Part 5

On seeing the little rabbit, he dived into the water and swam over to the bank.

“Hello, what brings you here?” he asked, for something in the little rabbit’s manner told him there was a surprise in store.

“Give you three guesses,” laughed the little bunny. “Three guesses and then two more.”

“Danny Fox been caught?”

“No,” answered Little Jack Rabbit.

“Mr. Wicked Weasel in jail?”

“No,” answered Little Jack Rabbit.

“Chippy Chipmunk has the measles?”

“No,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, with a shake of his head.

“Well, what is it, then?” asked Busy Beaver.

“Circus Party!” shouted the little bunny. “I’m giving a circus party at Turnip City. Have you been to Uncle Lucky’s Circus?”

“Not yet,” replied the little beaver.

“Be sure to come to the Old Bramble Patch at seven to-morrow morning. We’re all going down in the Billy Goat Stage Coach. So be on time and don’t forget, for we’ll have a jolly time, you bet,” and away hopped the little rabbit to invite other friends in the Shady Forest.

In a little while, not so very far, he met Peter Possum and his family.

“Won’t you all come to my circus party?” asked the bunny boy.

“What time?” enquired the old Possum.

“To-morrow morning at seven the Billy Goat Stage Coach will be at the Old Bramble Patch. So be on time and don’t be late, for we’ll not have a minute to wait,” shouted the little rabbit, hopping swiftly away to find another friend, and maybe two, for his circus party.

“I wonder whether Professor Crow would like to come,” thought the little bunny. “Maybe he’ll be pleased to be invited. Anyway, there’s no harm in asking him.”

“What’s the matter? Any one ill? Doctor Quack has a wonderful pill,”

shouted the old Professor Bird looking out of his window as the bunny boy knocked on the tiny door in the Tall Pine Tree.

“I don’t need Dr. Quack, the famous duck doctor,” he answered. “I’m giving a circus party. Won’t you and Mrs. Crow and Blackie Crow come? We start to-morrow morning at seven right after breakfast from the Old Bramble Patch. The Billy Goat Stage Coach will take us all to Turnip City where the circus people are giving a show. I’m sure little Blackie will love to go.”

“We all will,” answered Professor Crow. “It makes me feel young again just to think of it. Thank you. We’ll be on time.”

BUNNY TALE 9

THE CIRCUS

Goodness gracious me! That Billy Goat Stage Coach will be dreadfully crowded if Little Jack Rabbit invites many more friends to his circus party. Of course, when you come to think it over, the birds can perch on the roof and the little animals crawl under the seats; maybe one or two might sit with the stage coach driver, the nice Old Dog who smokes a big pipe while holding the reins in his left paw and the whip in his right. Oh, he’s a good driver, so kind and gentle that the billy goat team will do anything for him.

“Dear me, I mustn’t forget a single friend,” thought the little rabbit, as he hopped over the Bubbling Brook and across the Sunny Meadow to the Old Brush Heap.

Up the well-worn little path he hurried, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, to Cousin Cottontail’s little bungalow under the trailing green vines.

“Cousin Cottontail,” he shouted, “where are you?”

“We’re here,” came the answer, and out popped all the little cottontails, one after another—five in all, their pink noses twinkling like so many little stars.

“I’m giving a circus party to-morrow,” said Little Jack Rabbit. “Want to come?”

Gracious me! I don’t see why he thought it necessary to ask five little bunnies if they wanted to go to the circus!

“Of course we do,” they all shouted at once, which brought Mrs. Cottontail to the door to find out what all the noise was about.

“What time do you start?” she asked.

“At seven to-morrow morning. We all go in the Billy Goat Stage Coach,” explained Little Jack Rabbit. “Please be on time, for if we don’t get an early start we may not reach Turnip City in time to see the Grand Parade of all the Queer People.”

“We’ll be over bright and early,” promised Mrs. Cottontail. “Don’t you worry about us. Maybe some of your other friends will keep you waiting, but not your old auntie.”

Pretty soon she brought out an apronful of nice cookies, just hot out of the oven.

Oh, what a nice feast all the little rabbits had! Nor did they forget to save the crumbs for Bobbie Redvest, who happened to pass by later on.

“Well, I guess I must be going,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit, when the last cookie was gone. “Mother will worry if I’m late for supper.” And away he hopped, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, down the little path under the Big Brush Heap and across the Pleasant Meadow to the Bubbling Brook, over which he hopped to the Sunny Meadow. At last he was safe home in the dear Old Bramble Patch, eating a nice supper of stewed lollypops.

It seemed to him that he had hardly jumped into bed and fallen asleep when:

“Wake up, wake up! It’s almost time For the Billy Goat Stage to be here. Will I have to climb to your little bedroom And shout it out loud in your ear?”

sang the cuckoo bird from her pretty clock house.

Out of bed hopped Lady Love and Mr. Rabbit; off came Grandma Bunny’s night cap, and in less time than I can take to tell it they were all dressed and in the kitchen, eating a breakfast of lollypop porridge, turnip tea and carrot cakes with maple syrup.

“All aboard for Turnip Town To see the elephant and the clown; It’s miles and miles to Turnip Square, We must start now if we want to get there,”

all of a sudden barked the Old Dog Driver atop the Billy Goat Stage Coach.

“Wait a minute,” begged Grandmother Magpie.

“I’m coming,” panted the Big Brown Bear.

“Here I am,” called out Granddaddy Bullfrog.

“I’m on time,” laughed Cousin Cottontail, with her five little bunnies hopping after her.

“Who said I was late?” cackled Henny Jenny.

“Good morning, I’m here,” said Turkey Tim.

“Is there room enough for me?” asked Timmie Meadowmouse.

“I’ll sit on top,” sang Bobbie Redvest.

“So will I,” said Squirrel Nutcracker.

“And that’s where I’ll sit,” said pretty Mrs. Oriole.

“I’m with you,” cawed Professor Jim Crow, seating himself with his family.

“Room for one more?” asked Ducky Waddles.

“I was nearly late,” cried Cocky Doodle.

“Let me squeeze in,” crowed the Old Red Rooster.

“Don’t step on us,” chirped the Three Little Grasshoppers.

“Nor on me,” squeaked little Miss Cricket.

“Hold on, I’m getting in,” barked the Yellow Dog Tramp.

“I ran all the way,” panted Busy Beaver.

“So did I,” said Chippy Chipmunk.

“Any more?” asked the Old Dog Driver.

“Yes, yes!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky. “I’m going,” and the dear old gentleman rabbit hopped out of his Luckymobile and into the Stage Coach.

“I guess everybody’s here,” said Mr. Rabbit.

“Who’s that coming across the meadows?” asked the lady bunny, looking out of the stage coach window.

“Why, bless my pink tie and horseshoe pin,” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “it’s Goosey Lucy.”

As soon as she was aboard, the Old Dog Driver cracked his whip and away they went to Turnip City to see Uncle Lucky’s wonderful circus.

Over the bumps and over the stones, While the lollypops rattled the ice-cream cones, Went the Billy Goat Stage Coach with a quiver Till at last it reached the Sippi River.

“Whoa!” shouted the Old Dog Driver, pulling in his team of billy goats. “Whoa!” and this time he said it so loud that an old duck waddled out of a little house close to the bridge gate.

“My gracious!” she quacked, “you have a load, all right. I never saw so many animals and birds in a stage coach before, and I’m an old duck. Oh, yes, I’m as old as a good many great-great-grandmothers.”

“What is the toll?” asked the Old Dog Driver, lighting his pipe and puffing out a cloud of smoke.

“Five carrot cents for the stage coach, ten carrot cents for the Billy Goat Team, two carrot cents for yourself, and three carrot cents for each passenger,” answered the old lady duck.

“Dear me,” whined the Old Dog Driver, “it will take some time to count it all up. How will a lettuce leaf dollar bill suit you?”

“Won’t do,” answered the old lady duck. My, wasn’t she particular, though?

“Well then, let’s start counting,” sighed the Old Dog Driver. “You count those on top and I’ll count those inside, and who gets done first, wins.”

“Wins what?” asked the old Lady Duck.

“A Little Jack Rabbit Book,” laughed the Old Dog Driver. “I have one in my pocket for your little grand duckling. Hurry up and win.”

Then, goodness me! How that lady duck did count! In less than five hundred short seconds she had finished and the Old Dog Driver had only just begun.

Well, sir, when it came to pay, the toll was more than a lettuce leaf dollar bill. Dear me, yes. But what it was I won’t bother to tell you, for I haven’t had time to count the passengers. Have you?

As soon as the toll gate swung open, over the bridge, pranced the billy goats, rapperty rap, rapperty rap, and before very long they were galloping up a steep hill, for those billy goats didn’t mind that. No, siree! They were used to climbing mountains and, besides, everybody was singing:

“I want to go to the Circus, To see the elephants dance. I want to run round the sawdust ring In my very best Sunday pants.

I’m crazy to sip the pink lemonade, Oh, get me in time for the Big Parade! Oh, hurry up faster, for I am afraid I’ll surely go crazy if we are delayed!”

My goodness! how that Billy Goat Coach rolled over the pebbles and over the stones. And how those billy goats pranced and threw out their heels, shook their heads and their long horns.

“Gid-ap!” barked the Old Dog Driver.

“Let ’er go!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky.

Away, faster than ever, and faster still, went the billy goats up the big steep hill, and down the other side to Rabbitville.

Along Lettuce Avenue they clattered, past the Three-in-One Cent Store, past the Welsh Rarebit Club and the Post Office, from the doorway of which the Old Maid Grasshopper waved a white pocket handkerchief; past the Old Mill where the Dusty Moth Miller ground the corn for the farmer bunnies; past the house of Dr. Quack, the famous duck doctor, and the little green house in which Mrs. Mouse lived.

Dear me! I could go on and on just like the old coach, and say so much that I’d have no room to put in what happened when it finally drew up in Turnip City.

“Whoa there, my good little billy goats!” shouted the Old Dog Driver, as the big Policeman Dog held up his paw to stop the taxis and wagons until everybody was safe on the sidewalk. Then the Old Dog Driver gave the billy goats a nice drink of water at the fountain and drove around to the wagon entrance on Cabbage Street.

Well, it didn’t take the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow people long to walk into the tent. Uncle Lucky headed the procession, Little Jack Rabbit next, then Grandma Bunny and Lady Love, Mr. Rabbit and the Big Brown Bear, until, way down at the end, waddled Ducky Waddles.

“Quack, quack! Please hurry!” he begged, beginning to fear the circus would be over by the time he entered the tent.

But he needn’t have worried, for the Old Dog Driver had arrived early.

“Come on, Timmie Meadowmouse,” cried the little bunny, “I must see the animals.”

Pretty soon they came to a little tent. They didn’t know it belonged to the Circus Queen, the lovely lady dressed in gauze and gold spangles, who rode on the big white horse.

There she sat on a circus trunk, holding in her arms a little baby.

“Hush-a-by, hush-a-by, Little Boy Blue, Mother is singing A dream song to you.

Some day you’ll grow To be a big Clown, And you’ll make ’em laugh In city and town.

But I’ll love you best, If you’ll whisper ‘Goo, goo.’ To help me remember How little were you.”

“Gracious me!” she exclaimed in a whisper on seeing Little Jack Rabbit and Timmie Meadowmouse, “am I dreaming? Maybe I’m in By-low Land!”

“No, m’am,” answered the little bunny, taking off his khaki cap, “I hear them calling you!”

Sure enough, a man’s voice was shouting, “Liz, oh, Liz! Liz, Liz!”

“I’m coming,” answered the Circus Queen, tenderly placing the sleeping baby in its cradle.

Just outside stood a big white horse, and before the little bunny could say “Oh! Ah!” she was riding into the big tent. “Hurrah! Hurray! Here’s Lizzie Gray, she’s riding better every day!” clapped and shouted all the people.

But nobody knew she was a loving mother nor that just outside in the little tent slept Boy Blue.

All of a sudden the band struck up and a funny clown began to sing:

“Uncle Lucky’s Big Star Show, That’s our circus name, From Lettuce Square to Everywhere We play the circus game.

Over the tanbark in the ring I turn a somersault or a spring, And then I give a merry laugh That tickles to death the big giraffe.”

After that the big parade went around the ring, pretty girls dressed up as butterflies, elephants gayly decorated with diamond chains, camels carrying gorgeously gowned ladies, big floats with funny little dwarfs. Everything you can think of, and lots of things you’d never dream of.

My, wasn’t it fun. Well, I guess yes three times, and maybe four. I’m sure I can’t count, I’m so excited just writing about the circus.

For I’m still a boy I’ll let you know, And I’m never too tired or fagged to go To see the circus. Not me, you bet! If it hadn’t closed down I’d be there yet.

“Hurrah!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit. “There’s the circus Queen!”

“Hurray!” shouted the Big Brown Bear, and the next minute he shouted it three times for the trained bear had begun to roller skate.

Goodness me! How the Shady Forest Folk and the Sunny Meadow People enjoyed it all. Even Grandmother Magpie smiled and clapped her wings. As for Granddaddy Bullfrog, he hip-hurrayed until he grew so husky that he didn’t make a sound when he opened his mouth.

By and by, after a while, the show ended and Little Jack Rabbit’s Circus Party marched out and into the Billy Goat Stage Coach.

“Good-by, come again next year!” cried the big Policeman Dog on the street corner.

“Much obliged,” answered Uncle Lucky, waving his old wedding stovepipe hat. “We’ll be back inside a year, see you keep the crossing clear; let no taxi run us down when we come to Turnip Town.”

Then away rattled the stage coach, the two little billy goats prancing up Lettuce Avenue as gayly as you please.

“Toot, toot!” went the ferryboat whistle, as it neared the river. “Hurry up!” it seemed to say. So the Old Dog Driver cracked his whip over the heads of the billy goats and in a few minutes all were on board.

“Tinkle, tinkle!” sounded the bell, the big paddle wheels commenced to turn, and in less time than I can take to tell it the ferryboat was half across the River Sippi, and almost before dear Uncle Lucky could get his shoes shined it bumped into the ferry slip.

“Well, well, well! Here we are!” exclaimed the dear old gentleman rabbit, when the Billy Goat Stage Coach at last drew up before the Old Bramble Patch;

“There’s no place like home, Be it ever so humble,” Said the little gold bee With a buzz and a bumble.

In a few minutes the coach was empty and as soon as the little people of the forest and meadow had thanked Little Jack Rabbit for a good time, they either hopped or ran or flew to their homes. Pretty soon there was nobody left, so the happy rabbit family hopped into the little white house in the Old Bramble Patch. In a few minutes the nice old lady bunny and Lady Love had prepared a nice hot supper.

“I declare,” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, setting down his cup of hot turnip tea, “that certainly was the best circus I’ve been to in many a year.”

“I’ll tell the world,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit.

“What do you know about circuses, you little bunny?” laughed the funny old gentleman rabbit. “This is the first time you’ve ever been to one.”

“That doesn’t matter,” answered the little bunny. “I’ve dreamed about them many a time, and some dreams are very real.”

“Make your dreams come true— Dreams are part of you,”

softly twittered the little canary.

“That reminds me of a story,” mused dear Uncle Lucky, pushing up his spectacles and settling himself comfortably in the old arm chair:

“Once upon a time a little bird in a blue coat sat on an Old Snake Fence. All around him the earth was dingy, the trees bare and leafless. The chilly wind kept little patches of snow still lingering in the shady hollow places. But all this didn’t keep the brave little bird from whistling merrily, for in his heart he held a dream of summer, red roses and green woods, grassy meadows and little hills covered with wild strawberries.

“So he sang his song of promise to his mate while she made a comfortable nest in a dry hole in a fence post. By and by, when it was finished, she filled it with pretty eggs, on which she sat to warm them with her feathers. And while she sat there she, too, dreamed—dreamed of four little bluebirds.

“As the sun grew warmer and the meadow greener and the forest more leafy, one by one the little bluebirds broke open the shells.

“‘Tirel loo, tirel loo, Make your happy dreams come true. See, the spring has come again With the sunshine after rain, And beneath the mother’s breast Four blue birdies in the nest,’

sang the Bluebird from the top rail of the Old Snake Fence. There,” said dear Uncle Lucky, “that’s all!”

BUNNY TALE 10

THE CIRCUS ELEPHANT

For days nobody talked of anything but the Circus party. From bush and tree in the Shady Forest, from hollow and hill in the Sunny Meadow, the Little Feathered and Fourfooted Folk were telling over and over again the wonderful things they had seen at the circus.

“Gracious me,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, “that cousin of mine certainly can roller skate.”

“Well, he was no better than my relative who flew through the ring of flames,” cried Professor Jim Crow.

“Nor any braver than my nephew who fired the pistol. That pup was some dog!” barked the Yellow Dog Tramp, wagging his tail.

“Well, just the same, I’m glad to be back on my old log,” said Granddaddy Bullfrog. “There’s always something going on in the Old Duck Pond. If it isn’t a perch chasing a minnow, it’s Ducky Waddles. Mrs. Darning Needle is never idle and the little tadpoles make me laugh.”

After a week, however, every one settled down again. Little Jack Rabbit had almost forgotten that he’d ever been to a circus when one day just about noontime, who should come along but the Big Circus Elephant. Dear me, how tired he looked! His coat was covered with dust and there was a dent in the little hat on the top of his head. I suppose in coming through the Shady Forest the big animal had brushed against a branch.

“Whew, I’m tired!” he cried, sitting down under the Big Chestnut Tree near which Chippy Chipmunk had his home. “It’s a long way from Turnip City.”

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Little Jack Rabbit, hopping up beside him. “How long did it take you?”

“Two days and forty-four miles,” answered the tired Elephant. “But I’m here at last. So let’s forget troubles and look ahead, as my good mother used to say when I was a kid in Jungle Land.”

“Are you hungry?” asked Little Jack Rabbit. “I have two lollypops and a custard pie in my knapsack.”

“Let’s look at ’em,” answered the Elephant, taking off his hat to wipe his forehead with a pocket handkerchief as large as a table cloth.

“Here they are,” said the little bunny.

“Look pretty nice,” grunted the Circus Elephant, carefully holding the pie with the little finger on the end of his trunk. “Tastes just as good. Got any more?”

“No, but Mother bakes to-day,” answered the bunny boy, “perhaps she’ll bake a big one for you.”

When the Elephant had finished the lollypops he felt better, so he said, and, taking off his hat, he leaned against the Big Chestnut Tree and fell asleep.

“My goodness! It takes an elephant a long time to wake up,” thought the little rabbit, when at last his big circus friend opened his eyes.

“Nothing like a little nap,” yawned the great big animal, rubbing his ear and stretching his hind legs. After that he yawned again, turning up his trunk to get a good long breath of fresh air.

“I dreamed you were handing me a peanut.”

“My, but you snored,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. “I couldn’t go to sleep until I pretended you were a big engine in a lollypop factory.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the Circus Elephant. “That reminds me. Didn’t you say it was baking day at the Old Bramble Patch?”

“I did,” replied the bunny boy.

“All right, we’ll make a call on your mother,” said the Circus Elephant, scrambling to his feet. “How do I look?” he asked, straightening his bow tie.

“Very nice,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, “except your trousers. They’re all covered with bits of dry leaves.”

“So they are,” said the Circus Elephant, looking down. “Have you a whisk broom?”

The little bunny opened his knapsack and, taking out a small broom, carefully brushed off the big Elephant.

“I can’t reach your hip-pocket,” he said, standing on tiptoe.

“Here, give me the broom,” said the Circus Elephant, and, grasping the handle in his trunk, he dusted himself off as well as Mister Rastus Coon, the kind porter on the “Cabbage” Pullman Car, brushes a sleepy passenger.

“Now I’ll lift you up on my back,” and the next minute Little Jack Rabbit found himself riding off on the big animal.

By and by, after a while, and maybe a mile and a bump and a smile, they met Old Man Weasel. But Little Jack Rabbit wasn’t afraid. Oh, dear, no! Why should he be? He was way up high on the Circus Elephant’s broad back. Old Man Weasel couldn’t reach up that far, not even if he stood on tiptoe.

“Get out of my way,” roared the big Elephant. “You’re blocking up the path.”

“Where are you going?” snarled Old Man Weasel, stepping aside. My, didn’t he look ugly! Well, I just guess he did. But that didn’t do him any good.

“Never you mind,” replied the Circus Elephant. “You’re no friend of ours.”

“If you meet a wicked weasel And you are all alone, You get a creepy feeling Along your spinal bone.

But if you have an elephant To guard you with his trunk, You laugh at Mr. Weasel,” Sang naughty Sammy Skunk

from his Shady Forest house.

“Oh, keep quiet, will you?” snapped the Old Weasel.

“Why should he?” asked the big Circus Elephant. “He speaks the truth. Can’t say that about you!”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit. “Won’t Uncle Lucky smile when I tell him what has happened?”

“I’ve a good mind to bite you,” cried Old Man Weasel, glaring at Sammy Skunk.

“You’d better not,” replied Sammy Skunk. “You know what I’ll do to you.”

Of course Old Man Weasel did, and so did all the Shady Forest Folk. But if they don’t meddle with Sammy Skunk he treats them very politely. Yes, indeed.

“Well, so long,” sang out the big Circus Elephant. “We’ve no more time to talk,” and off he went at a rapid pace, and by and by, after a while, not nearly a mile, with a bump and a smile, he stopped at the gate in the old Rail Fence.

“I’ll take down the bars,” he said. “I guess Mrs. Cow won’t try to get out while we’re walking in.”

“Oh, no,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “She likes the Sunny Meadow. Besides, she is way over there,” pointing toward the Old Duck Pond. “She won’t bother us.”

After the big Circus Elephant had put back the bars he followed the Old Cow Path through the Sunny Meadow to the Old Bramble Patch in the far corner of the Old Rail Fence. Setting the little rabbit down, he wiped his forehead with a big blue silk handkerchief nearly as large as a sheet.

“When does your mother take the cake from the oven?” he asked, with a funny wink, looking at his watch.

“When it’s done,” replied the little rabbit.