Part 3

“Very well, then, cross your heart and repeat after me:

“I never break my promise, For fear I’ll break my heart, So I’ll give you my honest word, And then we’ll kindly part,”

said the voice, and when Mr. Wicked Wolf had done that, the voice said:

“Now turn to your right and you’ll see a little ladder.” And sure enough there was a little ladder running right up the inside of the old hollow stump. And goodness me! As soon as Mr. Wicked Wolf saw the ladder he went up it faster than a bricklayer with a hod of bricks on his back, and in less time than I can tell you, he was out on the Sunny Meadow and off for his home in the Shady Forest, for he lived, you remember, not so very far from the Big Brown Bear’s cave.

And now I suppose you are still wondering where little Jack Rabbit was, but I had to get rid of that dreadful wolf first before I could tell you. Well, as soon as Mr. Wicked Wolf was out of the stump, which was very dark inside, you know, somebody turned on an electric light way down at the bottom. And who do you suppose it was? Why, Mr. Miner Mole. It was he who had been talking to Mr. Wicked Wolf all the time, and now on the next page you shall hear about Little Jack Rabbit.

PRECIOUS STONES

Well, as soon as Mr. Miner Mole turned on the electric light in his cap, he said:

“Little Jack Rabbit, you can come out now, for Mr. Wicked Wolf has gone.”

At once the little bunny hopped out of a door, and now you know where he had been hiding. I declare, it has taken me almost three stories to tell you, but I’ve been busy explaining what Mr. Wolf did and after that what Mr. Miner Mole said.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t taken care of me,” said Little Jack Rabbit.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” said the kind mole. “I’m glad you came down into my mine. I’ve had luck lately. I’ll give you a couple of diamonds and three rubies. You can make your kind Uncle John Hare a present of one or three, if you wish.”

And then that generous mole gave these beautiful precious stones to the little bunny, and showed him how to climb the ladder.

“I wish I had a little cap like yours with an electric candle in it,” said the rabbit. “I’d wear it at night and have lots of fun.” But the mole wouldn’t give him his lamp. I guess he thought more of it than he did of his diamonds and rubies.

Well, pretty soon, the little bunny said good-by and climbed up the ladder, and when he got to the top he just peeped over the rim of the old hollow stump, for he thought perhaps Mr. Wicked Wolf might be hanging around, but he wasn’t, so he hopped away, clipperty-clipperty, and by and by he thought of something.

“Gracious me! I almost forgot that I had two diamonds and three rubies.” So he opened his knapsack to make sure. And now I suppose you are saying to yourself, “That poor dear little rabbit has gone and lost his precious stones!” But he hadn’t. There they were as safe as safe could be in his knapsack, right alongside of a piece of apple pie and a lollypop!

“I might as well eat my lunch now,” he thought, so he sat down, and pretty soon the apple pie was gone and the lollypop, too. And then, all of a sudden, a little bird began to sing. It was Charlie Chickadee but the little rabbit didn’t know it at first:

“A nice little rabbit went down in a hole To see an old miner whose name was Mole, Who wore a cap with a ’lectric light. For his mine was dark as a closet at night. Now why did that rabbit go down in that hole To see the old miner, Mr. Mole?”

And then Charlie Chickadee flew down to the ground and picked up some apple pie crumbs which the little rabbit had dropped when he bit off the next to the last piece of crust.

“I’ll give you three guesses,” said the little bunny. And in the next story you shall hear whether Charlie Chickadee guessed right the first or the third time.

THREE GUESSES

Now, let me see. Oh, yes, I remember now where we left off. It was just when Little Jack Rabbit gave Charlie Chickadee three guesses. Yes, sir, that’s where we left off. The little chickadee had only three guesses to find out why Little Jack Rabbit had gone down the Hollow Tree Stump Mine to see the old miner, Mr. Mole.

“Are you ready?” asked the little bunny.

“Yes,” answered the little chickadee, “you went to get some gold!”

“No, I didn’t,” answered the little rabbit.

“Then you went to get some silver.”

“No, I didn’t,” replied the little bunny.

“Oh, dear me,” said Charlie Chickadee. “I’ve only one guess left, and I’m sure Mr. Mole hasn’t got a coal mine,” and then the little bird cocked his head on one side and looked out of the corner of his left eye to see if he had guessed it a little bit. But Little Jack Rabbit didn’t pay any attention--he just took out the two big diamonds and the three immense big rubies and looked at them carefully. At once Charlie Chickadee hopped up and down, and fluttered his wings, and shouted, “I know, I know! Ha, ha ha, ha! you went to get diamonds and rubies!”

“No, I didn’t,” said Little Jack Rabbit, and he strapped up his knapsack and started off for Uncle John Hare’s house, for he wanted to give his kind Uncle a ruby, you know, and maybe a diamond.

“Goodness me, why did you go, then?” asked Charlie Chickadee. “Everybody around here knows how dangerous that Hollow Tree Stump Mine is.”

“Because Mr. Wicked Wolf was so close to me I had nowhere to go,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, and then he told the little bird all that had happened. “And now I’m off to see Uncle John Hare.” And the little bunny shouldered his knapsack.

Well, after a while he came to Carrot Square in Turnip City, U. S. A., so he went along for maybe three hundred and ninety-five and a half hops till he came to Cabbage Avenue, where on the corner stood a little white house.

“Oh, here I am, how glad I am,” sang the little rabbit, and just then Uncle John himself opened the front door, and when he saw his little nephew he began to sing:

“Hello, hello, how glad I am, I’m as happy as a clam At hightide to see you now, So come in and tell me how All the folks are getting on And if you love your Uncle John.”

“Wait till I show you what I’ve got for you.” And then the little bunny opened his knapsack.

“Well, I guess you love your old Uncle,” said Mr. John Hare, as he looked at the precious stones. “To-day’s my birthday. How did you remember?”

For answer the little bunny just hugged his nice old uncle.

POOR LADY LOVE

Parson Crow sat on his tree, Early one spring morning; And his voice was hoarse as he said, “Caw, caw.” And he was sleepily yawning.

And just as Lady Love passed by that wise old crow opened his little Wisdom Book and began to read:

“A mossy stone will never roll, But always stays in the same old hole.”

Then he closed his little Wisdom Book and stroked his beak with his black wings.

“Well, my boy’s back from the army,” said Lady Love proudly, and she took out of her pocket a little flag and waved it up and down. And then she took out of another pocket a little silver Liberty Bell and rang it three times, and then she hopped away to the postoffice, for she wanted to send a letter to Aunt Columbia about her little son’s discharge.

Well, when she reached the postoffice, the postmistress, the old maid grasshopper I told you about some million stories ago, who had gone to Palm Beach for the winter, looked out of her little stamp window and said,

“Good morning, Lady Love. What can I do for you? Now here’s a stamp already damp, and it’s red, white and blue.”

“What a pretty little stamp,” said Lady Love, as she put it on the envelope before dropping her letter in the little crack in the wall.

And then she went down to the Three-in-one-cent Store to buy a tea kettle. But just as she started away for the Old Bramble Patch, Mr. Wicked Wolf jumped out from behind a tree. And, oh, dear me! If Lady Love hadn’t opened her green silk parasol, and held it in front of her, that wicked old wolf would have eaten the carrot flowers right off that little lady rabbit’s bonnet.

“Fold up your parasol,” said Mr. Wicked Wolf, “or I’ll tear it into fourteen different pieces.” And, of course, this frightened Lady Love nearly to death, for she was very fond of her green silk parasol, let me tell you.

“If you do,” said she, “I’ll tell the Bunnyville Regiment and they’ll hang you.” And when Mr. Wicked Wolf heard that, he ran away as fast as he could.

“Dearie me,” said poor frightened Lady Love, “times are dreadful.” And she hurried home as fast as she could hop to put the new tea kettle on to boil for supper.

And if the tea caddy doesn’t put golf balls in the new tea pot when Lady Love isn’t looking, I’ll tell you in the next story about Timmy Meadowmouse.

MR. MERRY SUN

Little Timmy Meadowmouse, Has a round ball for a house. It’s made of nicely woven grass, But it hasn’t a window pane of glass.

“Hello,” he said, as Little Jack Rabbit stopped to look at a daisy. “How are you this lovely day?”

“I’m going down to the Old Duck Pond to ask Granddaddy Bullfrog something,” answered the little rabbit.

“What are you going to ask him?” inquired Timmy Meadowmouse.

“Never mind,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, “maybe I’ll tell you some day,” and away he hopped, and by and by, pretty soon, not so very long, he came to the Old Duck Pond. And there, sure enough, was Granddaddy Bullfrog sitting on his log, winking and blinking in the sun.

“Good-morning, Granddaddy Bullfrog,” said Little Jack Rabbit, “have you had your breakfast?”

“Had my breakfast?” almost shouted the old gentleman frog. “Why, it’s almost time for lunch. I guess you’ve forgotten to set your watch ahead.”

“Oh, dear me,” said the little rabbit, “I have.” So he pulled out his gold watch and chain, the one that dear Uncle John Hare had given him, oh, ’umpty ’leven stories ago, you remember, and then he set it on an hour fast, and after that he looked up at the sky and laughed.

“Now don’t get mad, Mr. Merry Sun!”

“Well, I won’t get mad,” said the jolly old fellow, “but I’ll tell you one thing, I shan’t get up any earlier myself. You people can do what you wish, but I’ve been on time since the world began and I don’t propose to be hurried at my age.” And then he rolled behind a cloud just to show that he meant what he said.

“Do you think he’s angry?” asked the little rabbit.

“Not a bit,” answered Granddaddy Bullfrog. “What does he care if the factory whistle blows an hour earlier. He doesn’t have to hurry. He gets up in the purple east every day at the same time.”

“No, he doesn’t,” said a voice, and there stood Professor Jim Crow with his little Wisdom Book.

“Let me read you something,” and then the wise old bird turned to page 23 and began:

“The sun in the winter time rises late, Sometimes it’s sixty minutes to eight; But when the summer time comes once more, He often gets up at half-past four.”

And, oh, dear me! This made Granddaddy dreadfully angry.

“You don’t understand what I mean,” he said, and in the next story you shall hear what the old gentleman frog really meant to say.

BOBBIE REDVEST

Now, let me see where we left off in the last story. Oh, yes; now I remember. Professor Jim Crow had just corrected Granddaddy Bullfrog, who was dreadful angry to think that he had made a mistake in saying the sun got up every morning at the same time. And, just as he was going to say something more, a little tadpole swam up to the log and called out:

“Granddaddy Bullfrog, please take care, The Miller’s Boy is just over there. He’ll throw a stone at you, I know, If you don’t quickly dive below.”

Well, sir, Granddaddy Bullfrog gave one look and then, kerplunk! he dived into the water. And Professor Jim Crow flew away, and so did Little Jack Rabbit--I mean hopped, for rabbits don’t fly--and pretty soon he got into a dreadful scrape. Oh, dear me! I just hate to tell you about it, but I must, for everything the little bunny does I write down, even if I don’t see him do it. And do you know how I learn so much about him? I’ll tell you. It’s because every morning Bobbie Redvest comes to my window and says:

“Wake up, wake up, you lazy man! And listen to my song. I saw your little rabbit friend Play tag the whole day long.”

And then I go to the window and ask him in, and give him some cracker crumbs. And as soon as he has had his breakfast he tells me what to write about. And if he didn’t there would be many days I wouldn’t know what Little Jack Rabbit is doing, for I can’t run after him in the Shady Forest all the time.

And, now I’m going to tell you about the scrape this dear little rabbit got into. Oh, dear me again! I hope he’ll get out of it all right! I told Bobbie Redvest to be around to-morrow bright and early to let me know.

Well, just as Little Jack Rabbit hopped away from the Old Duck Pond he saw the tip of Old Man Weasel’s nose from behind a tree, and the tip of Danny Fox’s bushy tail behind a rock, and the left ear of Mr. Wicked Wolf from behind a bush. Wasn’t that too dreadful for anything? Here were these three enemies of the little rabbit just waiting to catch him.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” said the poor little bunny, “I’m a goner now. I know, I know it!” But he didn’t give up hope. Oh, my, no! He just said that to himself, you see. Not to anybody else. And just then he heard Bobbie Redvest sing very softly:

“Under the bush, by your left hind toe, Is a little trap door that leads below. Jump back three feet as quick as you can. And you will be safe, little bunny man!”

THREE OLD RASCALS

Don’t stop to ask the reason why, Nor say “Just a minute!” But do the thing you’re told to do For all that there is in it!

Well, you remember what little Bobbie Redvest told the little rabbit to do in the last story--to jump back three feet and hide under the trap door beneath the bush.

Well, sir, in less time than I can take to tell it, he was under the door and hopping down a little stairway. But he didn’t forget to bolt the door, and it’s mighty lucky he did, for the next minute Old Man Weasel, Mr. Wicked Wolf and Danny Fox ran out from behind the trees and tried to lift up the trap door.

“I’ll dig a hole all around it,” said Danny Fox, when they found they couldn’t get in. So he set to work, and so did Old Man Weasel, while Mr. Wicked Wolf sat down and took out his pipe and smoked. And whenever Danny Fox stopped to wipe the perspiration from his face Mr. Wicked Wolf would say, “Hurry up! The little rabbit will be in China before you get started!”

And whenever Old Man Weasel stopped to wipe a little piece of dirt out of his eye, Mr. Wicked Wolf would say:

“Hurry up, Old Man Weasel. Danny Fox will get in first!”

Well, by and by, after a while, Danny Fox came to the flight of stairs, and maybe a minute or two later, Old Man Weasel got his head inside the hallway, but there wasn’t room for both of them at the same time.

“Get out of here,” said Danny Fox, “I saw the little rabbit first.”

“I won’t!” shouted Old Man Weasel. “I saw him before you did!” And then they started to talk and talk, till at last Mr. Wicked Wolf put his pipe back in his pocket and said:

“You are both wrong. I saw him first.” And he took hold of Danny Fox by the tail and dragged him out, and Old Man Weasel, too.

“You two talkers stay here while I go after the little rabbit,” said Mr. Wicked Wolf, and he ran down the stairs as fast as he could. But, goodness me! it was dark. And every once in a while he’d knock his head against something, but he kept on just the same, and pretty soon he saw a little light ahead.

And then, all of a sudden, a voice said:

“What are you doing down here under ground, You wicked old wolf from the hill, You haven’t got brains to go in when it rains If you wake up a man when he’s ill.”

“I don’t know who you are and I didn’t know you were ill,” answered Mr. Wicked Wolf, looking all around to see who was talking. “Who are you, anyway?”

A PRISONER

Well, before Mr. Wicked Wolf found out who was talking to him as I meant to tell you in the last story, he saw the tip of Little Jack Rabbit’s tail. So he didn’t stop to find out, but ran down the dark tunnel as fast as he could.

“Oh, dear me,” said the little rabbit to himself, “I thought Mr. Mole would keep him for a few minutes till I got away.” And then the little rabbit hopped along faster than ever, and I guess Mr. Wicked Wolf would have caught him only the tunnel was so low and so narrow that Mr. Wicked Wolf had to be very careful not to bump his head off.

Well, pretty soon, the little rabbit came to a door, and when he opened it, he found himself in the Shady Forest. And just then who should come by but the Big Brown Bear.

“Oh, help me, quick!” said Little Jack Rabbit.

“How?” asked the big bear.

“Roll that rock against this door,” begged the little rabbit. “Mr. Wicked Wolf is after me.”

Then the Big Brown Bear put his shoulder against the rock and rolled it up against the door, and then he sat down and said: “Whew! That was a job!” And I guess it was, for he was all out of breath, for the rock was as large as himself and maybe bigger.

“Let me out! Let me out!” shouted Mr. Wicked Wolf through the keyhole, for he couldn’t even open the door a tiny crack because the bear had rolled the stone up against it as tight as could be.

“You stay in there till the 4th of July, Away from the sun and the bright blue sky; And maybe by then you will have grown wise Enough to wear spectacles over your eyes,”

shouted the Big Brown Bear as he and the little rabbit hopped away. Dear me! Maybe the bear didn’t hop, but I was so excited for fear Little Jack Rabbit wouldn’t get away that my typewriter picked out the wrong word.

“Gracious me!” said the little rabbit, after a while, and maybe a mile. “I guess I’ll telephone to Uncle John Hare and tell him what a narrow escape I’ve just had!” So he hopped in the Hollow Tree Telephone booth and called up “One, two, three, Ring Happy Bell, Rabbitville, U. S. A.” And pretty soon he heard Uncle John Hare say, “Hello, who is it?”

“It’s me, Little Jack Rabbit,” answered the little bunny. And then he told the dear old gentleman rabbit what had happened and Uncle John Hare got so excited that he dropped the receiver on his left hind toe--the one that had the rheumatism in it, you remember--and this made him say something which I won’t repeat.

“Come over right away,” he said, after rubbing his toe three times and a half.

THE RABBITVILLE TROLLEY

Now, I think Little Jack Rabbit would have made Uncle John Hare a call if all of a sudden he hadn’t stopped to listen to Bobbie Redvest sing:

“Professor Jim Crow in his little Wisdom Book Tells how to catch the fishes with a pin hook. So you, Simple Simon, with your mother’s pail, Listen to Professor Crow if you’d catch a whale.”

Perhaps I’ve made a mistake, or Professor Jim Crow has, for this is not Mother Goose Land.

“Haven’t you made a mistake?” asked Little Jack Rabbit as the old crow started to read a lesson on fishing.

“Well, I declare,” he answered. “Maybe I’m getting old. I’ve turned to the wrong place.” And then he opened the book at page 23 and read:

“Dingle, dingle, trolley car, The Motorman is my papa, And while he shows the greatest care My mother rings up every fare.”

“Ha, ha,” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “The Rabbitville trolley cars have lady bunny conductors,” and off he hopped to take a ride, for he had five carrot cents in his knapsack.

Well, just as he reached Rabbitville a trolley car came by, so he held up his striped candy cane and the motorman put on the brakes, and then the little rabbit hopped on board and the lady bunny conductor rang the bell three times and a half and away they went to Bunnybridge, just over Clover River.

“Hello!” said a voice as the little rabbit sat down, and there in the middle of the car sat Squirrel Nutcracker. He was reading the Chestnut Times and laughing over Miss Hazel Nut’s jokes.

“Come over and sit by me,” said Old Squire Nutcracker. “Here’s something about your Uncle.” And then he started to read:

“Mr. John Hare has just repainted his house on the corner of Carrot Avenue and Cabbage Square. He says he must have his house nice and white so he can see it late at night.”

And then Squirrel Nutcracker laughed some more, and he laughed so hard that a hickory nut rolled out of his coat pocket and fell on the lady conductor’s little toe and made her dreadfully angry, for she thought Little Jack Rabbit had shot the nut out of his little popgun, you know.

And just then the trolley bell began to ring like everything. Maybe there was some one on the track.

FARMER DADDY LONGLEGS

Now, let me see where we left off in the last story. Oh, yes, I remember now. It was just as the trolley car bell rang on the way to Bunnybridge.

“What’s the matter?” asked Squirrel Nutcracker, for the car stopped so suddenly that his hat came off. And then they heard the motorman, who was a billy goat, say:

“Why don’t you get out of the way With your cracky old wagon of hay, Why don’t you look back When you’re on the track, And not keep me waiting all day.”

And who do you suppose was driving the load of hay? Why, it was Old Farmer Daddy Longlegs. He was sitting on top and saying giddap to a pair of little field mice.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Motorman,” answered Farmer Daddy Longlegs. “Just wait a minute and I’ll get off the track.”

And then he turned the little mice to the right, and when the trolley car went by it pulled off some of the hay and it fell into the open window and covered Mrs. Duck’s new bonnet, with the yellow roses on it.

“I’ll make a wish, for every time you pass a load of hay you must make a wish, you know, and if you don’t tell anybody it will surely come true,” she said with a quack.

Well, by and by, after a while, they came to Clover River, and as the trolley car couldn’t swim it went over the bridge, and in less than five hundred short seconds it stopped in Bunnybridge, on the corner of Cookey Street and Cocoanut Avenue.

“Last stop. All out,” shouted the billy goat conductor, so all the passengers left by the front door, for there was a big sign in the car which said:

“Have your nickel ready When you board the car, Get off at the front door, No matter where you are.”

But, oh, dear me. Just as Little Jack Rabbit hopped to the sidewalk a deep, growly voice said:

“What are you doing over here, So far from the Bramble Patch? If I were hungry I’d eat you up As quick as I’d strike a match.”

“Oh, please don’t,” cried the little rabbit. “Please, Mr. Wicked Wolf, let me go just this once.” And unless Mr. Wicked Wolf gets dreadfully hungry all of a sudden, you shall hear what happened after that.

Mr. Wolf carries a big gunny sack Over his shoulder and down his back. Whenever he catches a squirrel or hare, He drops him into his sack with care, And then he says with a terrible grin, “I’ll eat you up before you get thin!”

ACORN COTTAGE

Mr. Wicked Wolf has a dreadful grin; His teeth are bright and shiny like a piece of tin; And wouldn’t you be frightened if he should say to you; “I’ll eat you up before you count one billion twenty-two”?

Well, that’s what Mr. Wicked Wolf said just as I finished the story before this, and I would have added a P. S. and told you, only I was afraid you’d stay awake all night wondering how the little rabbit would ever get away. But never mind. I won’t let that dreadful wolf hurt him, not if I have to get a gun and go after him myself.

Well, the little rabbit began to count just as fast as he could, and just as he reached nine thousand nine hundred and maybe a little more the Yellow Dog Tramp came by and gave a loud bark:

“Don’t hurt my bunny friend; Get out of here, I say. It’s safer far for you to be A million miles away.”