Part 2

Well, here we are. The Yellow Dog Tramp had just posted his photograph to his dear old mother way up in New Hampshire, and after he had thanked the postoffice lady, who was an old maid duck, he jumped into the sleigh and said:

“Hurry on, you Reindeer, Make the snowflakes fly, Faster, faster, faster, Don’t you balk or shy!”

And then you should have seen how those Reindeer went. Well, sir, they went so fast that pretty soon their feet hardly touched the earth, and then they didn’t touch at all, and then, oh, me, oh, my! They rose right up in the air just like a low sailing rocket, over the treetops and over the steeples, over the houses and over the peoples. Goodness me!

There goes my typewriter again making up poetry and not putting it into verses, and if it does it again I’m going to change the ribbon and get one that is red, white and blue. My typewriter must show its color as well as a man!

Well, pretty soon, the old gentleman rabbit began to get uneasy, for he wasn’t used to sailing through the sky in a sleigh drawn by reindeer. “What do you think’s going to happen!” he asked anxiously.

“Oh, don’t worry, Uncle John,” answered the little rabbit. “I’ve often seen pictures of Santa Claus riding through the air in his sleigh.”

And this quite comforted the old gentleman bunny, you know, and he began to smile and the Yellow Dog Tramp barked two times and a half, and after that they came to a snowy road right in the sky.

And the hoofs of the Reindeer made a lovely tinkling noise as they beat on the silvery frozen path. But of course the little rabbits didn’t know they were sliding over the Milky Way.

No, indeed. And they didn’t know it was all frozen over, either, and neither would I have known this if a little snowbird hadn’t told me.

Well, after a while, they came to a place where the Great Bear and the Little Bear lived. It was way up in the Star Country, you see, and of course it was all very strange.

But the Reindeer seemed to know the way, and so Uncle John Hare just let them go. And then the Great Bear, who sat on a piece of ice that had five sharp points just like a star, said:

“Mr. John Hare, I’m glad to see you.” And then the Little Bear, who also sat on a five-pointed piece of ice, said: “I’m glad to see you, Little Jack Rabbit!”

And then the Reindeer stopped, for they had been going around and around the two bears all the time, you know, and the two little rabbits hopped out of the sleigh, and into the next story.

Up in the sky Ever so high The snowflakes crinkle and winkle, And the Moon Man winks With a couple of blinks, And the little stars tinkle, tinkle.

HOME AGAIN

Well, as soon as the two little rabbits had hopped out of the sleigh, the Great Bear stretched out his paw and shook hands with Uncle John Hare and the Little Bear shook paws with Little Jack Rabbit, and while all this was going on, the Reindeer suddenly started off.

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, “there goes my team of Reindeer! How are we ever going to get home?”

Now wasn’t that a dreadful fix to be in? Well, I should say it was. Way up in a Sky Country, in Star Land, making a call on the Great Bear and the Little Bear! And no way to get home unless you slid down a moonbeam, and that’s a very dangerous thing to do unless you’re a fairy and know all about it. But don’t get worried, for I’m going to tell you something.

As soon as the Yellow Dog Tramp, who hadn’t jumped out of the sleigh, you remember, saw what was happening, he grabbed up the reins and turned those Reindeer around as quick as a wink, and pretty soon he drove them back to the five-pointed pieces of ice where the two little rabbits and the Great Bear and the Little Bear were sitting.

“Come on!” said the Yellow Dog Tramp. “Let’s get home before the Dog Star catches us!” And away went the Reindeer down the silver Milky Way and pretty soon they were all safely riding over the snow through the Shady Forest toward Uncle John Hare’s house.

“Now we’ll have to go back to the North Pole,” said the Reindeer after they had drawn the sleigh into the barn.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the old gentleman rabbit; “I like sleigh riding. But of course, if you must go, you know best,” and then the reindeer said good-by and went away to the cold north country where Santa Claus lives and the Xmas trees grow.

And then the Yellow Dog Tramp said he was going back to New Hampshire to see his dear old mother.

“Take this ten-carrot gold piece to her,” said dear, kind, generous Uncle John Hare, and that Tramp Dog almost cried with joy and away he went back to the old homestead in the Green Mountains.

Well, by this time it was pretty late and Mr. Merry Sun had disappeared over the Western Hills, so the two little rabbits went into the house and Uncle John Hare hung up his great fur overcoat and put on his slippers and sat down before the fire to warm his paws, and while he sat there a little cricket came out of a crack in the floor and began to sing:

“I’m the cricket on the hearth, Listen while I sing, Though it’s cold and bleak outdoors, And Jack Frost will nip your paws Round the hearth it’s warm and bright In the fire’s golden light.”

And when that little cricket looked up she saw Uncle John Hare fast asleep and Little Jack Rabbit, too, for they were tired out with their long, long sleigh ride.

RESOLUTIONS

Now, let me see. We left Little Jack Rabbit in Uncle John Hare’s house in the last story, didn’t we? And Uncle John had just brought out a nice apple pie, and the three little grasshoppers and the tiny black cricket had helped the dear old gentleman rabbit eat it up. Well, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit said he must be going, for he wanted to get back to the Old Bramble Patch before New Year’s Eve. So he said good-by and hopped away, and by and by, not so very far, he saw Professor Jim Crow with his little Wisdom Book.

“Wait a minute, little rabbit. Have you thought about the New Year?”

“Oh, yes,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “I’ve thought a lot about it.”

“Let me read you something,” said the wise old professor and then he opened his little Wisdom Book, but first, of course, he put on his spectacles.

“You must make a res-o-lu-tion-- Which means a promise to yourself-- That you will be a rabbit Who will drop a naughty habit, And do to other people what you would do for self.”

And then Professor Jim Crow closed his book with a bang and flew away to read a lesson on good manners to a naughty little cat who wore her mother’s hat.

Well, after that, the little rabbit hopped along and by and by he came in sight of the Old Rail Fence, and through the rails he could see the Old Bramble Patch and his mother hanging out the wash, for it was Monday, and Lady Love washed on Monday, and ironed on Tuesday, and sometimes on Wednesday if Little Jack Rabbit wore more than one shirtwaist a day.

And just then he thought of what the old crow had just read to him: “Let me hand you the clothespins, mother dear, so you won’t have to stoop down and wrinkle your ear.” And this made the kind lady rabbit laugh, for she didn’t know that her little bunny son could make up poetry, just like that, all of a sudden, you know.

Well, pretty soon there was only one clothespin left and two stockings, so he ran into the woodshed and got another clothespin for his mother, and after that they both went into the kitchen, for it was almost lunch time.

“It’s half-past one, and the cake is done, And the prunes are stirred to a turn; So don’t let us wait, but fill up each plate, Or I’m afraid the sliced carrot will burn.”

And, goodness gracious me! When Lady Love heard that she looked all around to see who was telling her what to do. But she didn’t see anybody, and neither did the little rabbit until he looked up at the new clock which Uncle John Hare had given his mother for Xmas and then the little bunny knew who was talking, for just inside the Cuckoo Clock House door stood the little bird who told the time of day.

Pretty soon it began to storm, and Mr. North Wind blew great clouds of snow around the little house in the Old Bramble Patch. And sometimes he whistled down the chimney till the little cricket in the woodbox shivered and wished it were Summer Time again.

Oh, Mr. North Wind blows so shrill, Across the meadow from the hill That little rabbits cuddle tight Around the hearthstone, warm and bright, Where now and then the cricket trills Of lovely spring and daffodils.

LONELY TIMES

The old farm pump is frozen tight, It must have happened in the night When Mr. North Wind fierce and chill, Came blowing down the big high hill.

Goodness me! When the kind-hearted farmer got up in the morning after Cocky Doodles had sung his cock-a-doodle-do song and went out to pump some water, he couldn’t get any. No, siree. There was a big icicle hanging from the pump spout, and the water wouldn’t come out. So he cracked off the icicle and went back into the kitchen for a pail of hot water to pour down the old pump, and after that the water came out of the spout and Mrs. Cow got a drink of water, although she had to wait until the clock struck half-past eight.

And, oh, dear me! It was just as cold over at the Old Bramble Patch and Lady Love had a dreadful time getting breakfast, for Mr. North Wind kept blowing down the chimney and sending the ashes all over the floor, and this made Lady Love dreadfully nervous, for she always liked to have her kitchen spick and span and cook her food on the Hoover plan.

Well, after breakfast was over, Little Jack Rabbit hopped out doors, for he wasn’t afraid of the cold. Oh, my, no. His little white fur overcoat kept him as warm as toast. And just as he was going to hop along the little path he saw Charlie Chickadee and Jimmy Junko flying here and there in the Old Bramble Patch.

“You don’t mind if we eat up the old dried berries, do you?” asked the little Chickadee, “for there isn’t much to find when the ground is covered with snow.”

“Eat all you wish,” answered the little rabbit, and then these two little winter birds stuffed their pockets full of dried berries to take home, and when they could find no more they flew out on the Sunny Meadow where the fluffy grass stalks stood out above the snow, and picked off the little grass seeds, and after that they flew away. So the little rabbit hopped along and by and by, after a while, he came to the old chestnut tree where Chippy Chipmunk lived in the summer time in a hole under the spreading roots. But Chippy was nowhere to be seen. Oh, my, no. All during the fall he had been busy storing away nuts and grain in his little storeroom where he would be warm and safe from Mr. North Wind, and have something to eat till Miss Spring came with the whispering breezes.

“Oh, dear, I’m very lonely, My friends are all asleep. In hollow trees or burrows warm Safe from the snowflakes and the storm, I cannot even hear them creep, For they are snuggled up asleep,”

sighed the little rabbit as he hopped into the next story.

THE BUNNYSNOWBILE

Well, just as Little Jack Rabbit hopped into this story, Uncle John Hare, who was all alone in his little white house, gave a lonely sigh, and, as soon as he had finished breakfast, he hopped out over the snow to his garage to get his Bunnysnowbile. Dear me! I forgot to mention that he had fastened on runners in place of the four wheels and now had a wonderful autosleighbile or something just as good as a bobsled going down hills.

It didn’t take him long to find Little Jack Rabbit and very soon they were gliding along as nicely as you please. The Bunnysnowbile behaved very well. You see, it was such a short time after Xmas that it hadn’t grown tired of looking at the Xmas presents, like a good many little girls and boys I know, and so it slid along over the snow and didn’t try to climb up any telegraph poles, and this made Uncle John Hare feel very pleasant, so he began to sing:

“The glad New Year has come and so We’ll try until next year To be as good as we can be And help our friends to cheer.”

But, oh, dear me! Just then, all of a sudden, just like that, out popped Mr. Wicked Wolf I’ve so often told you about. And oh, dear me! again. Didn’t he look fierce? His collar was turned up and his mouth was wide open, and his long, white teeth looked so cruel that Uncle John Hare shut his eyes, and then, I hate to tell it, the Bunnysnowbile ran right into a big tree and turned over three times and a half, and it might have turned-over once more if it hadn’t landed right up against an old hollow stump.

Which you’ll soon see was mighty lucky for the two little rabbits. For when Mr. Wicked Wolf saw them sprawling over the snow he jumped as quick as a wink and maybe he would have caught dear, kind Uncle John Hare if that old gentleman rabbit hadn’t hopped inside that stump.

And before he was inside Little Jack Rabbit was, too, so that all Mr. Wicked Wolf could do was to sit outside and wait for them to come out. But they didn’t. No, sireemam, and no, sireemister. They knew better than that, and so would I if I didn’t have a gun and a pistol and maybe a big long knife.

“Well, I can sit here as long as you can,” said that dreadful wolf, and he licked his lips with his long red tongue and grinned, oh, a dreadful kind of a grin.

“Very well, then,” replied Uncle John Hare. “If you want to sit in the cold snow, do so,” and then the old gentleman rabbit took off his old wedding stovepipe hat and blocked up the hole in the hollow stump so that the wolf couldn’t see what was going on inside, you know. And then the old gentleman rabbit looked around to see if there was any way to get out.

Well, by and by, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit found a small hole in the back of the stump, and taking his pickaxe out of his knapsack, set to work to dig a hole big enough to squeeze through, into the next story.

THE OLD WEDDING STOVEPIPE HAT

You remember where we left off in the last story, I hope. But in case you don’t, I’ll tell you. Little Jack Rabbit and dear, kind Uncle John Hare were hiding in a hollow stump and Mr. Wicked Wolf was sitting outside waiting to eat them up. But he won’t if I can help it. No, sireebus! Not if I have to call up the Policeman Dog to help these two little rabbits.

Well, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit made a hole in the back of the stump through which he and the old gentleman rabbit could just squeeze.

But before they did, the little rabbit put his pickaxe back in his knapsack, because he might have to use it some time again, and one doesn’t find pickaxes lying around loose, let me tell you.

Not in these days when iron costs almost as much as sugar and sugar costs more than diamonds, and diamonds--well, I don’t know what they cost, for I never wear any.

“Oh, dear! I hate to leave my old wedding stovepipe hat in that hole,” said dear, kind Uncle John Hare, which you remember he had stuffed up with his old silk hat to keep Mr. Wicked Wolf from looking in.

“We’ll make a snowball and put it there instead,” said Little Jack Rabbit, and when that was done, they both hopped quietly out of the back door. But, oh, dear me. After they were once out, they were afraid to go any further, for Mr. Wicked Wolf would surely see them.

So they hopped inside and closed up the back hole with the old wedding stovepipe hat, and then they didn’t know what to do. And neither do I, so I hope somebody will help those two poor little rabbits.

Well, after a while, along came Danny Fox. So Mr. Wicked Wolf said to him: “You go around to the back of the stump and see if you can find out anything, and I’ll stay here.”

Then Danny Fox crept around and as soon as he saw Uncle John Hare’s old wedding stovepipe hat in the hole he knew who was inside. You bet he did, even if he hadn’t smelt rabbit or seen little rabbit footprints in the snow.

And then, pretty soon, Mr. Wicked Wolf pushed in the snowball and then he pushed his head inside. But when he tried to pull it out, his head, you know, not the snowball, he couldn’t. No, sireemam.

His head was stuck fast. But it isn’t very pleasant to have a big wolf’s head inside a hollow stump when there’s hardly room enough for you, let me say, and of course the two little rabbits were almost scared to death.

And when Danny Fox saw what was the matter, he laughed so hard that he rolled over and over on the snow and the first thing he knew he rolled right down the hill.

Quick as a minute Uncle John Hare put on his hat and he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped away as fast as they could, and even faster, and pretty soon they came to the Old Bramble Patch, where Lady Love, the little bunny’s mother, stood waiting for them.

THE POLICEMAN DOG

Now, I hated to end my last story without telling you what happened to the Bunnysnowbile which the little rabbits left upside down beside the old hollow stump where Mr. Wicked Wolf was caught fast, you remember.

But you see I didn’t have room, and where one doesn’t have room one must leave a lot of things to the im-ag-in-ation, which means “make-believe,” you know.

Well, at about 14 o’clock that very night Uncle John Hare heard the big bell on the Bunnysnowbile ringing like everything. So he pushed up the window and stuck out his head, and asked:

“Is that my dear old snowbile?”

“It certainly is,” said a voice, and then the lamps on the Bunnysnowbile grew so bright that the old gentleman rabbit could see who was sitting on the seat. And who do you think it was?

You can have three guesses and another one if you guess right. It was the Policeman Dog. Yes, sir! There he sat as fine as you please, with his club on his lap and his big silver badge on his coat.

“It’s very kind of you to bring back my Bunnysnowbile,” said Uncle John Hare, and then he pulled his head in and went down stairs and showed the Policeman Dog how to put the snow car into the stable without waking up the Weathercock, who wasn’t asleep, anyway, but just minded his own business like a well-behaved iron rooster.

And then Lady Love opened the kitchen door and asked the Policeman Dog to come in and have a hot cup of carrot tea, and after a while he said good-by and went home to his wife and seventeen children.

By and by the little rabbit said to his kind Uncle: “Let’s go out on the Sunny Meadow and dance in the moonlight.”

But the old gentleman rabbit said no. He had a slight touch of rheumatism in his left hind toe and wasn’t going to take any chances. No, sireemam.

He wasn’t going to have plumbago, ammonia or anything else just for the sake of dancing, and I don’t blame him either.

So everybody went to bed, and when Mr. Merry Sun woke up the next morning he had a hard time waking up Mr. John Hare, for the old gentleman rabbit was so sound asleep that if Lady Love hadn’t rung the breakfast bell right over his head he might have slept on until to-morrow’s story.

Well, after breakfast, as Little Jack Rabbit looked over the paper, what do you suppose he saw? Why, a notice that Mr. Wicked Wolf had been found with his head caught in an old hollow stump and that Old Man Weasel had gone home to get his axe.

But when he had come back, Mr. Wicked Wolf had already pulled the stump right out of the ground and had gone home with it on his head and it had taken his wife two hours and eighty-five minutes to get it off.

“Gracious me!” exclaimed Lady Love. “Did you ever hear of such a thing!” And then she opened the kitchen door and peeked out. But she closed it mighty quickly, for she didn’t wish Uncle John Hare to catch cold in his left hind toe.

THE OLD HOLLOW STUMP

Oh, dear me, how Mr. North Wind did blow! He rocked Mrs. Oriole’s nest that hung from the willow tree by the Old Duck Pond back and forth till Little Jack Rabbit thought it would come off and drop to the ground. But it didn’t, for Mrs. Oriole knew how to knit, let me tell you, and her stocking-like nest clung to the old willow tree like a thrift stamp when you try to get it off to buy something you forgot to get before the war began!

“Well, I guess I’ll let it alone,” said Mr. North Wind; “maybe Mrs. Oriole will want to use it next spring. Perhaps she used up all her wool making sweaters for the boys over there.”

“When do you go back north?” asked the little rabbit, for he was thinking of the dear old summer time, when Granddaddy Bullfrog sat on his log and caught flies and the darning-needles skimmed over the water.

“Oh, pretty soon, not so very long,” said Mr. North Wind. “When Miss Spring and her little Balmy Breezes come tripping over the Sunny Meadow, I’ll say good-by!” And then he whistled:

“I’m a husky old wind, I am, I could blow the shell off a clam, I shake the shutters and bang the doors, And curl the nails on the pussy cat’s paws.”

And then that boisterous old wind went into the Shady Forest and broke a dead limb off the old chestnut tree and nearly hit Squirrel Nutcracker, who had come out of his hole for a few minutes to stretch his legs.

Well, after that, the little rabbit hopped along, clipperty-lipperty, and by and by he saw Mr. Wicked Wolf. Oh, dear me. Wasn’t that dreadful, for who wants to meet a wolf even if his first name isn’t wicked?

“Hello, little bunny. I haven’t seen you since the last time.”

“I wish you still had your head in the Hollow Stump,” shivered Little Jack Rabbit, and then he wiggled his little pink nose so fast that Mr. Wicked Wolf had to shut his eyes for fear he’d get dizzy.

“Stop that,” he shouted. “My head is going around and around and I can’t keep my feet in one place on the ground.”

“I can’t either,” said the little rabbit, “I’m so frightened.” And before that dreadful wolf opened his eyes, Little Jack Rabbit hopped into an old hollow stump.

Well, pretty soon, Mr. Wicked Wolf opened one eye, just a little bit, you know, and then he opened the other eye a little bit, but he couldn’t see the little rabbit anywhere, so he opened both his eyes, blink, blink, just like that.

“Where are you?” he asked, and he jumped over to the hollow stump, following the little rabbit’s footprints in the snow, you see. But when he looked down into the hollow stump there wasn’t any little white shivering bunny there. No, Sireemam and No, Sireebus and No, Siree, Mr. Prohibition Man.

MR. MINER MOLE

Now, I suppose you’ve been wondering what had become of Little Jack Rabbit after hopping into the old hollow stump to get away from Mr. Wicked Wolf. Well, you haven’t wondered nearly as much as that old wicked wolf has, let me tell you. Why, he was so puzzled that he sat down and took an Almanac out of his pocket and read it all through, but even then he didn’t know anything.

“Goodness me, where has that little bunny gone?” he said, and then he jumped right into the old hollow stump, head first, kerplump, just like that. Down, down he went, until all of a sudden he landed somewhere he didn’t just know where.

When, all of a sudden again, a voice said:

“You robber bold, how can you dare To jump down here from way up there?”

“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Wicked Wolf, and he fixed his cravat, which was all loose and not tied in a nice little knot, “I’m sorry to trouble you. But the fact is I was anxious about a little rabbit who jumped in here a moment ago. Have you seen him? I can’t see you, but maybe you saw him.”

“I’ll let you see me pretty soon,” said the voice, and then Mr. Wicked Wolf began to get afraid. At first, you see, he wasn’t scared a bit, but when he heard the voice say that, he began to tremble and wabble, and his long bushy tail to droop on the ground.

“Let me out; please do,” he said. “I’ll never trouble you again.”