Little Jack Rabbit and Mr. Wicked Wolf

Part 1

Chapter 14,322 wordsPublic domain

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND MR. WICKED WOLF

_LITTLE JACK RABBIT BOOKS_ (Trademark Registered)

BY DAVID CORY

LITTLE JACK RABBIT’S ADVENTURES

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND DANNY FOX

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND THE SQUIRREL BROTHERS

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND CHIPPY CHIPMUNK

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND THE BIG BROWN BEAR

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND UNCLE JOHN HARE

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND PROFESSOR CROW

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND OLD MAN WEASEL

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND MR. WICKED WOLF

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND HUNGRY HAWK

_LITTLE JACK RABBIT BOOKS_ (Trademark Registered)

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND MR. WICKED WOLF

BY DAVID CORY

Author of

LITTLE JACK RABBIT BOOKS THE ICEBERG EXPRESS THE MAGIC SOAP-BUBBLE THE CRUISE OF THE NOAH’S ARK THE WIND WAGON

ILLUSTRATED BY H. S. BARBOUR

NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

PAGE

THE LITTLE FIR TREE 7

XMAS EVE 11

XMAS DAY 15

MR. WICKED WOLF 19

THE THINKING CAP 23

BRAVE YELLOW DOG TRAMP 27

SANTA’S REINDEER 31

PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE 35

THE MILKY WAY 40

HOME AGAIN 45

RESOLUTIONS 49

LONELY TIMES 54

THE BUNNYSNOBILE 58

THE OLD WEDDING STOVEPIPE HAT 62

THE POLICEMAN DOG 66

THE OLD HOLLOW STUMP 70

MR. MINER MOLE 74

PRECIOUS STONES 78

THREE GUESSES 82

POOR LADY LOVE 86

MR. MERRY SUN 90

BOBBIE REDVEST 94

THREE OLD RASCALS 98

A PRISONER 102

THE RABBITVILLE TROLLEY 106

FARMER DADDY LONGLEGS 110

ACORN COTTAGE 114

JENNY WREN’S PENNY 118

HUNGRY HAWK 122

CANDY CATS AND CHOCOLATE MICE 126

LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND MR. WICKED WOLF

THE LITTLE FIR TREE

The little fir tree in the wood All through the year has been so good, That now the winter time is here And Xmas day so very near, The birds have chosen it to be A happy little Xmas tree.

“Little rabbit,” said Professor Jim Crow as he opened his little Wisdom Book, “let me read you something, for this is the season of good cheer and happy hearts and Xmas stockings and cranberry tarts.” And then that wise old bird turned to page 23 and began:

“When you hang up your stocking Along the chimney place In hope that Santa Claus will fill Up every little space, Oh, don’t forget the beggar child Who wanders on the street, And looks with longing eyes upon The window’s Xmas treat.”

“Do you suppose he’d like some of my last year’s toys?” asked Little Jack Rabbit.

“Of course he would,” answered Professor Jim Crow, and he smiled to himself as he shut his book, for he knew he had sowed a good seed for a kindly deed in the little rabbit’s heart. And then that old black bird flew away, and Little Jack Rabbit hopped home to the Old Bramble Patch and up to his little room. And after he had looked over all his toys he packed some in a box and took them downstairs.

“Mother, I’m going to the village to see the little ragged bunny boy.”

“What for?” asked Lady Love. And if you haven’t guessed what, I’ll tell you. He was going to give that little ragged rabbit boy the toys so that he would have a merry Xmas, too.

“Look out for Mr. Wicked Wolf,” said Lady Love, and then she gave the little bunny a lollypop and kissed him good-by, and after that away he hopped, and by and by, after a while, he came to a shabby little house near Rabbitville. So he knocked on the door and pretty soon it opened and there stood the little ragged rabbit’s mother.

“Here are some Xmas presents,” said the little bunny. “They are my last year’s best toys, but I want your little ragged rabbit to have a happy Xmas.” And then he hopped away as fast as he could, for he was afraid the rabbit lady was going to cry. And maybe she did, for sometimes people cry when they are happy, although I never heard of their laughing when they were sad.

XMAS EVE

To-morrow will be Xmas. Oh, what a happy day, For Santa Claus will empty all The presents from his sleigh. And every little girl and boy Will have some candy and a toy.

This is the song the little canary bird sang in her gold cage while Little Jack Rabbit polished the front door knob and Lady Love made the stuffing for the big turkey. And just then the telephone bell rang and Uncle John Hare, the old gentleman rabbit, said, “Hello! I want to speak to Little Jack Rabbit.”

“Wait a minute,” said the little Black Cricket who had answered the telephone because Lady Love was busy and Little Jack Rabbit couldn’t leave the door knob all covered with wet polish, and she ran out to the front porch and said:

“Uncle John wants to speak to you on the ’phone.” Well, by this time, the door knob was polished nice and dry, so the little rabbit hopped inside.

“Hello, it’s me,” said the little bunny, although my teacher always told me to say, “It’s I,” but never mind, Uncle John knew what the little rabbit meant, just the same.

“What do you want for Xmas?” asked the dear, kind, old gentleman rabbit. “Tell me a thousand things, and then you can’t guess what I’m going to get.”

So the little rabbit thought and thought, and by and by, after a while, and maybe a little longer, he thought of 999. But, oh dear me, he couldn’t think of just one more. Wasn’t that too bad?

“Well, never mind,” laughed Uncle John. “That’s enough. And now I’ll go down to the Three-in-one-cent Store, and to-morrow you’ll see what I bought.” And then he hung up the receiver and went out to the garage, hitched up the Bunnymobile, and pretty soon, not so very long, he reached the Three-in-one-cent Store in Rabbitville, on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Popcorn Street.

“I guess I’d better go over to the bank and get some money first,” thought the old gentleman rabbit. So he hopped across the street and wrote a check and then the paying teller gave him a lot of money for it--lettuce dollar bills and carrot cents and a ten-carrot gold piece, and after that he hopped back to the Three-in-one-cent Store and went inside. And what do you suppose was the first thing he saw? Why, a lovely book all about Little Jack Rabbit. “I’ll take that book,” said the old gentleman bunny as quick as a twinkle. And then he bought a pair of roller skates and a pair of ice skates and a red sled and a bag of candy and a box of lead soldiers and a big red apple and a magic lantern. And a lot more things besides, but, goodness me, I haven’t got room enough in this story to put them in, so we’ll have to wait and call up on Christmas morning and ask him. And if you don’t know his telephone it’s “O, O, O, Ring Happy Bell, Old Brier Patch!”

XMAS DAY

“Merrie Xmas!” Hear the cry From every house beneath the sky; And every child is up so soon That he can see the silver moon, Who’s had not time to tell the sun That Xmas Day has just begun.

Well, the Old Grandfather Clock in the hall had just struck thirteen o’clock when Little Jack Rabbit woke up, and before he even jumped out of bed he called out, “Merrie Xmas, Mother.” And then, of course, Lady Love woke up, and the alarm clock couldn’t make up its mind whether it would say anything or not. But after a little while it began to sing:

“Awake, awake; it’s Xmas morn, Don’t linger in your bed; I see a pair of roller skates, A dandy coasting sled; A stocking full as full can be, And a lovely little Xmas tree.”

And then the little Black Cricket came out of her crack in the warm hearth and looked in her stocking, for she believed in Santa Claus just the same as she always did when she was a little young cricket and played hop, skip and jump in the Sunny Meadow grass.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! I’ve got everything I asked for!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. So you see, dear, kind Uncle John Hare must have spent all his money at the Three-in-one-cent Store!

Well, by and by, after a while, they heard sleigh bells outside in the Old Bramble Patch, and pretty soon Uncle John Hare jumped out of his Bunnymobile and came into the house to give Lady Love a lovely gold vanity bag and a pair of lorgnettes, a kind of lollypop eyeglass, you know.

And, oh, yes, oh, yes! I forgot to say he gave the little Black Cricket a new fur piece and the Canary Bird a bushel of bird seed. And after that every one was happy as could be. And just as they were all sitting down to their Xmas dinner a knock came at the kitchen door.

“Come in if you’re not Mr. Wicked Wolf,” said Uncle John Hare, and who do you suppose walked in? Why, the Yellow Dog Tramp, with a large package in his front paws.

“Merrie Xmas to you all, And many of them, too. I’d love to stay awhile And have a feast with you.”

“Sit right down and make yourself at home, and a Merrie Xmas to you, Mr. Yellow Dog Tramp,” said the little rabbits.

“But you mustn’t bark,” added Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, “the fairies might come and carry away the Xmas tree.”

MR. WICKED WOLF

Well, the Xmas tree didn’t run back to the friendly forest as I feared it might in the last story. It stayed right in the little house in the Old Bramble Patch, and the night after Xmas when the little Black Cricket came out on the hearth, that dear little Xmas tree began to sing:

“Oh, I have had my heart’s delight, I’ve been a Xmas tree, All hung with candles shining bright And tinsel fair to see. I do not miss the shady wood, The music of the breeze, For I have found my heart’s delight A little child to please.”

Well, in the morning Little Jack Rabbit took his skates and went down to the old mill pond, and so did Uncle John Hare, for he could skate mighty well, let me tell you, even if he did have gray whiskers and a pink waistcoat. Why, he could do the grapevine twist and the letter S and maybe the whole alphabet, for all I know.

Well, anyway, off they went, Little Jack Rabbit and his kind Uncle John Hare, and when they came to the pond they put on their skates, and then off they went over the ice as fast as the wind, and maybe faster, and by and by, after a while, who should come by but Mr. Grouse. He had on his snowshoes which kind Mother Nature had given him.

“Ha, ha,” said Uncle John Hare. “You can’t go over the snow as fast as I can on the ice, my man.” You see, Uncle John Hare knew how to make up poetry and had once written some in a beautiful birthday album.

“No, but I can slide over the snow just as well as if I were on a toboggan.” And maybe he would have shown Uncle John Hare just what he could do, if all of a sudden, something hadn’t happened. And isn’t it too bad that something always has to happen just when these two dear little rabbits are having a nice time?

And now I suppose you are wondering what did happen, so I’ll tell you right away. Mr. Wicked Wolf jumped out from behind a snow drift, and said: “Ha, ha. What shall I eat first--rabbit or grouse?” Wasn’t that a dreadful thing to hear? Well, I just guess it was. And then what do you think Uncle John Hare did. Why, he just picked up a piece of ice and hit that wicked old wolf right on the end of his nose. And then, of course, Mr. Wicked Wolf had to wipe his eyes, for they were full of tears, and while he was doing that the two little rabbits skated away, and Mr. Grouse snowshoed away, and if the skates don’t come off and the snowshoes, too, I’ll tell you some more in a day or two.

THE THINKING CAP

Oh, dear me. I just hate to start this story, for I must tell you something very unpleasant. You remember in the last one Little Jack Rabbit and Uncle John Hare were skating away as fast as they could from Mr. Wicked Wolf. But, oh, dear me. All of a sudden, just like that, Uncle John Hare’s skate came off. And of course that wasn’t lucky, let me tell you. Oh, my, no. It was simply dreadful. And when Mr. Wicked Wolf saw the predicament, which means a dreadful fix, you know, which the dear old gentleman rabbit was in, he kicked up his heels and pretty soon he was so close that even if Uncle John Hare could have fastened on his skate again he never would have been able to get away.

“Ha ha, ho ho, now I’ve got you two, And I’ll skate you both till you’re black and blue, And then I’ll take you home for a stew. For Mrs. Wolf knows how to make A rabbit stew and a big pancake.”

And, oh, dear me again, and maybe once more, for I don’t know what’s going to happen, and maybe it will happen before I can write it, and then what will we all do, I should like to know? Maybe there won’t be any more stories.

“Wait just a minute, Mr. Wicked Wolf,” said the old gentleman rabbit, and he took out his gold watch and chain. “It’s just 13 o’clock, and that’s a very unlucky number.” Mr. Wicked Wolf scratched his head, for he didn’t know what to do, and neither would I and neither would you if we had been there.

“I’ll wait till five minutes past 13,” said the wicked old wolf with a grin, which showed all his white teeth, and the gold one which Dr. Dentist Duck had put in after the railroad accident, which I’ll tell you about some day if I don’t forget it.

“Now put on your thinking cap,” said Uncle John Hare. So Little Jack Rabbit opened his knapsack and took out a little pink worsted thinking cap and put it on his head and pretty soon, not so very long, before the five minutes were up, of course, he said:

“Mr. Wolf, if I were you I wouldn’t eat a rabbit stew; I’d rather have a chicken pie If I were you and you were I.”

“I never thought of chicken pie,” answered Mr. Wicked Wolf, and the more he thought about it the more he wanted it. So pretty soon he said:

“I’ll let you off this time if you’ll motor me to the Farmyard.” But, oh, dear me! Those two little rabbits didn’t want to do that. No, sireemam.

“Hurry up and decide,” growled Mr. Wicked Wolf with a dreadful grin.

“Wait a minute if you please, I’m so worried I shall sneeze,”

said Uncle John Hare. I guess he would have said ’most anything to gain time.

Just then, all of a sudden, who should come along but the Yellow Dog Tramp. Wasn’t that lucky? So the little rabbits started off in their Bunnymobile without Mr. Wicked Wolf.

BRAVE YELLOW DOG TRAMP

Now if the brave Yellow Dog Tramp had been a minute later perhaps and maybe the two little rabbits would have been eaten up in the last story. For just as he came along Mr. Wicked Wolf grew impatient and with a dreadful growl jumped out from behind the Bunnymobile.

And, oh, dear me. Didn’t his eyes look fierce, and didn’t his mouth look red and his teeth white?

And if you can think of anything worse at night than a wolf’s face, please tell me, for I’d like to know if there is anything that really can scare that brave Yellow Dog Tramp.

“Stop, or I’ll bite one of your rubber tires,” screamed Mr. Wicked Wolf, and he took hold with his teeth. And then what do you think that brave Yellow Dog Tramp did?

Why, he leaned out of the automobile and hit that wolf on the head with a monkey wrench, and that wolf saw three million five hundred and ninety-nine and a half stars, and then he rolled over on the snow and began to cry, and then the tire which he had bitten burst and all the air came out--Oh, dear me, now I’m saying something which isn’t true, for the Bunnymobile had runners in the winter and not wheels.

So how could air come out of a steel runner? No, sir, that wasn’t what happened at all. It was this way.

The old gentleman rabbit got out the air pump and blew snow all over that wolf till he was covered with a drift as high as the Old Rail Fence and it took him all night to dig himself out.

Well, after that Uncle John Hare started off for home, but just before he reached the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot Street, he came across the Policeman Dog, who, when he saw the Yellow Dog Tramp, shouted:

“Stop the car,” and this made Uncle John Hare angry, for he knew that Policeman Dog wanted to arrest the Yellow Dog Tramp. So Uncle John Hare made the Bunnymobile go so fast that the Policeman Dog’s whistle fell out of his mouth.

“That’s very kind of you,” said the Yellow Dog Tramp, and he began to bark, and just then a little deer came by.

“Can you tell me if Santa Claus is around? I have a brother who helps pull his sleigh and I want to see him.”

“I guess you’re too late, my little deer,” said Uncle John Hare, “Xmas is over and Santa Claus won’t come again for another year.” And then the little deer began to cry:

“Oh, dear, it is so long to wait ’Till Xmas comes around, What shall I do until the time When Xmas bells will sound.”

“Jump into my Bunnymobile,” said kind Uncle John Hare. “You come home with us. I have a little barn right next to my garage where it’s nice and warm. You shall have some hay to eat.”

So the little deer jumped into the Bunnymobile and the kind old gentleman rabbit took him home, and on the next page you shall hear what happened after that.

SANTA’S REINDEER

In the story before this I promised to tell you what happened to the little reindeer.

Well, after kind Uncle John Hare had put the Bunnymobile in the garage, he led the little reindeer into the barn and gave him some nice hay to eat, and then he closed the door so that Mr. North Wind couldn’t get in, and after that the kind old gentleman bunny went into the house, with Little Jack Rabbit and the Yellow Dog Tramp who was with him, you remember, in the last story.

Pretty soon the old gentleman rabbit made the graphophone play a tune, and this is what it was:

“Meet me at the fountain when the syrups are in bloom, And the lollypops are blushing like roses red in June, And the fizzy soda water comes sparkling in the glass, And the ice cream cones are dancing like fairies in the grass.”

“Oh, dear me! I wish the good old summer time were here once more, I do, for that’s the time a Yellow Dog has something nice to do,” and the Yellow Dog Tramp sighed a great big sigh and lay down in front of the open fire and fell asleep. So Uncle John Hare blew out the electric lights and pulled down the shades and went to bed, and then he had a dream.

And then he had a nightmare, and then he woke himself up with a dreadful yell, for he thought a crocodile was just going to swallow his old wedding stovepipe hat. I suppose the crocodile thought it was a big chocolate drop.

Well, after that, the old gentleman rabbit looked at his gold watch and chain, and as it was nearly fourteen o’clock, and Mr. Merry Sun was just getting up, Uncle John Hare dressed himself and went downstairs to tell his Japanese servant to have breakfast as soon as possible, and then he went out to the barn to see how the little reindeer was getting along. And, oh, dear me! Wasn’t he surprised to find three more reindeer in the barn.

“Why, where did you come from?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, and he scratched his left ear with his right hind foot, for he couldn’t think how they ever got into the barn.

“We are Santa Claus’s deer,” they answered, “and if you’ll hitch us up to your old sleigh we’ll be glad to give you a ride.”

So the old gentleman rabbit hitched them up to his old-fashioned sleigh, and then he put on his fur overcoat and gloves and told Little Jack Rabbit and the Yellow Dog Tramp to get in, too, and away they went to the Old Bramble Patch.

And how those beautiful reindeer did go! They tossed their long horns and threw out their heels and the bells on the sleigh made beautiful music. Well, by and by, pretty soon, not so very long, they drove up in front of the Old Bramble Patch.

The next minute Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, hopped out of the house. And wasn’t she surprised? She hadn’t seen Santa Claus’s reindeer for a long time, and neither have I, not since I was a little boy and stayed awake all Xmas eve night.

PHOTOGRAPHER CRANE

Well, sir! by this time if ever a little bunny was crazy to go sleigh riding it was Little Jack Rabbit as he looked at the four reindeer hitched up to the old sleigh. And wouldn’t you love to go sleigh riding behind four of Santa Claus’s reindeer?

Well, I just guess you would, and so would I and so would the Czar of Russia if he hadn’t lost his throne.

“Now hurry up and get on your fur overcoat,” said the old gentleman rabbit, while the reindeer pawed the snow and tossed their antlers, which are their horns, you know--until the bells on the harness began chiming:

“Down from the North come the reindeer a-flying, Silver bells tinkle as onward they go, Faster and faster their fleet hoofs are trying To race with the North Wind that blows o’er the snow, Tinkle, tink, tinkle, and crinkle, crink, crinkle, Swift through the snowflakes they dash in a row.”

And pretty soon out came Little Jack Rabbit with his fur overcoat, and jumping into the sleigh sat down beside dear, kind Uncle John Hare.

“On, Dixon and Blixon! On, Bullet and Arrow!” cried the old gentleman rabbit, and away went the reindeer, while Lady Love waved her calico apron from the window and smiled to see how happy was her little bunny boy.

Well, after a while, or maybe a mile, Little Jack Rabbit said:

“Let’s go down to the photographer and have our picture taken.”

“All right,” said Uncle John Hare, and the Yellow Dog Tramp said he’d never had his picture taken in his life and would be tickled to death to have one to send home to his old mother who lived in New Hampshire and hadn’t heard from him since he’d left home.

Well, when they came to the picture place the photographer, who was a long-legged crane--as I told you once upon a time some fifty stories ago, or maybe more--came out of his little picture gallery.

And, oh, my! he shivered so that he almost spoilt the picture, for he had to bring his camera outside because the four reindeer and the sleigh and the two little rabbits and the Yellow Dog Tramp couldn’t get into his little shop.

You see, the crane didn’t have any stockings on and his great long legs got dreadfully cold.

“Now, look pleasant, if you please, Excuse me while I take a sneeze!”

and Photographer Crane almost sneezed his head off, as he stood on one leg and pulled the other one out of the snow way up under his feathers. Then he sneezed again.

But, by and by, the pictures were taken, and Uncle John Hare paid for them all, and the Yellow Dog Tramp took his over to the Postoffice and sent it to his mother, way up in New Hampshire, and on the back he wrote:

“Oftentimes I’m thinking, Mother dear, of you, Some day when I’ve made my pile I’ll come home in grand old style, So be patient just a while, Keep for me your same old smile, Mother dear, won’t you?”

I guess when that hobo dog’s mother received his picture she smiled,--or maybe she cried, for sometimes we cry when a happy sadness comes into our heart.

THE MILKY WAY

Now let me see where we left off in the last story. Sometimes I get all mixed up, and perhaps I’d never get things right if I hadn’t made a book out of these stories, so that I can look back and see whether it was Uncle John Hare or the Big Brown Bear, or the Yellow Dog Tramp, or Aunt Columbia who had to stop doing something because I didn’t have any more room.