Part 14

At once the little rabbit followed the pretty robin’s directions and in less time than I can take to tell it, the safe door flew open and out rolled a million carrot cents, each one counting out loud as it touched the floor! “One, Two, Three,” and so on, right up to a million! Wasn’t that wonderful? Well, I just guess it was. I never had a Flying Eagle Cent that could count more than one!

“Get a bag,” whispered Uncle John Hare, and filling it with carrot cents that good lady duck housekeeper opened the kitchen door, and handed it to an ugly little dwarf.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, touching his red peaked hat with a crooked forefinger. Then slinging the bag over his shoulder, he trudged around the house and through the little gateway in the white picket fence to the Fairy Forest that lay some two thousand hops to the North of Turnip City.

“Has he gone?” asked Uncle John Hare, dusting off his knees and pulling down his pink waistcoat. “Are you sure he’s gone?”

“Yes, yes,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, with a happy quack. “He’s gone, thank goodness! I hope he’ll not come back for many a year.”

“Never can tell,” mused the old gentleman rabbit. “The Ragged Rabbit Giant will return more than a million carrot cents in less time than that.”

“Trust the fairies,” cautioned Bobbie Redvest. “They have asked the giant to lend them money,” and away fluttered the little bird to the old apple tree.

But even after Bobbie Redvest had cautioned Little Jack Rabbit that curious little bunny boy wanted to hop over to the Fairy Forest.

“No, sireebus!” cried Uncle John Hare. “You do what that little robin says and you’ll not go far wrong.”

“All right, Uncle John,” answered the little bunny boy cheerfully, for he was a good little rabbit and had learned to obey his elders without sulking, which is the better way, after all. For when we do a thing with a smile it’s so much easier. I wonder why, but maybe you know, little reader. If not, Mother will tell you, as sure as lollypops come on sticks and ice cream in cones.

Well, the little bunny boy rabbit had a lovely visit and when it came time for him to take the Stagecoach home he kissed Uncle John Hare good-by, nor did he forget Mrs. Daisy Duck. “Good-by, good-by!” he shouted from his seat beside the Old Dog Driver.

“Come again soon,” cried the old gentleman hare, waving his stovepipe hat. “Give my love to Mother.”

Away rattled the Billy Goat Stage Coach across Lettuce Square, down Potato Street and out on Radish Road that led to Rabbitville, fifteen thousand five hundred hops to the south.

By and by the Old Dog Driver took his pipe out of his mouth and shouted, “Carrot City!” Then pulling in his team of billy goats, waited for an old gander to alight. It took the old feathered gentleman quite a while to flop down the two little steps at the back of the stage, but at last he was safely on the ground. Then as soon as a fat lady pig, wearing a purple sunbonnet and black mitts, had seated herself, the Old Dog Driver clicked his teeth with his tongue and said “Gid-ap!”

Away bounded the billy goat team, shaking their horns, which were tipped with little gold thimbles, and throwing out their hoofs, shod with bright steel shoes. By and by they came to Lettucemere, a pretty village by the Bubbling Brook. Here the Lady Pig got out and in jumped a big mooly cow. Mrs. O’Mooly was her name. She wore a big yellow hat and a pink shirt waist and on her two hind feet a pair of white kid boots. My, but she was a stylish looking lady cow.

“Gid-ap!” clicked the Old Dog Driver, and away went the nimble little billy goats until by and by, after a while, and a bump and a smile, they came to the Old Bramble Patch. There at the gate stood Lady Love, the little rabbit’s pretty mother. Her simple gingham dress with white lace collar seemed a beautiful gown to the little rabbit, and her eyes two stars as she folded him to her breast and whispered, “Home again to Mother.”

_Dear Little Boys and Girls:_

_Are you lonely because you and I have reached the end of the story? Come closer. I’ve a secret to whisper. Already I have begun to write “Little Jack Rabbit’s Big Red Book.” When it is finished won’t we have a happy time reading it?_

_Your loving_

_Uncle Dave._

_Old Bramble Patch, Rabbitville, Happy Days, 1924._

Transcriber’s Notes

pg 189 Changed: master is kind and let’s to: master is kind and lets