Part 2

And, hopping around the barn, that old robber bird peeked in through every crack. By and by he came to quite a large knothole. Oh, dear me, yes! It was big enough for his head, and then it seemed almost large enough for his body.

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed anxious Uncle Lucky, “I’m afraid that old bird will squeeze in.”

“Wait a minute, hold your breath, Don’t you sneeze or titter, I’ll show that dreadful robber bird That I’m a home run hitter,”

whispered the Old Red Rooster, and the next minute he had crept over on his tiptoes to the tool closet for the big heavy wooden mallet.

Hungry Hawk didn’t notice the Old Red Rooster. No, siree, ma’am! He was too busy pushing and shoving, and shoving and pushing. He surely thought that pretty soon he’d be in the barn, feasting on two nice rabbits and maybe a fat rooster.

How he did squirm and twist and twist and squirm! Dear me! I hope he doesn’t get both his wings through the knothole before the Old Red Rooster can swing the big wooden mallet. Because, if once inside, Hungry Hawk will put up a dreadful fight and maybe get the best of the two little rabbits and the Old Red Rooster.

Dear me! again. I wish I could tell the Kind Policeman Dog over the wireless what is going on in the Little Red Barn. He wouldn’t wait a minute. No, sireemam! He’d come with his hickory stick and knock Hungry Hawk’s tail right off before the Old Red Rooster had time to swing the big wooden mallet.

But there’s no use wishing for things. Just get out and get them! That’s the way. So, here we go! Old Red Rooster, hurry up! And that’s just what he did.

WHACK! Down came the wooden mallet on Hungry Hawk’s head. Whew! How mad he was!

WHACK! Again the Old Red Rooster tickled the wicked hawk’s head.

“Give him another!” shouted Uncle Lucky, hiding Little Jack Rabbit behind his coat tails. “Hit him again, and three times more!”

Now, let me see. What did Hungry Hawk do after Uncle Lucky shouted to the Old Red Rooster; “Hit him again!” Well, what would you think he’d do? First, he hid his head under his wing; then he tried to squeeze back through the knothole. But he couldn’t, for his feathers turned up at the end and made him bigger than ever.

“I don’t want to break your head,” said the Old Red Rooster. “This wooden mallet is pretty hard. But if you think you’re going to eat Uncle Lucky or Little Jack Rabbit or yours truly, you’ve made a mistake.”

“You bet you have!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. “You better go home to Mrs. Hawk and lead a better life hereafter.”

“Dear me! I wish I could,” answered Hungry Hawk, “I’ve got an awful headache. The Old Red Rooster hit me three times with the wooden mallet.”

Just then who should hop into the barn but the Policeman Dog. I wonder how he found out what was going on?

“You wicked bird! I’ve a good notion to shoot you,” he shouted, pulling his gun from his hip pocket.

“Don’t shoot!” begged Hungry Hawk, his tail feathers twitching and his eyes blinking with fright. My, but he was scared. For that Policeman Dog’s gun was a warlike looking weapon, let me tell you. The handle was red and the barrel black and the bullet as yellow as a dandelion.

“I’ll take three minutes to think about it,” answered the Policeman Dog. “But what are you going to do? You can’t get out and you can’t get in, I guess you wish you were thin as a pin.”

Just think of a Policeman Dog making up poetry at a dangerous time like this. Well, I never.

“I’m worried enough to grow thin,” answered Hungry Hawk. “Besides, I’m dreadfully uncomfortable.”

“I’ve got an idea,” suddenly exclaimed wise Uncle Lucky, “I’ll knock out the board. Maybe it will split in two and free the old bird.”

“Please be careful,” begged Hungry Hawk, as the old gentleman rabbit lifted the heavy wooden mallet, “please don’t make a mistake and hit me.”

“One, two, three!” sang out Uncle Lucky, and down came the mallet, whack! against the board. The next minute Hungry Hawk found himself by the woodpile. But, dear me! The board hadn’t cracked open. No, the nails had just pulled out of the Big Red Barn.

All of a sudden the old hawk gave a tre-men-dous squirm and away he flew, with a whirr of wings, above the Sunny Meadow.

“I guess he won’t bother little rabbits for some time,” cried Uncle Lucky. But, children dear, I’m sorry to say, a little further on in the book he does something dreadful.

Oh, hawks are very crafty things, They fly about on silent wings, And if, perchance, a little rabbit Is heedless of a watchful habit, He’ll find too late some sunny morning He should have followed mother’s warning.

BUNNY TALE 3

THE LOLLYPOP TREE

“I must run up to see the Big Brown Bear,” thought Little Jack Rabbit, looking up at Mr. Merry Sun shining in the Blue Sky Country.

“I want you to hop down to the Three-in-One-Cent Store for a clothes-pin,” said Lady Love, his pretty bunny mother.

“All right, mother dear,” answered the little rabbit, tucking the napkin under his chin and helping himself to a big slice of carrot cake.

My, what a nice breakfast his bunny mother had made for him—carrot cakes with lollypop syrup, turnip tea and lettuce marmalade.

As soon as the little rabbit had brought in the kindling wood, fed the canary and polished the front door knob, he kissed his pretty bunny mother good-by and hopped down the winding path through the brambles to the Sunny Meadow.

Peeking out of his little front door stood Timmie Meadowmouse.

“Hello!” said Little Jack Rabbit, stopping before the tiny, round grass-ball house, hung on three stiff stalks of grass about six inches above the ground, “Where do you think I’m going?”

“Well, wherever you’re going,” answered the timid meadowmouse, peering anxiously out of the small round hole that serves for his front door, “you’d better look out for Danny Fox.”

“Oh, I will,” replied Little Jack Rabbit. “And I’ll bring you a lollypop, ’cause I’m going up to see the Big Brown Bear and the Lollypop Tree. Good-by,” and away hopped the little bunny, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, up the Old Cow Path in the Sunny Meadow and over the hill top until, by and by, not so very long, he came to the Shady Forest, where he paused for a moment to inquire how Mrs. Nutcracker was getting along.

“Very nicely, thank you,” replied old Squirrel Nutcracker, dropping a handful of nuts in the little rabbit’s pocket. “She’ll soon be around again.”

“I’m glad of that,” answered the kind-hearted little bunny boy, “mother sends her love,” and off he hopped up the Shady Forest Trail.

As he passed the pool in which Busy Beaver has his home, he stopped to say “Hello.”

“Hello, yourself!” shouted back the little beaver. “How are all the folks?”

“Pretty well, except dear Uncle Lucky Lefthindfoot,” answered the little bunny rabbit boy. “He has the rheumatism in his left hind toe and Dr. Quack says it will be some time before he can do a toe dance.”

“Shouldn’t wonder,” laughed the happy little beaver, giving his big broad tail a sudden flap, sending the spray all over the little rabbit boy bunny’s fur coat, “but why should Uncle Lucky want to do a toe dance, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” replied the little rabbit, wiping the water drops off his coat sleeve. “You’ve splashed me all over, Busy Beaver, yes, you have,” and away went the little rabbit, for it was nearly a mile and a whistle and a smile to Cozy Cave where the Big Brown Bear sold

Ice cream cones and lollypops, Licorice sticks and Sweet Corn Pops, Peppermints and ’Lasses Drops.

Dear me! Doesn’t that sound delicious? If only I had the time I’d leave my typewriter to run over to the Big Brown Bear. Would you come with me, little reader? I guess you would, and so would your little brother Jimmy.

Well, now where was I before I began to dream? I was on my way to Cozy Cave for a gum drop? Oh, yes, Little Jack Rabbit had stopped before I had even started, so I’ll tell you without digressing further, which means to go off sideways—what the little bunny did.

“Where you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, running along the top of the Old Rail Fence, his red striped jacket shining in the morning sun and his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“To the cozy cave of the Big Brown Bear, And the Lollypop Tree just over there.”

“Bring me a lollypop,” shouted Chippy Chipmunk as the little rabbit boy hopped up the Shady Forest Trail, in and out among the trees, where Billy Breeze whistled amid the leaves.

By and by, way, way yonder, he could just make out the comfortable figure of the Big Brown Bear sitting in front of his cozy cave, smoking a corncob pipe.

“Hello! hello!” shouted the little rabbit, waving his red-striped candy cane. “Are you there, Mr. Bear?”

“No, I’m here,” chuckled the big good-natured, furry-coated animal, “but just keep on, you’ll find me all right.”

“How’s mother?” he asked, taking the old corncob pipe from between his beautiful white pearly teeth, as the breathless little rabbit stood before him.

“She’s well, thank you,” panted the little bunny boy, looking up at the lollypops as they winked their purple-pinky eyes from the branches of the Lollypop Tree.

“Did you do your three chores for mother this morning?” enquired the Big Brown Bear, although the little bunny boy wished to goodness gracious he would stop asking questions and give him a lollypop.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes!” answered the wistful-eyed little rabbit.

“You polished the front door knob, fed the canary and brought in the kindling wood?” continued the questioning old bear.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” repeated the little bunny boy rabbit, only this time he shouted it.

“That’s a good lad,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, handing a pink lollypop to his little long-eared caller. “Have a lollypop!”

And then, would you believe it, that big bear put away his pipe and began to suck a green lollypop. Just fancy that if you can! Pretty soon he said with a smile, “Want another?”

“Have you any left?” asked the bunny boy, oh, so wist-ful-ly.

“Well, I’ll see,” answered the Big Brown Bear, rising to his feet and ambling into the cozy cave. But, oh, dear me! the only things he found were a popcorn ball and an empty ice cream cone.

“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed, coming out again into the sunlight, “I guess I’ll have to climb the Lollypop Tree.”

It didn’t take him long to swing himself up, and as he climbed higher and higher, the little rabbit watched him anxiously. Pretty soon the Big Brown Bear reached the branches where the lollypops grow in a rainbow row.

“Do you want that nice pink one?” he asked, looking down into the little rabbit’s upturned face.

“Oh, yes!” shouted the bunny boy. “And that green one, too, and that one all blue, and maybe a purple one for you.”

Carefully picking off the lollypops, the big kind animal shoved them into his coat pocket. Then sliding down the tree, he walked over and sat down on the big wooden bench.

“Come, hop up beside me. We’ll sing the lollypop song!” and moving over to one side to make room for the little rabbit he held up the purple lollypop. Then the little bunny held up the pink lollypop, and, both together, all at once, just at the same time, they shouted:

“Hip, Hip, Hurray, I lick a lollypop every day.”

Pretty soon the lollypops were licked all to pieces—nothing was left but the two little sticks.

“Well, well,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, taking out of his pocket the green and blue lollypops. Then he and his little bunny friend held them up in the same way, singing all over again the lovely lollypop song, and when only the little sticks remained, the Big Brown Bear asked with a smile:

“What shall we do now?”

“Let’s have one more lollypop and one more song,” answered the little rabbit.

“Dear, dear, dearest me! I must climb up the Lollypop Tree!” sighed the Big Brown Bear. But he was so kind and he was so good that up he went, until at last he came to the row where the beautiful, luscious lollypops grow.

“Do you want that yellow one?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, I do, and that red one, too,” shouted the little rabbit, “and that orange one will be good for you.”

Picking them off the branches with his furry paw, the Big Brown Bear slipped them in his pocket and, scrambling down to the ground, walked over to the big wooden bench. The little rabbit followed close at his heels and, jumping up beside him, peeked into the good-natured animal’s pocket.

“My, what a hungry little bunny,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, pulling out the lollypops. Then, holding up the orange colored one in his right paw, he waited for the little bunny boy.

“Hip, Hip, Hurray, I lick a lollypop every day,”

they shouted all over again; and not until the lollypops were all gone did the little rabbit suddenly remember the errand for his mother.

“Dear, oh, dear! I almost forgot that mother wants a clothes-pin from the Three-in-One Cent Store. Good-by, Mr. Big Brown Bear,” and away hopped the little rabbit down the winding trail, in and out among the trees, until at last he hopped across Busy Beaver’s dam that held back the water in the Bubbling Brook.

“What’s your hurry?” asked the beaver.

“Don’t stop me!” replied the little bunny boy. “Mother asked me to get a clothes-pin,” and, hitching up his little knapsack, he swung his little striped candy cane around three times and a half and hopped merrily up the Old Cow Path toward the farmyard.

“Hello!” cackled Henny Jenny, as he peeked in through the fence.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” crowed Cocky Doodle.

“I’m pretty well,” answered the bunny boy rabbit, “but don’t stop me! I must get a clothes-pin for mother at the Three-in-One Cent Store.”

But, dear me! Just then Ducky Waddles shuffled around the big haystack and Turkey Tim strutted across the yard. Of course they, too, shouted “Hello!” and the next minute the Weathercock on the big Red Barn spun around on his gilded toe and asked the little rabbit the time.

“Dear me!” thought the little bunny, taking out the big gold watch which Uncle Lucky had given him for a birthday present, “I’m afraid to look—I’ve wasted so much time this morning.” And then, oh, how I hate to tell it, something dreadful happened.

All of a sudden, Just like that, Out of the house Came the farmer’s cat.

“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, backing away toward the old apple tree, “Black Cat will surely scratch all the little buttons off my fur overcoat.”

“Meow! Meow!” cried Black Cat, creeping forward, his wicked green eyes blazing like balls of fire and his sharp claws sticking out of his fur-mittens.

And the poor little rabbit, his back against the old apple tree, stood all a-tremble, not knowing what to do.

“Go way, go way!” he cried. But closer and closer crept the wicked cat in his long black coat.

All of a sudden a little voice from a treetop whispered:

“Don’t you remember how your mother taught you to defend yourself?”

Then, of course, the little rabbit boy remembered the only way a bunny can protect himself. Turning around as quick as a flash, he struck out with his two strong hind legs, hitting Black Cat such a welt in the belt that all the breath was knocked out of him. It took the old cat five minutes to find it. And while he hunted here and there, under a stone and behind a bush, away hopped the little rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, down the road to Rabbitville.

“Don’t forget next time to remember what mother tells you,” called little Bobbie Redvest from the apple tree.

“Oh, I won’t, I won’t!” shouted the little bunny boy over his shoulder, “I’m trying now to remember the clothes-pin!” and away he hopped faster than ever to the Three-in-One Cent Store.

BUNNY TALE 4

UNCLE LUCKY

Goodness me! boys and girls, I think I forgot to mention that just back of Uncle Lucky’s little white house stood a tiny garage in which he kept his Luckymobile, the fastest car in all Rabbitville. Sometimes it went so fast that the hind wheels couldn’t keep up with the front wheels. Then, of course, the old gentleman rabbit had to honk the horn and put on the brakes to avoid a dreadful accident.

One morning dear Uncle Lucky hopped into the kitchen where Little Miss Mousie was setting the breakfast table while the turnip tea was singing on the stove.

As soon as the meal was over the old gentleman rabbit slipped his big diamond horseshoe pin into his purple cravat and buttoned up his pink waistcoat. Then tying his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over the top of his old wedding stovepipe hat and under his chin to keep Billy Breeze from blowing it off, he shouted, “Good-by, Little Miss Mousie!” and hopped out to the garage, where the old Red Rooster was cleaning the Luckymobile cushions with his feather duster tail.

“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping into the Luckymobile, “I’m going to take Little Jack Rabbit out for a ride.” And, giving the horn a honk or two, he whizzed through the little gate in the white picket fence. At Cabbage Street he turned off Lettuce Avenue and into the Shady Forest. By and by, after a while, he reached the dear Old Bramble Patch.

“I’ll be out in just a minute!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit in answer to the three honks of the Luckymobile horn. “I’ve almost finished polishing the front door knob.”

“Don’t hurry!” replied the old gentleman rabbit, hopping around to the kitchen where Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, was wiping the dishes.

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” chirped the little Black Cricket from the woodbox by the kitchen stove.

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” sang the Three Little Grasshoppers, while the pretty Canary from her gold cage twittered a song of welcome and the Hollyhocks nodded their heads as the old gentleman rabbit hopped up on the little back porch.

Lady Love pushed forward the big rocking chair and when the old gentleman bunny was comfortably seated, handed him a cup of turnip tea.

“Ah, me!” he sighed, though smiling at Lady Love:

“When I was young and frisky Way back in ’63, A pretty little bunny girl Gave me a cup of tea,”

and taking a blue silk polkadot handkerchief out of his coat-tail pocket, dear kind Uncle Lucky wiped a tear from his left eye.

Pretty soon when Little Jack Rabbit had finished polishing the front door knob, he and Uncle Lucky hopped out to the Luckymobile and drove away across the Sunny Meadow, up the Old Cow Path and over the hill-top, to the Shady Forest.

Everything was going along so nicely and Billy Breeze was whistling such a merry tune in the treetops when, all of a sudden, just like that, quick as the bills on the first of the month, something happened. Isn’t it too bad that unpleasant things always happen when these two dear little rabbits are enjoying themselves?

Before Uncle Lucky could stop the Luckymobile it ran straight into a big log that lay across the Shady Forest Path, and out went the two little bunnies. No sooner had they picked themselves up than whom should they see peeping around a tree, but Mr. Wicked Wolf.

“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” whispered Little Jack Rabbit, “let’s turn back.”

But, goodness gracious me! who was standing not far behind them, but Danny Fox!

“Worse and worse,” sighed poor dear Uncle Lucky, hopping off sideways when, all of a sudden, Old Man Weasel crept from behind a stone.

“What shall we do?” cried the poor little rabbit, all a-tremble with fright. “Won’t somebody come to help us?”

“Hurry up, little rabbit, Quickly jump Into that friendly old Hollow Stump,”

whispered a little voice from the treetop. And, wasn’t it lucky? it was the Old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth.

“S.O.S. Please come quick, Policeman Dog, with your hickory stick!”

shouted the bunny boy.

Then brave Uncle Lucky held the door tight shut with his strong hind legs while the little rabbit peeped out through a knothole.

“Is he coming? Is he coming?” asked the anxious old gentleman rabbit, still holding the door tightly closed with his strong hind legs.

“Maybe I can see him with my left eye,” answered the little rabbit, again squinting through the knothole. “Here he comes! Here he comes!”

Sure enough, the big kind Policeman Dog in his long blue coat with its big silver star was running swiftly across the Sunny Meadow.

“Here, I am!” he shouted, waving his hickory stick and blowing his big shrill whistle.

No sooner did Danny Fox hear that whistle than he ran through the Shady Forest.

No sooner did Mr. Wicked Wolf see the big kind Policeman Dog than he, too, turned and fled.

As for Old Man Weasel, he crawled under the bed on reaching home and never dared to come out for a week and a day.

“Everything is safe now!” shouted the big kind Policeman Dog, tapping the little door of the old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth with his big hickory stick. So out hopped the two little rabbits.

“Here, take this!” cried dear generous Uncle Lucky, pulling out of his wallet a ten dollar lettuce leaf bill for the brave Policeman Dog. “Buy the Missus a new calico apron and the little bow-wow some candy.”

“Thank you,” said the good Policeman Dog, saluting the old gentleman rabbit with his right paw, and away he ran to the Police Station in Rabbitville.

“I guess we’d better go home,” said the old gentleman rabbit. “We’ve had enough trouble for to-day,” and before long he drove through the gate in the white picket fence and around to the garage in the rear of his little white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot Street, Rabbitville.

There stood the Old Red Rooster, polishing his spurs with Uncle Lucky’s shoe brush.

“Are you going to a wedding?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, winking at Mrs. Swallow, who was peeping out of her mud house under the eaves.

“No, to a fight!” answered the Old Red Rooster.

“Maybe I’d better bring in some cabbage leaves,” said the old gentleman rabbit, hopping down the little path under the grape arbor and around the Old Well to the garden. “Miss Mousie can make us a nice salad for lunch.” And while his little mouse housekeeper was setting the table, he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped out on the front porch where, just under the roof, pretty Mrs. Sparrow had a nest crowded with little birdies.

Sitting down in the hammock, the old gentleman rabbit swung back and forth, while his little bunny nephew looked in the croquet box to see if Hungry Hawk had stolen one of the nice wooden balls.

Pretty soon, when the old gentleman rabbit had fallen asleep, Mrs. Sparrow whispered in the little bunny’s ear,

“I never, never pay a cent, My little house is free of rent,”

and she went on to explain how dear generous Uncle Lucky allowed her to use his front porch free of charge all through the year.

By and by Little Miss Mousie came to the front door to say that luncheon was ready.

“Dearest me!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “did I fall asleep?” and jumping out of the hammock, he winked at little Mrs. Sparrow. Then calling to Little Jack Rabbit, he hopped through the front hall, where the Old Grandfather Clock went tick, tickie, tock all the day long.

“Oh, all the day long Old Grandfather Clock Went tickie, tick, tickie, Tick, tickie, tock.

But Little Miss Mousie, She wasn’t afraid, As she polished the window And pulled down the shade.

She loved the Old Grandfather Tick, tockey Clock, Why, she sang to herself As it went tickie, tock!

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, hanging his old wedding stovepipe hat on the hat-stand, “I’m as hungry as three bears!”

“So am I,” laughed the little rabbit, “I could eat a bag of animal crackers!”

“Dearest me! Somebody’s knocking,” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, as Little Miss Mousie brought in the lollypop stew. “I wonder if it’s Old Man Trouble?”

“No, it isn’t,” answered Little Miss Mousie, peeking through the keyhole. “It’s Granddaddy Bullfrog.”