Part 4

“And while you are learning to skip rope, Baby Bunty,” said Uncle Wiggily, “I’ll just sit down on this soft green mossy log and go to sleep. You won’t mind, will you?”

“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty.

She found a nice, smooth place in the woods, where the green grass made a velvet carpet, and there Baby Bunty began to learn to jump. Uncle Wiggily’s pink nose stopped twinkling, and he fell asleep.

“Oh, dear!” said Baby Bunty, after a bit, “I never can learn all by myself. I’m going to tie one end of my grape vine rope to a tree, and ask Uncle Wiggily to turn the other end for me. Then I can learn to jump and, after a while, I’ll be able to turn for myself.”

Gently she tickled Uncle Wiggily under the chin with a soft piece of grass.

“Eh! What’s the matter? Mosquitoes?” cried the bunny gentleman, as he sat up suddenly and opened his eyes.

“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty. “I’m sorry to wake you up, Uncle Wiggily, but will you please turn rope for me? Just turn it salt, which is very slowly, and perhaps you can do that and sleep at the same time.”

“Perhaps!” said Uncle Wiggily, but rather doubtful like. “We’ll try.”

So he took one end of the grape vine rope, while the other end was tied to a tree, and Uncle Wiggily turned for Baby Bunty. He turned slowly, as one must for “salt,” and Uncle Wiggily’s eyes were just closing, and he was dozing off, when Baby Bunty said:

“Oh, could you please turn a little faster, Uncle Wiggily? I’m beginning to learn how. Please turn as fast as pepper.”

“All right,” said Mr. Longears, good-natured like and accommodating. So he turned faster—like pepper you know—and even at that he was soon falling asleep again, when Bunty cried:

“Oh, I’m doing fine, Uncle Wiggily! I can even jump as fast as vinegar now, if you’ll turn more quickly for me.”

“Well, I’ll turn faster,” said Mr. Longears. “But I can plainly see that I’ll get no sleep today.”

So he turned “vinegar,” and Bunty jumped it easily, for she was fast learning how. Even then Uncle Wiggily nodded, and was almost going to sleep, when Bunty cried:

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Please turn mustard! Turn mustard fashion as fast as you can! Wake up and turn mustard!”

“What’s this! Can you so soon jump as fast as mustard?” cried the bunny, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, no, I can’t jump mustard yet!” cried Bunty. “But I had to say something to wake you up quickly. Look, here comes the bad Pipsisewah! We must run! Run as fast as you can! Run mustard fashion!”

“I will!” said Uncle Wiggily, and he did, and so did Bunty, and by running mustard, which is very fast, they soon got safely away from the bad Pipsisewah.

“Hum!” said the Pip, as he was left behind in the woods. “If it hadn’t been for Baby Bunty waking up Uncle Wiggily, I surely would have had his souse!”

So it’s a good thing the little rabbit girl learned how to skip her grape vine rope, isn’t it? And the next day she could jump mustard. And if the automobile doesn’t go swimming in with the gold fish and make the poll parrot sleep in the cat’s cradle, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s scooter.

STORY XVI UNCLE WIGGILY AND BUNTY’S SCOOTER

One day, when Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, came home to his hollow stump bungalow, having been over to call on Grandpa Goosey Gander, Mr. Longears saw Baby Bunty sitting on the front steps looking very sad and sorrowful.

“What’s the matter?” asked Uncle Wiggily. “Did you lose your grape vine skipping rope, Baby Bunty?”

“Oh, no,” answered the little rabbit girl. “My rope is all right, and I can jump salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard and even rice pudding. But I want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily! I want a scooter very much!”

“A scooter!” cried the bunny rabbit gentleman, in surprise. “What is that? Something new to jump rope with?”

“Oh, no,” answered Baby Bunty with a smile. “A scooter is a little two-wheeler roller skate wagon. It has wheels on it, and a place for you to stand with your feet and a place to hold on by your paws. You get on the scooter, give yourself a little push, and away you scoot as fast as anything! I want a scooter, Uncle Wiggily. All the other animal boys and girls have ’em!”

“Then you shall have one, too!” cried Mr. Longears. “Come on, Baby Bunty, we’ll go down to the fifteen and sixteen cent store and get you a scooter!”

“Oh, joy!” said Baby Bunty, clapping her paws, and trying to make her pink nose twinkle like Uncle Wiggily’s. But she didn’t do it very well, being so small.

A little later the rabbit gentleman and the little girl, who had been found in a hollow stump, were on their way through the woods to the fifteen and sixteen cent barn where they sold scooters.

“Give me the best one you have for Baby Bunty,” ordered Uncle Wiggily, and it was given him.

“Oh, may I ride home on it?” asked Baby Bunty, when they were on the smooth woodland path once more.

“Why, yes, if you know how,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“Oh, all you have to do with a scooter,” spoke Baby Bunty, “is to get on with your hind paws, hold fast to the handle with your front paws, give yourself a push and away you scoot!”

“Let me see you try it,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“Maybe you’d better go first,” said Baby Bunty.

“Oh, no, indeed!” laughed her uncle. “I’m too old and stiff, and my rheumatism makes me feel too funny to ride on a scooter. Go ahead, Baby Bunty.”

Baby Bunty got on the foot-part of the scooter. She held tightly with her front paws, and gave herself a push with one hind paw. Along went the scooter, but alas! Likewise a-lack-a-day! Baby Bunty must have steered the wrong way, for bunk! into a tree she ran.

“Oh, did you hurt yourself?” asked Uncle Wiggily, as he ran to help her.

“Oh, no!” laughed the little rabbit girl. “It’s fun when I get so I know how to do it!”

Off she started once more, but this time she ran into a stump and bunked her nose.

“Are you hurt?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“No—no,” said Bunty bravely. “But I must be more careful.”

The next time she steered very straight, but she sent the scooter right into a mud puddle and the mud splashed on Uncle Wiggily’s tall silk hat. But, as the hat was black, the mud spots do not show very plainly.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Baby Bunty. “I don’t believe I’ll ever learn how to ride my scooter. I should have bought roller skates. Don’t you want to ride and show me how, Uncle Wiggily?”

“Dear me!” said the rabbit gentleman, unpretentious like. “Do you think, at my age, I could?”

“Of course!” said Baby Bunty.

“I am lame and stiff and have the rheumatism,” said Uncle Wiggily, “but I’ll try anything once. Let me see that scooter, Bunty!”

Uncle Wiggily got on with his hind paws. He took hold with his front paws and he gave himself a push. And, just as it would happen, the scooter was then at the top of a hill. Down this hill went the funny little two-wheeled wagon, with Uncle Wiggily on it.

“Stop! Oh, stop!” begged Mr. Longears, as he saw what was before him. “I didn’t know this was down hill! Stop!”

But it was too late to stop! Down he went, faster and faster. And the scooter traveled so quickly that it rolled straight along and didn’t go from side to side, or bunk into anything.

“Oh, how wonderfully well Uncle Wiggily rides!” said Baby Bunty at the top of the hill, as she began to hop down.

And just then, at the bottom of the hill, the scooter, with Uncle Wiggily on it, struck a stump. Up in the air went the rabbit gentleman, and down he came with a thump. But he landed on a bed of soft moss and wasn’t hurt a bit. The scooter came down with a bump beside him. Uncle Wiggily looked around, dazed like. Baby Bunty came hopping down the hill.

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried. “That was wonderful! But I didn’t know that was the way to get off a scooter.”

“It isn’t,” said Mr. Longears. “And don’t you try that way, either. But I enjoyed my ride. I’m not as stiff as I was, but I may be more so tomorrow. Now I’ll give you some lessons, Baby Bunty.”

The little rabbit girl soon learned to ride her scooter, but not down hill, and she had lots of fun. And if the clock doesn’t strike the dinner bell and make the gas stove think it’s time for supper before breakfast, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the flowers.

STORY XVII UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FLOWERS

Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping through the woods one day, wondering what Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy would have for his dinner in the hollow stump bungalow, when, suddenly, Mr. Longears heard some one call:

“Uncle Wiggily! Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Oh, wait for me!”

Quickly the rabbit gentleman turned around, and lowered his long ears, so they would not stick up over the tops of the bushes.

“I am not sure, as yet, whether I want to wait for whoever this is, or not,” said Uncle Wiggily, cautious like and reserved. “If it’s the Pipsisewah, or the Skuddlemagoon, I certainly don’t want them to see me, or the see the souse on my ears.”

Again the voice cried:

“Oh, Uncle Wiggily! Wait for me! Where are you. I saw you a moment ago, but now I can’t see you! Please wait for mee!”

“Why, that’s Baby Bunty!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, with a joyful twinkle of his pink nose. “My dear little baby rabbit, who was found in a stump! Of course I’ll wait for her.”

Then Uncle Wiggily let his ears flop up, so they could be seen over the bushes, and the little rabbit girl cried:

“Oh, now I can see you! Wait a minute and I’ll hop to where you are.”

Uncle Wiggily sat on a stump and waited. Pretty soon Baby Bunty came hopping along the woodland path.

“My goodness me, sakes alive and some peanut butter cakes!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “What is that yellow stuff on your paws, Baby Bunty?”

“Those are yellow flowers,” said Baby Bunty. “I picked both my paws full of them, and I’m going to give them to Nurse Jane.”

“Yellow flowers, eh?” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “Oh, so they are!” he went on, as he brushed some cobwebs off his glasses. “It is very kind of you to gather them for Nurse Jane.”

“I’m glad you think so,” spoke Baby Bunty. “Have a smell, Uncle Wiggily!” and she held her bouquet of yellow blossoms under the pink, twinkling nose of Uncle Wiggily.

“Oh, Baby Bunty, don’t!” begged Uncle Wiggily, drawing back. “Oh, dear me! A-ker-choo. Ker-snitzio! Bushwah! Bur-r-r-r!” and he sneezed eleven-sixteen times.

“Oh! Are you catching cold, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Baby Bunty.

“No,” answered the old rabbit gentleman. “It’s just the flowers. They have some yellow dust on them, and the petals are so ticklish that, when they touched my nose, they made me sneeze. I like your flowers, Baby Bunty, and so will Nurse Jane, but please don’t hold them so close to my nose again.”

“I won’t,” promised the little rabbit girl. “Now we’ll have a nice game of tag! Come on, chase me!” and away she hopped through the woods.

“Hi, there! Come back!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Don’t run so fast, Baby Bunty! You may get lost or the Pipsisewah may catch you. Come back!”

“No, you chase me! Come on, tag me!” cried Baby Bunty.

“Oh, dear, I suppose I’ll have to,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, with a sort of sighing groan. “But I’m so old and stiff-like——”

But still he felt he must hop on to see that no harm came to Baby Bunty. And that little rabbit girl certainly led the old gentleman rabbit a long chase.

On through the woods hopped Baby Bunty, carrying her yellow flowers, and after her hopped Uncle Wiggily. All of a sudden Mr. Longears, looking ahead, saw the bad old Pipsisewah jump out from behind a stump, and make a grab for Baby Bunty!

“Oh, dear me, and some fire engine rice pudding!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “I should have run faster after Baby Bunty to save her from the Pipsisewah. Yet, even if I were there, what could I do? And what can she do? Oh, this is too bad!”

Then, as he watched, he suddenly saw brave Baby Bunty thrust her bouquet of yellow flowers into the very face of the Pipsisewah. Right under his nose the little rabbit girl held the fuzzy blossoms, and then the Pip quickly turned a backward somersault and a forward peppersault and he went:

“Ker-choo! A-ker-choo-choo! Kersnooziozoozium!”

And he sneezed so hard that he sneezed himself away up over the trees, and far enough off so he couldn’t hurt Uncle Wiggily or Baby Bunty.

“Well, that’s the time the fuzzy, sneezy flowers came in useful!” said Uncle Wiggily.

Then he hopped up to Baby Bunty and found her smiling.

“Now do you like my flowers?” she asked.

“Yes,” answered Uncle Wiggily, “I do. And I’ll carry one of the bouquets for you.” But he was careful to hold it away from his pink, twinkling nose, as he didn’t want to sneeze as hard as the Pipsisewah had done.

So, everything came out all right, and if the fried egg doesn’t go to sleep on the sofa cushion and make the rocking chair think it’s a yellow rose, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the white birch.

STORY XVIII UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE WHITE BIRCH

“Where is Baby Bunty this morning?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, as he came downstairs to a rather late breakfast in his hollow stump bungalow.

“Do you want her to make you chase her, and play tag, or gather more yellow flowers to give the Pipsisewah a sneeze?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she poured some carrot gravy over Uncle Wiggily’s lettuce pancakes.

“Oh, indeed, I don’t want Baby Bunty for anything like that,” spoke Mr. Longears. “I was just thinking, if she were off playing somewhere, I could rest and not have to hop about like a jumping Jack walking a tight rope.”

“Oh, Baby Bunty is good for you!” laughed Nurse Jane. “Still, you needn’t worry now. She is out of the way. She has gone over to play with Beckie Stubtail, the little girl bear, and she is going to stay to supper. Baby Bunty doesn’t want to come home until after dark, and she told me to ask you to go after her.”

“I will,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Hurray! Much as I love Baby Bunty, I like to be quiet, sometimes. Now I can eat my breakfast and have a little sleep.”

So Uncle Wiggily did. In the afternoon he took a hop through the woods and had a little adventure with a frog lady. She was Mrs. No-Tail, the mother of Bully and Bawly, and Mrs. No-Tail fell into a pile of dry dust. Being fond of water, she didn’t like being dry, but she might never have gotten out of the dust if Uncle Wiggily had not helped her.

Then, after supper, Mr. Longears said to Nurse Jane:

“Now I will go over to Beckie Stubtail’s house and get Baby Bunty. She won’t be afraid to come home through the dark woods if I am with her.”

“No,” spoke Nurse Jane, “I hardly believe she will. But be very careful coming through the dark woods, Uncle Wiggily. The Pipsisewah may be hiding there waiting for you.”

“I’ll be careful!” promised the bunny rabbit. “But is there any favor I could do for you when I go to bring home Baby Bunty?”

“Yes,” replied Nurse Jane, “there is. If you have time, after you stop at the Stubtail house for our little rabbit girl, I wish you’d step over to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s, the duck lady. She has a bag of sugar for me. It’s three pounds she is giving me back for some she borrowed of me to make cornmeal cakes.”

“I’ll stop at Mrs. Wibblewobble’s and get the sugar, and also bring Baby Bunty home,” said Uncle Wiggily.

Then he hopped off through the woods. It was getting dark, but Uncle Wiggily didn’t care about that. Baby Bunty might, but he never would.

Soon the rabbit gentleman was at the home of Beckie Stubtail, the little bear girl. As he drew near he heard merry shouts and laughter.

“The children are having a good time,” thought Uncle Wiggily, and so they were. When they knew he was there, Baby Bunty wanted him to come in and play some games. But Mr. Longears said:

“No, Baby Bunty! It is getting late, and I have to stop at Mrs. Wibblewobble’s to get the sugar for Nurse Jane. You may come over again some other time.”

So, Baby Bunty said good night to Beckie Stubtail, and then the little rabbit girl and Uncle Wiggily started back through the dark woods.

“Aren’t you afraid?” asked Baby Bunty.

“Not a bit!” laughed Mr. Longears. He noticed that Bunty hopped close to his side, and did not run on ahead and want him to chase her, as she often did.

It did not take Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty long to get to the duck house, and there Mrs. Wibblewobble had the sugar wrapped up in a paper bag for them. Then, once more, Mr. Longears and Bunty started through the dark woods.

“Oh, what’s that?” suddenly asked the little rabbit girl, stopping and pointing ahead.

“Nothing but an old stump,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Come on!” They went along a little farther, and Baby Bunty all of a sudden cried:

“Oh, look! There’s a giant!”

“Nonsense!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “That’s only a big rock that looks like a giant. Hop along!”

They hopped along a little farther, and, all at once, Baby Bunty gave a backward jump, bunked into Uncle Wiggily so hard that she burst the paper bag, letting the sugar spill out, and she cried:

“Oh, what’s that big, tall, white thing waving its arms at us on the path? Oh, Uncle Wiggily! What is it? What is it?”

Baby Bunty snuggled close up against the rabbit gentleman. Uncle Wiggily looked once, he looked twice and he looked three times at the white thing. Truly it did seem to be waving its arms in the dark. Then Uncle Wiggily laughed.

“Why, that is only a white birch-bark tree, Baby Bunty,” he said. “You mustn’t be afraid of a white birch tree. And I’m glad we came to this one. With some of the loose bark I can make a new bag for the sugar. And I’ll be glad to do it, for the sugar is running down my leg and it tickles like sand at the seashore.”

So Uncle Wiggily made a bag from the white birch bark, put the sugar in it, and he and Baby Bunty were soon safe in the hollow stump bungalow. And if the cough drop doesn’t fall off toadstool and tickle rice pudding under the chin when they’re in the moving pictures, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the little pond.

STORY XIX UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LITTLE POND

Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping along through Woodland near the Orange Ice Mountains, not far from Asbury Grove, where he had built his hollow stump bungalow. Mr. Longears was looking first on one side of the path and then on the other with his pink, twinkling nose.

I mean Uncle Wiggily had his pink nose with him; I don’t mean he was looking with it. Gracious, no! He looked with his eyes.

“Hello, Uncle Wiggily! Are you looking for an adventure?” asked Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel boy, as he scampered up a hickory tree to see if any nuts were growing yet. But it was too early.

“No, I’m not exactly looking for an adventure,” spoke the bunny gentleman. “I want to find Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl who used to live in a hollow stump.”

“Do you want her to chase you and play tag?” asked Johnnie.

“Indeed, I do not!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Baby Bunty is too lively for me! She says she makes me chase her so I won’t get old and stiff. But it’s fun to be sort of restful like once in a while. Now I’m looking for Baby Bunty because Nurse Jane wants her to come and have her paws and face washed for supper. Have you seen her?”

“Do you mean Nurse Jane or Baby Bunty?” asked the squirrel boy, sort of joking like and comical.

“Baby Bunty, of course!” answered Uncle Wiggily. “I know where Nurse Jane is. She’s baking a strawberry long-cake in my hollow stump bungalow. But if you haven’t seen Baby Bunty I must hop along and look in other places.”

So Uncle Wiggily hopped along, and pretty soon he came to the shore of a large pond. On one bank of the pond were growing a number of tall plants, with thick, green leaves.

“Ha! Those are nice plants,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Perhaps they may have seen Baby Bunty pass this way.”

So, understanding the language of flowers, which is about the same as that which is talked by the leaves and vines, Uncle Wiggily asked the green plants if they had seen the little rabbit girl.

“No,” answered one large plant, “we haven’t seen Baby Bunty. We have been so busy trying to shake off a lot of bad, red, biting bugs, on our stalks and leaves, that we haven’t had a chance to look for any one. We wish we could drive the bugs away.”

“I can do that,” kindly offered Uncle Wiggily. “I will drive away the red bugs that are biting your thick, green, glossy leaves. I’ll knock them off with my red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch.”

“Please do!” begged the plants growing on the edge of the big pond.

So Uncle Wiggily drove away the biting bugs by tapping on the green, thick-leaved plants with his crutch, and the plants thanked the rabbit gentleman very much.

“If we can ever do you or any of your friends a favor we shall be glad to,” they said.

Uncle Wiggily hardly thought a plant could ever do you a favor, but just you wait and see. On and on through the woods hopped the rabbit gentleman, until pretty soon he came to a cute little shady dingly dell, and there was Baby Bunty lying on the grass fast asleep. In one paw was her wooden doll—Sarah Jane Sassafras Ricepudding.

“Oh, Bunty! Wake up!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Nurse Jane wants you to come home! It’s nearly supper time!”

Baby Bunty awakened with a start, rubbed her eyes, and then, holding her doll, Matilda Arabella Flapdoodle, in one paw, the little rabbit girl took hold of Uncle Wiggily’s coat tail and back to the hollow stump bungalow they started.

They had not gone very far, and they were hopping toward the big pond of water, when, all of a sudden, out from behind a stump popped the bad old Skuddlemagoon.

“Oh, ho! Now I have you!” cried the Skuddlemagoon.

Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty ran as fast as they could. So did the Skuddlemagoon. Pretty soon Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty came to the big pond.

“Oh, if only this pond were little now,” sighed Uncle Wiggily, “we could jump across it.”

“What good would that do?” asked Baby Bunty.

“Why, once on the other side, we would be safe from the Skuddlemagoon,” answered Uncle Wiggily. “The policeman dog lives on the other side of this pond. But, as it is now, it is too big for us to jump across, and if we have to run all the way around it the bad chap may catch us.”

And then, just as true as I’m telling you, all of a sudden the big pond began to shrink up. It shut its banks close together and became so little that Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty could easily jump across without getting wet.

All the way across the pond they jumped, and, when they were safe on the other side, the little pond suddenly stretched into a big one again and it was so large that the Skuddlemagoon couldn’t jump over.

“Oh, we’re safe, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Bunty. “We’re safe! But what made the big pond get little and then grow big again?”

“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Longears.

Then some voices spoke: “We made the big pond get little for you,” said the green stalks and leaves on the bank. “We shrank and also stretched the pond for you. We are rubber plants, you know, and rubber can stretch and shrink.”

That’s just how it happened. Weren’t those stretchy rubber plants good to Baby Bunty and Mr. Longears? And if the bluebell flower doesn’t ring so late in the morning that the alarm clock gets late for school, and can’t have any sawdust candy for recess, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the funny stump.

STORY XX UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FUNNY STUMP

“Good-by, Uncle Wiggily! Good-by!” called Baby Bunty to Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman, one morning, as he stood on the front porch of his hollow stump bungalow.

“What’s that? ‘Good-by?’ Why, you aren’t going to leave me; are you?” cried Uncle Wiggily. “Are you going to leave me after I found you in the woods, and took care of you and—and all that!”