Little Jack Rabbit's big blue book

“That’s a beautiful poem,” thought Uncle Lucky, looking up from his morning paper as Reddy Comb, the rooster newsboy, strutted away.

Just then Little Jack Rabbit came hopping up the path.

“Let’s make a call on somebody,” suddenly suggested the old gentleman bunny.

“All right, but not on Grandmother Magpie,” answered the bunny boy, climbing into the Luckymobile.

“No, indeed,” replied kind Uncle Lucky. “She’s too meddlesome.”

Quickly turning down a road leading away from the Shady Forest, in which the old lady magpie had her home, they soon came to a little log hut in a cornfield.

“I wonder who lives there,” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. “I never saw that little house before,” and stopping the Luckymobile, he hopped over to the little log hut to knock on the door. The next moment it was opened by their friend, the Scarecrow.

“Well, well, well,” he cried. “I’m glad to see you. Come in and sit down.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” shouted Uncle Lucky to his bunny nephew.

But imagine the old gentleman rabbit’s surprise to find Turkey Tim in the little log hut.

“What, you here!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. All of a sudden poor Turkey Tim began to cry.

“He’s afraid of Thanksgiving,” explained the Scarecrow. “But I’ll hide him here till Spring.”

“Dear, oh, dear!” gasped astonished Uncle Lucky. “I’m glad you’re so kind. Dearest me, I’m flustered! I didn’t know you lived here.”

“To be sure I do now that summer time is over,” answered the Scarecrow. “You don’t think I’d stay out in the cornfield all winter?”

“Yes, what would be the use?” agreed Uncle Lucky. “Besides, you might catch your death of cold.”

“That’s just it,” answered the Scarecrow.

“Come with us,” invited Uncle Lucky. “It’s a beautiful day for a ride. Don’t you think so?”

With a happy smile, the Scarecrow took down his old hat from the wooden peg behind the door and, pinning his coat around him, for the buttons were all gone, you know, told Turkey Tim he’d be back shortly.

As soon as dear Uncle Lucky had honked the horn three times and a half, away they went down to the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy a toothbrush. You see, the Scarecrow had forgotten all about it when moving into the little log hut in the middle of the cornfield.

“And now where shall we go?” asked Uncle Lucky, as the Scarecrow once more seated himself in the Luckymobile, for it hadn’t taken him nearly as long to buy the toothbrush as it had his last Liberty Bond!

“Let’s call on the Tailor Bird. We ought to get measured for our winter overcoats.” So they turned down a road leading to Birdville, a pretty little town not far away. Well, by and by, after a mile and a laugh and a smile, they came to the Tailor Bird’s Shop on the corner of Twitter Avenue and Chirp Street. There on a little bench in front of the store, sat the Tailor Bird himself, although it was the first of November.

No sooner did this in-dus-tri-ous bird see the two little rabbits in the Luckymobile than he began to sing:

And the Tailor Bird made his needle go so fast that Uncle Lucky couldn’t tell on whose overcoat the old bird was sewing buttons.

“I guess I’ll get along with my old one,” said the old gentleman rabbit, and, waving good-by to the Tailor Bird, he soon reached Cottontail Square, where they found a big crowd gathered around the statues of Uncle Sam and Aunt Columbia.

“What’s all this about?” asked the old gentleman, curiously.

“I’ll enquire,” answered the Scarecrow, standing up on the rear seat. Just then a bunny man, carrying in his arms a little boy rabbit, pushed his way out.

“Dear, dear! is he hurt?” anxiously asked dear, kind Uncle Lucky.

“No, no!” shouted back the bunny man. “It’s Tinkle Timmy, the fairy bunny child. He’s only frightened. I’m taking him back to the Fairy Glen.”

“You have a kind heart,” said Uncle Lucky. “Come around to the bank to-morrow. Maybe we need a porter.”

Then away drove the old gentleman bunny. Pretty soon they came to the Farmyard.

“Bow, wow!” barked Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog.

“Come here, I want to whisper in your ear,” said the old gentleman rabbit, leaning out of the Luckymobile.

he whispered to the old watch-dog as he stood on his tip toes.

“Where is his curlicue?” asked Old Sic’em.

“Oh, I mean his bushy tail,” laughed Uncle Lucky, “but as tail doesn’t always rime in poetry I said “cue” instead.”

“All right,” answered Old Sic’em. “I’ll be on the lookout,” and with a wag of his curlicue,—beg pardon, I mean his long thin tail, he said good-by. Then away went the Luckymobile so fast that it nearly ran over a man who mended old tin pails, wash boilers and maybe other things.

“Helloa, there!” shouted Uncle Lucky, “can you mend a hole in my woolen sock?”

“Don’t you poke fun at me,” answered the tin man with a dreadful angry look, “rabbits don’t wear stockings!” But when Uncle Lucky handed him a ten carrot gold piece the tin man began to smile.

Pretty soon the old gentleman bunny spied a great tremendous pumpkin in a cornfield.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky to the Luckymobile, which stopped just like that, only maybe a little quicker. “Let’s take the pumpkin home with us.” But, dear me! how disappointed he was after hopping over the fence. The pumpkin was so heavy that dear Uncle Lucky couldn’t lift it to save his whiskers. Neither could Little Jack Rabbit.

“What shall we do?” asked the little bunny.

All of a sudden the Old Scarecrow, who had been sound asleep all this time, woke up.

“Let me help you,” he said and, jumping out, lifted the pumpkin up in his arms into the Luckymobile without even scratching the shell.

As soon as the Scarecrow was seated, away they went and pretty soon, not so very far, nor so very long, they came to a cross road. Right there stood a big sign post on which was written:

“Gracious me!” cried Little Jack Rabbit. “I don’t know where I’d rather go.”

“I’ll tell you,” said Professor Crow, just then flying by with his little Wisdom Book in his left claw.

and turning to page one, oh, oh! he read aloud:

“Where did you get your wonderful little Wisdom Book?” asked Uncle Lucky, taking off his goggles and scratching his left ear with his right hind foot.

“That’s my secret,” answered the old black bird, with a smile, winking his little black eyes and curling his feathers with his beak.

“I wish I had a Wisdom Book,” went on the old gentleman rabbit. “It’s full of good things.”

“I’ll tell you something since you’re so fond of my little book. I’ve written in it all the good things I’ve heard. You see, when I first bought it at the Three-in-One Cent Store, it was only full of white pages, but now it’s full of wise things,” answered the old crow, glancing up over his spectacles. All of a sudden he took out his fountain pen and shouted: “Listen! I’ve just thought of something:

“Frogs from little Tadpoles grow!”

Then with a bang he closed his book and, snapping his bill, flapped his wings and flew away, but where he went I cannot say.

“Why didn’t we ask him which road to take?” sighed the Scarecrow, looking up at the sign-post. “I don’t know anybody in Lettuce Hill and what’s the use of going to Rabbitville when you two little rabbits are here and not there. I’m sure I don’t want to go to Turnip City. My wife’s mother now lives there and for me she doesn’t care.”

“All right,” laughed kind Uncle Lucky, “let’s go home—the best place of all,” and turning the Luckymobile to the right, after a while, and more than a mile, and maybe a smile, they met a funny Little Donkey with two baskets over his back, one on each side.

“What does he say?” asked Uncle Lucky, making the Luckymobile trot by the side of the Little Donkey as nicely as you please.

“He says: ‘Look out for my heels!’” laughed the little long-eared animal, throwing out his hind legs to show how high he could kick. But, oh, dear me! He should have known better, for out rolled the carrots all over the road.

Out hopped dear Uncle Lucky, kind Little Jack Rabbit and the nice old Scarecrow to help him pick them up. As soon as the baskets were filled and fastened on straight, for they were all wiggly waggly, you know, the Little Donkey said:

“Come in with us,” said kind Uncle Lucky. “We’re going your way.”

Carefully climbing in, the Little Donkey set down the baskets of carrots. Pretty soon on reaching a little green barn he shouted:

“I live right here. Come, stay awhile. Although I live in a barn I have nice things. Besides, I own three Liberty Bonds and a cigar coupon. Oh, yes, I’m a patriotic donkey. My two brothers went to France with the U. S. Army,” and, pointing to a small iron safe in one corner, he added in a whisper, “That’s where I keep my money.”

“You can’t beat me,” said the Scarecrow. And would you believe it? He put his hand in his inside coat pocket and drew out three Liberty Bonds! Yes, sir, he did! “And I’m not going to sell them, either,” he added, pinning his overcoat carefully over his waistcoat.

“If you’ll wait a minute while I put the carrots in the pantry,” said the Little Donkey, “I’ll come back and make you some nice candy.”

At once the little rabbits and the Scarecrow sat down and waited until the Little Donkey returned with some maple sugar, a lemon lollypop and a chocolate caramel. Filling a saucepan with water, he soon had a wonderful candy boiling on the stove. After it was all done he put it down the well to cool, and when it was hard and nice he gave a piece to the little rabbits and another piece to the Scarecrow, who said it was much finer than any he had ever tasted from the Three-in-One Cent Store.

By and by Uncle Lucky, looking at his watch, said it was time to leave and, thanking the Little Donkey for a pleasant time, the old gentleman rabbit hopped into the Luckymobile.

“You can drop me off at the cornfield,” said the Scarecrow. “Turkey Tim must be lonesome by this time.”

And shortly after the two little rabbits were safe at home for the night.