here," laughed the little bunny, hopping out to the Sunny Meadow to look about him. Pretty soon he heard the merry whistle of Mr. Meadow Lark.

"Good-by, Little Jack Rabbit!" cried Snow Bunting. "I'm going farther North. It will soon be too warm for me!"

And then Mr. Meadow Lark whistled, "I'm here! I'm here!" And his yellow breast shone in the sunlight as bright as a new Lincoln penny!

After that the little rabbit hopped over to the Bubbling Brook, and, would you believe it, the ice was gone and the sparkling water was flowing swiftly onward to the deep blue sea!

Oh, how fast the snow was melting. Only along the Old Rail Fence or in the hollows were patches of dingy whiteness.

Up at the Old Farm the feathered folk strutted about in the warm sunshine. Even the Weathercock seemed more lively as he turned this way and that in the gentle breeze.

"Spring is coming, Spring is here, Soon the meadow will be clear Of its snowy coat of white And the grass will sparkle bright With the dandelion and All the yellow cowslip band.

"I must tell all my friends that Spring is here," cried the little rabbit. He just couldn't wait, you see, for them to find it out. He thought he must be a little four-footed messenger boy bunny and spread the glad tidings. So away he hopped, clippity, clip, lippity, lip, past the Barnyard where Cocky Doodle was singing his cock-a-doodle-do song, and Henny Penny was cackling over her new laid egg.

Ducky Waddles, too, was happy as could be. In a few days he would be swimming in the Old Duck Pond and standing on his head to gobble up the little fish that came too near his great big yellow bill.

"Good-by, I'm off to tell the glad news," and away went the little rabbit. Pretty soon, not so very far, he saw at the edge of the Shady Forest, on his favorite tree, Professor Jim Crow in his glistening suit of black feathers.

LITTLE MESSENGER BOY BUNNY

The Gentle South Wind in the trees Is turning buds to tender leaves, And down the crystal Bubbling Brook The Pussy Willows nod and look To see if o'er the meadow green The Dandelions can be seen. Soon all the flowers will be here And Chilly Winter disappear.

Little Jack Rabbit hopped up to the big hollow tree where Peter Possum and Mrs. Possum had slept all winter with their little baby possums. "Come out, come out! Spring is here!"

"What's that?" asked Peter Possum, sleepily. "Who's calling?"

"It's me!" laughed Little Jack Rabbit. "Mr. Merry Sun is bright and warm, and the Pussy Willows are playing with the Cattails by the Bubbling Brook." And away he hopped, for he couldn't wait another minute, he was so anxious to spread the good news.

Pretty soon he reached Woody Chuck's front door, and called through the keyhole, "Spring is here! wake up, wake up!" Woody Chuck yawned and stretched his legs, and pretty soon he opened the door, but the little rabbit wasn't there. No siree. He was far away waking up Billy Badger. And after that he hopped over to stir up Chippy Chipmunk and Billy Coon. Dear me. That little rabbit was busy, let me tell you. He just couldn't let anybody find out the good news for himself. He wanted to be the spring's little messenger boy.

All the while the Little Balmy Breezes had been dancing here and there, ringing the blue bells, blowing on the little horn-shaped flowers and whispering to the grasses and ferns.

And Mr. Merry Sun! How he did smile up in his big blue sky.

Mr. North Wind, on his whistling snow horses, had gone up to the North Pole to tell Santa Claus that everybody had forgotten all about Xmas Trees, and that Bobbie Redvest was building a nest in the old apple tree behind the Big Red Barn.

And, goodness me! I almost forgot to mention that the Weathercock had a new suit of gold paint. Yes, sir! The Kind Farmer had climbed up on a ladder with a little bottle of gold paint and a brush to make the Weathercock as bright as a new gold dollar.

Down at the Old Bramble Patch Mrs. Rabbit was housecleaning. The Old Red Rooster had taken down the storm door and stored it away in the barn. He had unwound the straw wrappers from the rose bushes and cleared away the dry leaves from the cellar door. Yes, sir. He was as busy as could be, for Mrs. Rabbit kept one eye on him all the time and he never even had a chance to crow except at two o'clock in the morning.

GRANDDADDY BULLFROG

Now round and round the Mill Wheel turns, But all the Winter through 'Twas tightly bound with icy chains Till Mistress South Wind blew. Then off it started one bright morn To grind the farmer's yellow corn.

Granddaddy Bullfrog seated himself again on the old log to catch a fly for breakfast. All through the cold weather he had slept in the soft mud at the bottom of the Old Duck Pond, but now, that Mr. Merry Sun was shining down so warm and bright from the big blue sky, the old gentleman frog had kicked out his long legs and swam up to sit once more in his accustomed place.

But, goodness me! How thin he was. Why, his white waistcoat was all wrinkled and his pantaloons bagged dreadfully. Yes, sir. They were much too big for his long thin legs, and Granddaddy Bullfrog at once set to work to catch a million flies so as to grow nice and fat and jolly by the good old Summer time.

Teddy Turtle, too, had come up from the soft mud. He knew it was time to be about, for Gentle Spring has a way of telling all the little people of the Shady Forest and the Sunny Meadow just when it's time to wake up and get out in the warm sunshine.

And while Granddaddy Bullfrog quietly caught a dozen flies and Teddy Turtle crawled up on the bank, the little rabbit shouted:

"Helloa, helloa! There isn't much snow Anywhere to be seen, and the meadow is green. Say, Granddaddy Frog, out there on your log, Are you glad it is Spring, ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling!"

"There, you've gone and made me lose a fly," said the old gentleman frog. "But, never mind! I'm glad to see you, little rabbit," and Granddaddy Bullfrog went "Ker-dunk, ker-chunk," and wiped his spectacles with a pink silk handkerchief.

Just then from a little pool close to the Old Duck Pond came the sound of voices. "What's that?" thought the little rabbit, and he hopped over the marshy ground to look into the little pool. And what do you think he saw? Why, a lot of dark spots on the water, each one singing a tune. And, Oh dear me! The little bunny was so surprised that he leaned way over the water, when, all of a sudden, the little dark spots disappeared and all he could see were funny little forms swimming away under the water.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Granddaddy Bullfrog. "They are little singing toads. Mr. Tree Toad's grandchildren!"

The little rabbit was so surprised that he said nothing. Neither did Granddaddy Bullfrog until the next story.

RAT-A-TAT-TAT

"Well, well, well," thought the little rabbit, as he hopped away from the Old Duck Pond, "Granddaddy Bullfrog is a wise old frog." And I guess the little rabbit was right, for everybody doesn't know that those little funny singing toads I told you about in the last story are called Hylas, although everybody knows that some candies are! But it isn't spelt the same way. Oh dear me, no! But I don't believe Granddaddy Bullfrog knew that!

And while the little rabbit was hopping along towards the Shady Forest, he heard a noise like the beating of a drum. So he stopped to listen. There it came again, rat-a-tat-tat! rat-a-tat-tat! Yes, sir. Those sounds certainly came from the old orchard. So the little rabbit turned and hopped along the Old Rail Fence until he came to an old apple tree just behind the Big Red Barn where the Weathercock lived.

Rat-a-tat-tat! rat-a-tat-tat! "Who can it be?" thought the little rabbit, and he looked all around, and then, all of a sudden, he saw Red Head, the Woodpecker, building a new home for himself in the old apple tree.

Chip, chop, chip, chop, back and forth went the woodpecker's sharp bill, cutting out the chips from the old apple bough.

My! but it was hard work. The Miller's Boy always grumbled when his father told him to chop the wood, but Red Head kept right along, happy as could be. You see, the little people of the wood don't grumble if they have to work, and let me tell you in the Spring they have lots to do. Every one is busy making his home. Some are digging holes in the ground and some are making nests in the trees. But everybody is happy as the day is long. And the birds sing as they work, for a song helps the work along. Helps you do your very best, whether it's a hole or nest. Sing away, and never fret, worry won't keep out the wet. Sing and work until the sun tells you that the day is done.

Oh, dear. There goes my typewriter making up poetry!

Well, let me see where I was before my typewriter became a poet. Oh, yes. Red Head, the Woodpecker, was chopping out a little home for himself in the old apple tree, and Little Jack Rabbit had just discovered who it was who was making that queer chip-chop noise.

"Haven't got any time to talk," said the busy little woodpecker. "I must get this house ready for Mrs. Red Head. She says she won't wait another day," and he started to chop again, so the little rabbit hopped over to the Sunny Meadow where Mrs. Cow was eating the fresh young grass. Every now and then she would ring the bell on her collar, and then her little calf would run up and ask her what she wanted. And Mrs. Cow would rub her nose over the little calf's ear and whisper: "I only wanted to keep you from going away too far."

BUSY PEOPLE

The little Balmy Breezes shook The Pussy Willows by the brook Until they all began to mew, Just like real pussy kittens do.

And this made Mrs. Cow laugh, who, in the story before this, you remember, had tinkled the little bell she carried on a leather collar around her neck, to caution her little calf not to run too far away.

Well, just then Little Jack Rabbit came along to tell Mrs. Cow what Red Head, the Woodpecker, was doing up in the old orchard. "Yes, he's making a nice little home for Mrs. Red Head," said the little rabbit "Everybody is working but me. I'm just hopping around doing nothing," and he gave a great big sigh and scratched his left ear with his right hind foot.

"You're the first person I ever met who longed for work," laughed Mrs. Cow. "Up at the farm the men are grumbling because they must get up with Mr. Merry Sun and work all day!"

Just then Jimmy Jay flew by in his beautiful blue coat and white waistcoat. Now Jimmy Jay is a dreadful tease. He's the biggest tease in all the Shady Forest. And when he saw the little bunny, he stopped to ask a question.

"Why don't you build a house for yourself on the Sunny Meadow?"

"I don't need one," answered the little rabbit. "Old Bramble Patch, U. S. A., is where I live."

"But everybody is building a home," went on Jimmy Jay. "Why don't you get to work?" and the mischievous little bird picked off a hard round bud and threw it at the little rabbit. Then off he flew, singing at the top of his voice:

"Some folks are so lazy They never do a thing, But bother everybody Who's busy in the Spring."

"I wonder if he means me," thought the little rabbit. "Oh, dear me! I wonder if he means me!" and this time the little rabbit spoke out loud, for he felt so badly he just couldn't keep it to himself.

"If he does he isn't telling the truth," said Bobbie Redvest.

"He's a mischief maker," cried another voice, and there stood Timmy Meadow Mouse. "Don't let him worry you, little rabbit." After that the little bunny felt ever so much better, for what is nicer than to have your friends stick up for you in this world, I should like to know, and he hopped off home to help his mother, who was busy beating the carpets and putting up the curtains in camphor for the Summer. And after he had polished the front doorknob and fed the canary, she gave him five carrot cents and told him he might go down to the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy a raspberry lollypop.

MOTHER NATURE

"Oh, I shall be so glad when the leaves are on the trees and bushes and the Sunny Meadow is covered with grass," said Little Jack Rabbit, one lovely morning. You see, in the dear old Summer time there are thousands of hiding places, but in the Winter and early Spring everything is bare. I'm sure I don't know how this little bunny, all winter, would have escaped the eager eyes of Hungry Hawk, Mr. Wicked Weasel and Danny Fox, if his fur overcoat hadn't been white--for, of course, you haven't forgotten that his coat turns white in the Winter time, and that this is one way that Loving Mother Nature looks after the welfare of her little rabbit children. For when the snow is on the ground Little Jack Rabbit in his white fur overcoat looks like a snow ball, and at the first sign of danger he sits perfectly still, making it mighty hard for even Hungry Hawk's bright eyes to see him.

"Now, don't be wishing for something that's coming as surely as you're a foot high," said Mrs. Rabbit. "And if you're wishing for something you're not sure is going to happen, stop wishing and go out and get it," and then she patted the little rabbit on the cheek and went back to her ironing board.

As soon as he had brought in the wood and polished the front doorknob, he set off for the Shady Forest.