Part 4

"Ha! That is a curious sort of chap," said Uncle Wiggily as he hopped on. "I should like to meet him again, when I have more time to talk to him. But now I must look for my fortune." So he went on looking along the beach in the rain, but never a bit of his fortune could he find.

Now, in a little while, something is going to happen. In fact it's time for it now, so I'll tell you all about it. As Uncle Wiggily was hopping along the beach, where some bushes grew close down to the water, he thought he saw something shining in the sand.

"Perhaps that may be a diamond," he said. "I'll dig it up." So he got a nice pink shell with which to dig, and he set to work, laying aside his toadstool umbrella, and not minding the rain in the least.

Then, all of a sudden, up behind the bushes came sneaking the old fuzzy fox. He had been looking all over for something to eat, but all he could find were hard shell clams, and they were too rough on his teeth, so he couldn't eat them.

"Oh, but there is a soft, delicious morsel!" exclaimed the fox, as he saw Uncle Wiggily digging in the sand, and the fox smacked his lips, and sharpened his teeth on a stone. "Now I will have a good dinner," he added.

So he crept closer and closer to Uncle Wiggily, and the old gentleman rabbit never heard him, for he was busy digging for his fortune.

"Now the thing for me to do," thought the fox, "is to spring out on him before he has a chance to move. And I think I can do it, because his back is toward me, and he can't see."

So the fox got ready to spring right on Uncle Wiggily and maybe carry him off to his den in the woods, and the old gentleman rabbit didn't know a thing about it, but kept on digging for his fortune.

"Here I go!" said the fox to himself, and he crouched down for a spring, just as your kittie does when she plays she is after a mouse. Up into the air leaped the fox, right toward the rabbit. And then, suddenly a voice cried:

"Look out, Uncle Wiggily! Look out!"

The rabbit glanced up, but he was down in the sand hole and he couldn't get out quickly on account of his rheumatism. Right toward him the fox was springing, and then, all at once, the slippery eel--for it was he who had called to the rabbit--the kind eel wiggled up out of the ocean. Up along the beach he crawled quickly, until he was right in front of the rabbit in the hole. Then the eel stretched out like a piece of rope and waited.

And then the fox came down on his four feet, but, instead of landing on Uncle Wiggily he landed right on the slippery eel, and that eel was truly as slippery as a piece of ice. Right out from under him slipped the feet of the old fuzzy fox, and down he fell. Slippery, sloppery, slappery he went, sliding along on the eel until he slid all the way off and plumped into the ocean, where he was nearly drowned, for the water got in his nose and mouth and eyes.

"Now, you can get away, Uncle Wiggily," said the eel, and the rabbit kindly thanked the slippery creature, and grabbed up the shining thing he had dug out of the sand, for he thought it was a diamond. Then the fox slunk away, taking his wet and bushy tail with him, and Uncle Wiggily was safe for that time, anyhow, and the eel wiggled along after the old gentleman rabbit, who thought he had better look for a good place to sleep.

But he soon had another adventure, and I'll tell you what it was on the next page, when, in case the parlor lamp doesn't go out to a moving picture show and melt all the ice in the gas stove, the bedtime story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the horseshoe crab.

STORY XI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE CRAB

"My, that was a narrow escape!" said the rabbit to the slippery eel, after the fuzzy fox had gone away, as I told you in the last story. "I never can thank you enough."

"Oh, that is a mere nothing!" said the slippery eel, as he dug his tail down in the sand, modest-like. "I am always happy to do a kindness for my friends."

"You are certainly slippery," said the rabbit, "as slippery as a rubber doormat on a wet day. But look at this thing which I dug up just before the fox jumped for me. I think it is a diamond, and if it is, I will get rich, and I can go home and see my little rabbit grandchildren, Sammie and Susie Littletail." Then he held out to the slippery eel the shining object he had found in the sand.

"Alas! Alas!" sorrowfully exclaimed the eel, as he looked at the shining thing.

"What's the matter; isn't it a diamond?" asked the rabbit.

Then the slippery eel said this in a sing-song voice:

"Alas, alas, 'Tis only glass. It is no good To eat for food. It will not do For me or you. Throw it away; Some other day Your fortune may Come past your way."

"Ha, I did not know you could make up verses," said the rabbit in surprise.

"I didn't know it, either," answered the eel. "That is the first time I have ever done such a thing," and once more he dug his tail down into the sand, real modest-like and shy.

"Well, if that is only glass, instead of a diamond, I may as well throw it away," said the rabbit.

"Yes," agreed the eel, and with a flip of his tail he sent the glass spinning out into the heaving ocean.

"More bad luck for me," thought the rabbit, but he did not give up, and, bidding good-by to the slippery eel the rabbit set off down the beach to look for his fortune once more.

By this time it had stopped raining and he didn't need the toadstool umbrella, so he stuck it up in the sand in order that the next person who came along might sit under it and get out of the sun.

Well, Uncle Wiggily went on and on. He saw the children in bathing, and building sand houses, and he saw the fishermen going out to sea to catch fishes and lobsters, but still he couldn't see anything of his fortune.

Then, pretty soon, in a little while, not so very long, the old gentleman rabbit came to a place on the sand where there was a little white card. And on the card was some writing, which read:

"DIG HERE AND SEE WHAT YOU CAN FIND."

"Ha, hum! I wonder what that means," thought Uncle Wiggily, as he sat down on the sand to rest himself. "I wonder if that can be a trick?" He had been fooled so many times that he made up his mind to be careful now. So he looked all around, but he couldn't see anything that looked like danger.

To be sure, there were some bushes up on the beach, a little way off, but there seemed to be no one in them. And there was no one on the beach near where the rabbit was.

"I guess I'll take a chance and dig," thought Uncle Wiggily. So he laid aside his valise and crutch and began to dig in the sand with a clam-shell. Deeper and deeper he went down until he began to feel something hard.

"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed. "I guess I'm getting close to it. This must be a chest of gold or diamonds that the pirates or robbers buried in the sand years ago. Now, I'll dig it up and I'll be rich. This is a lucky day for me!"

So he dug deeper and still deeper until he had partly uncovered something black and round. He thought sure it was a chest of gold, and he dug faster and faster, until all of a sudden something slipped in the sand and rolled out into the hole Uncle Wiggily had dug, and, before he knew it, he found himself slipping down and there he was, held fast by one paw, under a big black stone. It was a stone he had found under the sand and not a chest of gold at all.

At first he was too surprised to say or do anything, and then, as his foot began to pain him, he cried out:

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I'm caught in a trap, and I can't get out!"

"No, indeed, you can't get out!" exclaimed a voice at the edge of the hole, and, looking up, the rabbit saw a big wolf.

"Oh, did you put that card there on the sand, telling me to dig?" asked Uncle Wiggily reproachful-like.

"I did," answered the wolf, showing his teeth in a most impolite grin. "I wanted to catch you under the stone and I did. The stone rolled out of the sand when you had dug down deep enough to loosen it, and now you are fast. I'm going to jump down on you presently, and tickle you until your ribs ache."

Well, Uncle Wiggily felt pretty bad on hearing this, and he didn't know what to do. The wolf was getting ready to spring down on him, when, all at once the rabbit heard a voice whispering down to him:

"Say, Uncle Wiggily, you just ask that wolf if he is a good jumper. He'll say he is, and then you ask him if he can jump on top of the round stone he sees on the sand near the hole. He'll say he can, for he is very proud, but, instead of jumping on a stone, he'll jump on me, and then I'll stick him with my sharp tail, and he'll run away. Then I'll help you get loose."

"But who are you?" asked the rabbit, somewhat puzzled.

"I am the horseshoe crab," was the answer. "I'm up here on the sand, and I look just like a stone, and I'll pretend I really am one. The wolf can't understand my talk, so it's safe. You just ask him to jump on me."

So Uncle Wiggily looked up at the wolf, and said:

"Mr. Wolf, since you are going to tickle me anyhow, would you mind showing me what a good jumper you are before you do it?"

"Of course not!" said the wolf, who was very proud of his jumping. "I'll jump anywhere you say, and then I'll jump down and get you."

"Very well," said Uncle Wiggily, slow and sad-like, "just jump on that round stone up there on the beach, will you?"

"I will," said the wolf, and he didn't know that what he thought was a stone was only the horseshoe crab waiting to stick him with his sharp tail.

So the bad wolf gave one big jump up into the air, and down on top of the horseshoe crab he came, and the crab just stuck up his sharp pointed tail, and it tickled that wolf in the ribs so very much that the wolf had to laugh whether he wanted to or not, and he laughed so hard that he had a conniption fit, and so he couldn't get the rabbit.

Then the horseshoe crab dug away the sand around the stone, and helped Uncle Wiggily get his leg out, and the rabbit was safe, and he thanked the crab, and hopped away and the wolf didn't get him after all.

So that's all to-night, if you please, but the next Bedtime Story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the pink shell--that is if the red lobster doesn't pinch the stove's legs and make it dance a hornpipe on top of the washtubs.

STORY XII

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SHELL

Uncle Wiggily was lame the next day after he had been caught under the stone when the wolf nearly got him, and the horseshoe crab had dug him out. You see the stone pressed on his leg that had rheumatism in it, and it hurt the old gentleman rabbit very much.

But he was quite brave, and when he got up in the morning, even though he could hardly limp along, he decided that he would hop down the sandy beach at the seashore and see if he couldn't find his fortune there.

"It is certainly taking me quite a long time to get rich," he said to himself as he slowly moved along over the soft sand, "and perhaps I may never find any diamonds or gold. But no matter, I am enjoying myself, and that is something. Still, I would like to see Sammie and Susie Littletail again."

And when he thought of the two little rabbit children he was a bit sad. Then he decided that would never do, so he cheered himself up by singing a little song that went something like this:

"Don't be sad, Just be glad, For the sun is shining. Don't be blue, For it's true Clouds have silver lining.

"Sing and dance, Hop and prance, Make some one feel jolly, Go 'way, care, Don't you dare Make me melancholy."

"Ha, hum! I feel much better after that," said Uncle Wiggily, and he moved his whiskers sideways and up and down, and twinkled his nose, and then he went on looking for his fortune.

Pretty soon he came to a big snail that was crawling slowly along the beach.

"Have you seen any gold?" asked the rabbit.

"No, I am sorry to say I have not," said the snail, slowly and carefully. "But I have not gone very far this morning. I have only traveled about as far as from one orange seed to another, and that is not very far, you know. Perhaps later I may find some gold."

"Then have you seen any diamonds?" asked Uncle Wiggily.

"No, but I saw a dewdrop inside a flower sparkling in the sunshine," said the snail, "and it was brighter than a diamond."

"That is very pretty, but it is not my fortune," said the rabbit. "I must keep on." So on he went, singing his jolly song, and he kept humming it, even when the sun went behind a cloud, and it looked as if it were going to storm. The waves of the ocean grew into big billows, and they dashed up on the beach with a booming, thundering sound.

"I think we are going to have a shower," said the old gentleman rabbit. "I must look about for another toadstool umbrella." So he found one growing in the grass a little distance from the water, and he picked it. Then, strapping his valise over his shoulder, he hopped ahead, leaning on his crutch.

Pretty soon, not so very long, it began to rain. My! how the drops did come pelting down, harder and harder, but Uncle Wiggily didn't get wet because of his toadstool umbrella. And then, before you could eat a stick of peppermint candy, something hard hit the old gentleman rabbit on the nose.

"Ha! My umbrella must be leaking!" he cried. Then there came a flash of lightning, and a loud clap of thunder, and something else hit Uncle Wiggily on the end of his nose.

"Oh, I hope I'm not struck by lightning!" he cried. So he looked up, and he saw that his toadstool umbrella was full of holes, and the reason of this was that it was hailing instead of raining. The rain drops had turned into little round chunks of ice, just like white pebbles, and they were pelting down, and had torn the rabbit's umbrella all to pieces.

"Whatever shall I do?" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he tossed aside the toadstool. "That is of no use to me now, and there is no place where I can go to get in out of the rain. Oh, my! How those hailstones hurt!" And indeed they did, for they were as large as bird's eggs now, and they were bouncing down all over, and hitting Uncle Wiggily on his ears and nose and all over.

He tried to hold his crutch over his head, but that did no good, and then he tried to hold up his valise with the cherry pie in it to shelter himself, but that did no good, either.

"Oh, I'll be knocked to pieces by the hailstones!" the rabbit cried. "Where can I go? Oh, if I only had a shell house such as the snail carries on her back, I would be all right."

"Here is a house for you!" cried a little voice, and looking to one side Uncle Wiggily saw his old friend the grasshopper, and that grasshopper was beneath a big pink shell that was on the beach, with one edge raised up like a shed. "Crawl under the shell, and the hailstone can't hurt you!" went on the hoppergrass. "This pink shell is the best kind of a house."

"Well, I do declare--so it is!" agreed Uncle Wiggily, and he lost no time in crawling under the pink shell which was just the color of baby's cheeks. Then how the hailstones did rattle down on that shell! It was just like peas or dried corn falling into a tin pan. Rattle-te-bang! Rattle-te-bang! went the hailstones, but they couldn't hurt the grasshopper or Uncle Wiggily now, for the chunks of ice hit on the hard shell and burst to pieces.

Then, all of a sudden Uncle Wiggily heard some one crying. Oh, it was such a sad, pitiful voice.

"Oh, what shall I do? Where can I go?" wailed the voice.

"Some one needs help," said the rabbit quickly.

"Maybe it's a bear," suggested the hoppergrass.

"Nonsensicalness!" exclaimed the rabbit. "I'm going to look out." So he peered out from under the edge of the big pink shell, and he saw a little baby crab crawling along with a basket of seapeanuts in little bags on one claw.

"Oh, I'm so miserable!" cried the little crab. "I started out to sell peanuts, but the hailstones burst the bags open, and the peanuts came out and they're all wet, and no one will buy wet peanuts. What shall I do?"

"Come right in here," said Uncle Wiggily kindly. "We'll help you." So the little crab crawled beneath the pink shell, where the hailstones couldn't hit him, and when the storm was over the old gentleman rabbit and the grasshopper built a fire, and they dried out the peanuts. Then the grasshopper took some of his molasses and he glued the torn bags together, and Uncle Wiggily put back the dry peanuts in them, and then the little crab went off very happy, indeed, and sold them for a penny a bag.

"Ha! The pink shell did us a great kindness," said the old gentleman rabbit, as he hopped out. "Now I will look once more for my fortune." Then the grasshopper flew away over the sea again and the rabbit went on alone, eating a few peanuts the baby crab had given him.

And he soon had another adventure. What it was I'll tell you soon, for the story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the fiddler--that is, if the piano stool doesn't turn into a merry-go-'round and whirl about so fast that it makes the milk bottle dizzy.

STORY XIII

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE FIDDLER

It was the day after Uncle Wiggily had taken shelter under the pink shell when the hailstones came down, and the old gentleman rabbit was walking along the sandy beach, looking to see what he could see.

"You never can tell when you are going to find your fortune in this world," he said, "and I may come upon mine any moment. So I must be ready for it." Then he went on a little farther, and he felt hungry. "Perhaps there is a bit of cherry pie still in my valise," he said. So he looked, and, sure enough, there was some pie, and he ate it.

It was nearly all gone, and there were only a few crumbs of the pie left, when the old gentleman rabbit heard some one say:

"Oh, how hungry I am! Oh, if I only had something to eat. I wonder where I can find anything?"

Then the rabbit looked down, and there was the slow-crawling snail, looking very hungry indeed.

"Oh, ho! So it's you, is it?" asked the rabbit. "Why, it seems to me you are not very far from the place where I last saw you."

"That is so, I am not," answered the snail. "You see I go very slowly and in a whole day I only moved about as far as an ice-cream cone. I have been looking for something to eat, but I can't find it."

"Oh, I'll gladly give you what I have left," spoke Uncle Wiggily, as he scattered the crumbs of the cherry pie about, and the snail ate them all up.

"I don't s'pose you have seen anything of my fortune, have you?" asked the rabbit, as he wiped his whiskers on a red napkin, and closed up his valise.

"No, I haven't," said the snail. "But I will tell you something I overheard to-day and perhaps that will help you. As I was crawling slowly along I heard two sand fleas talking together. One said to the other that there was going to be a grand dance of all the sand fleas on the beach to-night and that there would be plenty of gold and diamonds at the party. Perhaps if you went to it you might find your fortune--that is, if some one had any gold or diamonds they didn't want."

"That's a good idea," said the rabbit. "I'll be there, and I'm much obliged to you for telling me. Where do the sand fleas hold their dance?"

"Down on the beach by the wreck of the old sailing ship," answered the snail. "Be there at the hour of midnight, and I hope you will find your fortune."

"I'll be there," said the rabbit. "Oh, I'll be there."

Then the snail crawled away, and Uncle Wiggily hopped along on the sand, but he didn't look for his fortune as he thought he would find it at the fleas' party.

"Since I am going to be up quite late to-night," he said, "I had better take a little sleep now." So he stretched out under some seaweed that he laid over some driftwood for a shady shelter and soon he was fast asleep. Then, after a while, he awakened and ate his supper and soon it was midnight, and he set off toward the place where the wreck of the old ship was on the beach, for there the sand fleas were to have their hop and dance.

As he came near the place, the old gentleman rabbit heard laughter and talking, and he saw tiny lights flitting about. Then he came still nearer, and he saw a most curious sight. All around in the sand were little pieces of wood, set in a circle, and on each piece of wood was a lightning bug. They lighted up the place like small electric lanterns.

There was a large circle of sand, and inside of that was the ballroom where the dance was to take place. It was all decorated with seaweed and moss, and it looked very pretty with lightning bugs scattered here and there in the green drapery like fairy lights.

And then the sand fleas! Oh, there were hundreds of them, and they were hopping all about, sometimes over each other's backs and around corners and through the middle, while some even turned somersaults, and they were having a glorious time.

"I wonder when the dance is going to begin?" thought Uncle Wiggily. "I wish it would soon start, for I see that these fleas have on many diamonds, and they also have lots of gold in their pockets. Perhaps, when they dance they will drop some of the gold and diamonds, and, in case they don't want them, I can pick them up and have them for my fortune."

Then, all of a sudden, some of the fleas began to cry out:

"Where is the music? Why doesn't the music start, so that we can dance?"

And surely enough, there was no music for the party. Then a big gray flea called out:

"Alas, and lack-a-day! We will have no music! I had hired a dozen Katy-Dids and a dozen Katy-Didn'ts to come and play for us, but they have just telephoned that they can't come, as their legs are stiff. So we can have no dance, as we have no music."

"Oh, how perfectly dreadful!" cried a blue lady flea.

And just then some of the other fleas saw Uncle Wiggily looking in at them from behind the old wrecked ship.

"Perhaps the rabbit can play for us," said some of the fleas. "Can you, Mr. Rabbit?"

"No, I can't," he said, and he felt very sorry for them. "But I will see if I can find some one who can," for Uncle Wiggily was very kind-hearted, and always did what he could to help.

So he strolled down the beach looking for some one to play for the sand fleas. And as he walked along he met a fiddler crab, which is a crab with very long legs. And as soon as he saw that fiddler crab Uncle Wiggily knew that the long-legged creature could make music.

"Will you come and play for the fleas' party?" asked the rabbit. "I will make a fiddle out of my crutch and some seaweed for strings, and you can play it."

"I will," said the fiddler crab, kindly, "but who will play the drum? We need a drum. Who will play it?"

"I would if I had a drum," said the rabbit, bravely.

"I'll be the drum," suddenly cried a voice, and up from the ocean popped a fish called the puff fish or sea robin, and he can make himself look like a blown-up paper bag full of wind. "I'll be the drum and you can make me go 'Boom! Boom!'" said the blow-fish.

"Fine!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Come on back to the sand fleas' party with me." So the fiddler crab and the drum fish went along. Then the rabbit soon made a fiddle, with seaweed for strings, and the fiddler crab played it with his long legs, making tunes like "Please Buy Me an Ice-Cream Cone and Take Me on the Merry-go-'Round."

And the drum fish puffed himself up like a balloon, and Uncle Wiggily beat him with a soft stick, and there was fine music. Then the sand fleas hopped and danced about until they could hop and dance no more.