BUNNY TALE 28
THE VISIT
You see, we often grow tired of the same old thing. Our roller skates are put aside, our bat and ball don’t interest us; we don’t wish to even run about and look for a good time. And that’s just the way Little Jack Rabbit felt. So, what did he do? Well, he didn’t do anything till Lady Love, his patient bunny rabbit mother, suggested that he read a book.
“What shall I read?” he asked, wiggling his little pink nose as much as to say, “I’d rather eat a lollypop.” But his mother didn’t notice his twinkling nose,—or, if she did, she merely overlooked it.
“Yes, why don’t you read a book,” she repeated. “Books are like friends, sometimes they teach us things, sometimes they amuse us, and sometimes——”
She had no need to finish her sentence, for the little rabbit boy had hopped over to the bookshelf.
After looking over the row of pretty books he picked out one that was called:
“Bunny Boy’s Cracker Animals.”
“That sounds interesting,” said the little rabbit boy to himself, and, hopping into a chair, he began to read:
“Once upon a time there lived a Bunny Boy Rabbit who had a little knapsack in which he kept animal crackers. Now this little bunny boy was so fond of his cracker animals that he never could bear to bite off a head or an ear, or a trunk or a tail. By and by his knapsack became so full that it could hold no more. And then something happened. As he hopped along one day he thought to himself, ‘What a racket those Animal Crackers are making in my knapsack. Maybe they are trying to get out.’
“Well, that’s just what they were doing. And all of a sudden, quicker than a wink, the knapsack burst open and
“‘Come back, come back!’ shouted the bunny boy rabbit.
“‘No, siree!’ answered the Animal Crackers, ‘we’re going back to our little Cracker Boxes!’ and away they went, leaving the Bunny Boy Rabbit to fill his knapsack with clover tops or lettuce leaves.”
“Now what shall I do?” cried Little Jack Rabbit.
“Why not visit Uncle John Hare? I’ll pack your clothes in a jiffy,” suggested the little bunny’s mother, looking up from her ironing.
Pretty soon along came the Old Dog Driver with his billy goat team.
“I shall miss you,” said Lady Love, kissing her bunny boy, as he hopped into the carriage.
“Goodness gracious meebus, if that isn’t my little bunny nephew!” shouted dear Uncle Lucky, as the carriage stopped by Lily Pond Lake.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to Uncle John Hare,” answered Little Jack Rabbit. “I’ve a package for him and my knapsack is packed full of clothes. Mother bought me a new tie.”
“What, are you going to make a visit?” asked dear Uncle Lucky, anxiously. He never could keep away very long from his little rabbit nephew. Dear me, no! Uncle Lucky was so fond of Little Jack Rabbit that he wanted to be with him all the time, and even oftener.
“Dear me,” went on poor Uncle Lucky, a lonely feeling spreading all over him from his toes to his head, “I’ll miss you dreadfully.”
“That’s what mother said this morning when she kissed me good-by,” answered Little Jack Rabbit.
“Don’t blame her,” said the old gentleman bunny.
“She said something else, too,” added his little rabbit nephew.
“What was it?” asked dear Uncle Lucky.
“She told me to say every morning when I hopped out of bed, ‘Every day and in every way, I grow better and better.’”
“Don’t forget to do what mother says,” advised Uncle Lucky. “Do what mother says and you’ll never be sorry.”
“Once upon a time,” she began.
“Can’t wait much longer,” shouted the Old Dog Driver, knocking the ashes from his pipe. Then, picking up the lines, he clicked git-ap to his billy goats and away rattled the carriage.
“I wish Uncle Lucky were coming, too,” sighed Little Jack Rabbit, as they bumped along over the rough road.
The knapsack burst open
“What did you say, little bunny?” asked a motherly looking lady goose, one of the passengers on her way to Goose Creek, Meadowland.
“Oh, I was just thinking aloud,” answered the little bunny boy rabbit. “But what’s the use of wishing? Wishes don’t come true.”
“Sometimes they do,” laughed the nice, kind lady goose, placing her soft feathered wing around him. “I once had an old grandmother goose who told me stories. I haven’t forgotten them. Oh, my, no! I told them to a man and he put them all in a book called “Grandmother Goosey’s Bedtime Rimes”!
“Tell me one,” said Little Jack Rabbit, sleepily.
“Once upon a time,” began the kind lady goose, but before she could say another word the bunny boy was sound asleep.
By and by the Old Dog Driver shouted, “Turnip City! All out!”
Sure enough, it was Turnip City! Just across Lettuce Square on the front porch of his pretty white house stood Uncle John Hare and behind him in the doorway, Mrs. Daisy Duck, his nice old housekeeper.
“Good-by,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, taking off his cap to the Old Lady Goose. Then away he hopped across the square and up the walk that led from the little white gate to the front piazza of Uncle John’s neat little bungalow.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” cried the nice old gentleman bunny, patting his small nephew on the head.
“And so am I,” quacked Mrs. Daisy Duck. “Now there’ll be somebody young and frisky in the house.”
“What, am I growing so old?” asked Uncle John Hare, hopping about on the piazza with Little Jack Rabbit.
“I feel only twenty-one.”
he sang, smiling at his small bunny nephew.
sang Mrs. Daisy Duck.
“It’s down by the Old Duck Pond,” whispered Uncle John Hare. “Mrs. Daisy Duck thinks I don’t know, but one day I hop-tiptoed after her. Don’t tell her, I think she has a nest in her little shack. Maybe someday there’ll be a brood of ducklings.”
“What are you whispering about?” asked the old lady duck, with a quack and a flap of her wings. “Secrets?”
“Maybe,” answered the old gentleman bunny. “Or, perhaps, advice. Give you three guesses.”
“Haven’t time,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, bustling out to the kitchen to look at the lollypop stew and carrot cake. “I must think about supper.”
“Come to your own little room,” said Uncle John Hare, leading the way up the winding stair. His little rabbit nephew followed, his knapsack swinging over his shoulder and his striped candy cane dangling from his elbow.
“There,” exclaimed the dear old gentleman hare, throwing open the door, “nothing has been changed except the calendar. Every day I tore off the date, saying to myself, ‘Perhaps to-morrow he’ll come again to visit his old uncle.’ It came true this morning, so it did,” and with a happy sigh the loving old bunny hare sat down in the rocking chair.
“Yes, your little room has been kept just the same for you,” he went on, “and you must make a long, long visit this time.”
“Oh, I will,” answered Little Jack Rabbit, with a laugh. “Mother said I might stay as long as you wanted me.”
“Well, that won’t be long enough,” answered Uncle John Hare. “Come, part your hair down the middle of your back and wash your paws for supper. I smell the lollypop stew.”
It took little Jack Rabbit less than two and a half minutes to make himself spick and span. Then with a hop, skip and a jump he followed his nice old Uncle to the dining room where Mrs. Daisy Duck had a lovely supper waiting for them.
Perhaps you’d like to hear what was on the table. Lots of little boys and girls don’t know what rabbits eat, I imagine. Well, there was carrot cake and lettuce marmalade, carrot jelly and turnip tea, lollypop stew and cabbage custard. A mighty nice sort of a supper for anybody, seems to me.
Just as they were finishing the cabbage custard there came a loud knocking at the front door.
“Who can it be?” asked Uncle John Hare.
“I’ll soon find out,” answered Mrs. Daisy Duck, waddling out of the room with her napkin under her left wing.
“Is Mr. John Hare at home?” inquired a loud voice.
“Yes, I’m here,” answered the old gentleman bunny, hopping out into the hall. But when he saw who was calling he wished he had hidden in the cellar. There stood the Ragged Rabbit Giant. You could see only the tops of his boots, for they were as high as the front door. Why, his waistcoat was even with the roof of the little white house and his gold chain tinkled against the red brick chimney every time he leaned down to speak to Mrs. Daisy Duck.
“What can I do for you?” asked Uncle John Hare, as soon as he had caught his breath. “I’d invite you into supper, only you couldn’t accept. Maybe you’d like me to hand you out a cabbage cup custard. Mrs. Daisy Duck is quite famous for her cabbage cup custards.”
“No, I don’t want any custard,” answered the Ragged Rabbit Giant. “I don’t like sweet things. Have you a cabbage leaf cigar?”
“Wait a minute. I think I have,” answered the old gentleman hare in a trembly voice, hopping back into the sitting room.
Pretty soon the giant grew restless. He shuffled his big feet, looked at his watch and then all of a sudden shouted, “Hurry up with that cabbage leaf cigar. I could have walked to Cuba in my seven league boots by this time for a good Smokerino.”
Dear, dear me! I’ve been dreadfully worried while dear Uncle John Hare has been hunting for a cabbage leaf cigar for fear he wouldn’t be able to find it. I don’t know what I’d do if a Ragged Rabbit Giant was waiting outside my little white house on the corner of Lettuce Square and Turnip Street, Turnip City.
“I’ve found it,” answered poor Uncle John Hare, hopping out with Little Jack Rabbit to the front porch.
“Bless my stars!” exclaimed the giant, looking at the little bunny boy as he lighted the cigar, “if this isn’t Lady Love’s little rabbit. Howdy, young bunny. I must be going home. Good-by. Come to see me soon,” and away stalked the big rabbitman in his seven league boots to his castle on Tip Top, Sky-high Mountain, under the stars, for it would be night-time when he arrived home, although he could cover almost a mile every time he took a stride, and when he jumped,—dear me, I can’t figure how much space he covered,—maybe three times a mile.
“Well, I’m glad he’s gone,” said Mrs. Daisy Duck from her hiding place. “I declare, my heart beat so loudly I mistook it for the Old Grandfather Clock. Dear, dearie me! I don’t like such great big bunny men. Little ones are nicer,” and hugging Little Jack Rabbit, she gave him a cough drop from a little box she carried in her calico apron pocket.
By and by, after Uncle John Hare had finished smoking his cabbage leaf cigar, he said to his small nephew:
“Let’s have a game of pinochle.”
But, goodness me! The little rabbit was so drowsy that he could hardly keep his eyes open and pretty soon he let all the cards drop to the floor.
“Hoity toity!” exclaimed Uncle John Hare, looking up. But when he saw that the Sand Man had filled his nephew’s eyes with Dream Dust he covered up the little bunny boy and let him sleep where he was until morning.