Little Jack Rabbit's big blue book

“It’s growing cold! I must turn up my coat collar,” said Little Jack Rabbit, hopping out on the Sunny Meadow. He had just finished polishing the front doorknob and maybe his little pink nose was pinker than usual. Maybe Jack Frost had pinched it when the little bunny boy wasn’t looking.

It certainly was cold out on the Sunny Meadow! Billy Breeze was romping over the frosty grass, bending the leafless bushes and trees.

Turkey Tim strutted about the Old Barnyard, spreading his big tail like a Japanese fan.

sang Cocky Doodle trying to pull down his feather knickerbockers. But he couldn’t. Neither could he pull up his feather stockings. Dear me! again. Wasn’t that too bad? Well, I should say so, although I’ve seen lots of little boys and girls with bare legs in the winter time.

“Bow wow!” went Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, tugging at his chain, as Little Jack Rabbit hopped around the Big Red Barn.

“Now, that will do,” said Mrs. Cow, quite provoked, “it’s so long since you were spanked you’ve forgotten you were once a puppy boy dog.”

“Ha! ha!” laughed Little Jack Rabbit, “now will you be good, Old Sic’em?” But the old dog crept into his little wooden house with never an answer.

Just then Little Jack Rabbit spied Old Man Weasel under the woodpile.

“Oh, dear me!” said the little bunny to himself, “what shall I do?”

“Don’t be frightened,” chirped little Bobbie Redvest from the Old Rail Fence. “Old Man Weasel won’t dare show himself for here comes the Big Kind Farmer.”

Sure enough, there he stood with a milk pail on his arm. So away hopped Little Jack Rabbit to the Old Duck Pond to see Granddaddy Bullfrog, the nice old gentleman frog in his white waistcoat and gold rimmed spectacles.

“I’ll soon be going down to the warm mud at the bottom of the pond,” said the old fellow, with a shiver. “I can’t stand this snappy weather. Guess I’ll start now,” and with a dive off his log, he disappeared beneath the water.

“Good-by!” called out the little bunny boy, hopping home to the warm little bungalow in the Old Bramble Patch.

The next morning the Sunny Meadow was as white as Lady Love’s best tablecloth and just as smooth, for it had snowed all night, the snowflakes falling so softly that no one had even dreamed of what was happening.

After breakfast Little Jack Rabbit pulled on his nice warm mittens.

“Don’t forget your muffler,” warned his careful mother. Then filling his knapsack with little lettuce flour cakes, she kissed him good-by.

As he hopped along he began to sing:

“That’s a fine song,” cawed Professor Crow from his Tall Pine Tree house.

“Drop me an ice cream pine cone,” laughed the little bunny. But the selfish old bird instead threw a snowball, hitting the little rabbit on the tip of his tail.

Off he hopped, for he wasn’t going to have snowballs thrown at him. No, sireeman. And pretty soon, not so very far, he met Brownie Mink creeping along by the Old Duck Pond.

“I must be very careful these days,” he whispered. “People wear fur in the winter time and that dreadful Miller’s boy may set a trap. If it catches me I’ll be a muff instead of a little mink.”

“They set traps for me, too!” answered the little bunny. “Besides, I must look out for Danny Fox and Old Man Weasel. And sometimes, and maybe oftener, for Robber Hawk. You’re not the only one who has to look out for himself.”

All of a sudden the little rabbit felt hungry and, opening his knapsack, handed a lollypop to Brownie Mink. But what the bunny boy ate will take too long to tell.

“The next time you pass the Old Bramble Patch I’ll ask Uncle Lucky to take us sledmobiling,” he said, buckling on his knapsack.

“Hurray!” shouted the little mink, tickled almost to pieces. He’d never ridden in a sledmobile and neither have I, and neither have you, but we may some day if we happen to be around when Uncle Lucky passes by.

sang Sammy Snowbird from a little bush in the Sunny Meadow, knowing how hungry Danny Fox was now that the ground was covered with a white carpet. Up at the Old Barn Yard the chickens huddled inside the warm hen house and old Danny Fox couldn’t find even a feather near the Big Red Barn.

“I’ll keep a bright lookout, never fear,” laughed the bunny boy, and he hopped away into the Shady Forest. By and by he met a big Snow Man. Wasn’t it strange to find a Snow Man in the Shady Forest? Well, I guess it was, and the little rabbit thought so, too. All of a sudden two little bears ran out of a cave and shouted: “We did it.”

“It’s a fine Snow Man,” answered the little bunny and, taking a lemon lollypop out of his knapsack, he pushed the stick into the Snow Man’s mouth. It seemed as if he were smoking a lollypop pipe. But not for long, let me tell you. No, sireeman and no, siree, Mister! For in a jiffy those two little bears took it away from the poor Snow Man, and ate it up, stick and all.

“Ha, ha!” laughed the little rabbit, and, being a generous little bunny, he took another out of his knapsack. “Take it home to your little sister.” But the two bears didn’t have any sister, only an old aunt who didn’t like candy.

After that the little bunny hopped away. By and by he saw a great icicle hanging from a rock in the Bubbling Brook. Now Mr. Merry Sun was doing his best to melt it, but Mr. North Wind blew so cold that all Mr. Merry Sun could do was to paint it all sorts of colors, green and red, yellow and purple. “It looks like a stick of candy,” thought the little rabbit, breaking it off.

“I’ll fool somebody with it,” and away he hopped, singing:

By and by he came to the Shady Forest Pond. Of course it was all frozen over with a thick coating of ice. Only the top of Mister Muskrat’s house could be seen, in the upper bedroom of which, high and dry, Mister Muskrat himself lay sound asleep.

Sliding out on the ice, the little rabbit knocked on the roof. But he never saw the frightened Muskrat swim out in the water. Oh, dear, no. The ice was too thick for that, although Mister Muskrat could hear the little rabbit sliding about overhead.

“I must wait until Springtime to find out who called,” thought Mister Muskrat, swimming over to his other hiding place among the roots of the Old Chestnut Tree in which Old Barney Owl had built his little wooden house in a big hollow limb.

And wasn’t it strange? Mister Muskrat never got the least bit wet as he swam through the water. You see his thick fur overcoat is waterproof.

“I have few friends in the wintertime,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit. “Timmie Chipmunk is fast asleep in his little warm house. So is Woody Chuck. And Granddaddy Bullfrog and Teddy Turtle are dreaming away in the soft warm mud at the bottom of the Old Duck Pond. I’ll be glad when warm weather comes.”

Just then who should pop out of his little snow tunnel, for by this time the little rabbit was on the Sunny Meadow, but Timmie Meadowmouse. He wasn’t afraid of little bunnies, you know, nor squirrels, nor chipmunks, but always kept his eyes open for Danny Fox, and Old Man Weasel, who are always skulking around, or for Hungry Hawk, who is often flying up in the sky.

“I’ve been playing hide and seek all day,” laughed Timmie Meadowmouse.

“Who with?” inquired Little Jack Rabbit anxiously, wiggling his little pink nose to catch the first scent of danger.

“Oh, with Danny Fox,” replied the little meadowmouse. “But, you see, he didn’t catch me.”

sang Charlie Chickadee.

Dear me! That little bird must have known that danger was lurking near.

shouted Squirrel Nutcracker from his Tree Top House.

Away went Little Jack Rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip! No, he didn’t, either. He went slipperty slip! Slipperty slip! Just like that, only faster.

“I’ll catch you yet,” growled Danny Fox.

“Not yet,” gasped the little bunny boy.

“Pretty soon,” whined the old fox.

“Never and never,” replied the bunny boy bravely. “Mother shan’t lose her little rabbit, not if I can help it!” and away he went, faster than before, and lots faster than behind. And in less time than I can take to tell it he was safely over the little picket fence around the dear Old Bramble Patch. You see, he couldn’t wait to unlatch the gate, but gave a hop-tee-idy right over it. The next minute Lady Love had pulled him in and slammed the kitchen door.

sang the Canary Bird. Then Little Miss Cricket chirped and the Three Grasshoppers fiddled pretty music.