Little Jack Rabbit's big blue book

Was some one knocking on the door of Uncle Lucky’s little white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot St., Rabbitville, U.S.A.? Well, I guess yes, three times. Maybe somebody has been knocking ever since Bobbie Redvest told me that a bad attack of rheumatism prevents the dear old gentleman rabbit from hearing unpleasant news. Well, anyway, when Uncle Lucky opened the door who do you think was standing on the mat? You’d never guess, not even if I told you he wore rubber boots and held a green umbrella in his hand.

It was Daddy Longlegs—yes, sir, that’s who it was.

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, “are you wet?”

“Soaked to the skin,” replied the shivering, rubber-booted, long-legged insect. “Let me sit by the kitchen stove and warm myself. Maybe I’ll get dry in an hour or so.”

“Come right in!” cried dear, kind Uncle Lucky, leading the way into the kitchen where little Miss Mousie, the dear old gentleman rabbit’s tiny housekeeper, was drying the breakfast dishes.

sang Uncle Lucky, helping Daddy Longlegs pull off his rubber boots.

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman insect, stretching out his cold, damp toes:

“Turn around once in a while,” replied Uncle Lucky, “that’s what I do!”

“Don’t set your coat tails on fire,” advised Little Miss Mousie, as she nibbled a piece of angel cake.

Pretty soon, the Old Red Rooster came in with the Bunnybridge Bugle, the nice morning paper that dear Uncle Lucky loves to read when breakfast is over.

Taking out a cabbage leaf cigar, he slipped his feet into his comfortable woolen slippers and, placing his gold-rimmed spectacles on his nose, sat down in his big arm chair.

By this time Daddy Longlegs was nice and dry, so he, too, sat down to read by the fire, and Little Miss Mousie, seeing that nobody wished to talk, scampered back to her little house in the corner of the sitting room. As for the Old Red Rooster, he hurried out to the barn to mend the old wheelbarrow.

Pretty soon, Uncle Lucky fell asleep and when he woke up, Mr. Merry Sun was shining and Daddy Longlegs had gone.

“Oh, dear and oh, dear!” sighed dear Uncle Lucky, taking out his gold watch and chain, “I wonder what time it is.”

Then he sighed again and looked out of the window. But the postman wasn’t in sight, only the Old Red Rooster raking up the leaves.

“Well, well, well!” sighed lonely Uncle Lucky, for the third time, “what shall I do?”

“Sing a song,” suggested Little Miss Mousie, peeking out of her small front door in the far corner of the sitting room.

“Sing us two songs,” shouted the Old Red Rooster through the open window.

So down at the piano sat kind Uncle Lucky, and, after running his paws over the keys, commenced:

Then up jumped dear, tender-hearted Uncle Lucky, and wiping the tears in his left eye, took down his old wedding stovepipe hat and carefully dusted it off with his blue silk polkadot handkerchief.

All of a sudden the telephone bell began to ring.

“Who’s calling me?” inquired the old gentleman bunny, taking down the receiver and holding it up to his left ear.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said the next moment. “Well, I don’t want to talk to you—no, I don’t. You make me cross,” and with that Uncle Lucky hung up the receiver and hopped back to his big comfortable armchair.

“Who was it?” asked Little Miss Mousie, running across the floor to the piano stool, up which she climbed. Then, smoothing her bobbed hair, she smiled sweetly at the old gentleman bunny.

“Chatterbox, the red squirrel,” answered Uncle Lucky. “He has a funny story to tell me, but my rheumatism won’t listen to anything, so I excused myself. Dear me, how my little left hind toe aches. I must be careful or I’ll be full of crossness.”

“You’ll never be full of anything but kindness,” replied Little Miss Mousie, arranging the cushions in the big armchair. And she spoke the truth, don’t you think so, dear little girls and boys?

But poor Uncle Lucky couldn’t fall asleep again, nor could he eat the nice luncheon which Little Miss Mousie brought in on a silver tray.

By and by, after smoking a cabbage-leaf cigar, he said with a sigh, “I guess I’ll play a tune; maybe I’ll sing another song,” and hopping over to the piano, he turned the little stool around three times and a half, and commenced to sing:

“Heigh ho, how the years go!” sighed the old gentleman rabbit and, taking out his gold watch and chain, he suddenly exclaimed: “Goodness gracious meebus! It’s almost time for the wedding!”

Quickly putting on his old wedding stovepipe hat, he hopped out of his little house.

You see, his dear bunny niece, pretty Lady Love, had decided to get married and settle down in the Old Bramble Patch. Perhaps that’s why Uncle Lucky sang the song about the pretty rabbit queen.

And now I’ll tell you about the wedding. All the Shady Forest folk were there, of course, and so were the Sunny Meadow people.

Old Mrs. Bunny had put her house in apple-pie order, and after the wedding in the Shady Forest, and Parson Owl had given Lady Love, the pretty little lady bunny, to Mr. Rabbit to care for all the rest of his life, everybody started back to the Old Bramble Patch. Goodness me, it was a long procession! Squirrel Nutcracker, the Big Brown Bear, Granddaddy Bullfrog, Grandmother Magpie, Busy Beaver, Sammy Skunk, the Old Brown Horse, Mrs. Grouse, Chippy Chipmunk, the Stage Coach Dog, the Old Red Rooster, the Yellow Dog Tramp, the Policeman Dog, Old Barney Owl, the Circus Elephant, the sure-footed little Mountain Goat, and all the Barnyard Folk. Everybody was anxious to see the little house that dear Uncle Lucky had built for Lady Love.

Well, when they all reached the Old Bramble Patch, there stood dear Uncle Lucky on the front porch, his old wedding stovepipe hat in his front paw and his big diamond horseshoe pin in his pink cravat. Yes, sir, there he stood, bowing and smiling just as if it were his own wedding day and not somebody else’s, as Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love hopped up the path and into the house to stand under a big horseshoe wreath of clover and shake hands with all their friends.

Just as everybody had finished looking at the wedding presents, and dear Uncle Lucky was saying, “Bless you, my children!” Danny Fox peeped into the window and shouted: “Don’t be frightened! Here’s a diamond necklace for Lady Love.” Then away he ran, knowing that nobody wanted him around; for he is a dreadful robber, you know, and robbers aren’t invited to a wedding. They come later to

At last, when the lollypop juice was all gone, and the grasshopper orchestra tired of playing, somebody called on Uncle Lucky for a song.

sang the old gentleman rabbit, wiping a tear from his left eye with his blue silk polkadot handkerchief. Then kissing the bride good-by, he stopped for a moment to hang up an old horseshoe on the front porch and then led the guests away, leaving pretty Lady Love and Mr. Rabbit to fill the little white bungalow with happiness in the years to come.

By and by a little rabbit boy came to make their dream come true. As soon as the glad news was telephoned to dear Uncle Lucky, that happy old gentleman rabbit hopped into his Luckymobile and started off as fast as a comet for the little white bungalow.

All the way over he honked the horn to bring out all the Shady Forest Folk from their tree houses and burrows.

“What’s the matter?” asked Squirrel Nutcracker from his Old Tree Lodge.

“Lady Love has a little boy rabbit!” answered Uncle Lucky.

“What’s all the noise about?” inquired Busy Beaver, swimming up to the bank of the Shady Forest Pool.

“Lady Love has a little rabbit boy!” answered Uncle Lucky.

“Stop blowing that horn!” snapped Grandmother Magpie from her perch in the tall pine tree.

“Not for a minute,” shouted back dear Uncle Lucky. “Lady Love has a little boy rabbit.”

“Are you going crazy?” asked the Big Brown Bear as the Luckymobile whizzed by the Cozy Cave.

“No, I’m going to see my little grandnephew,” answered Uncle Lucky. “Lady Love has a baby rabbit.”

“You’ll wake up my babies,” cried Mrs. Bobbie Redvest, as the Luckymobile rushed past the Apple Orchard.

“Never mind,” shouted back Uncle Lucky. “Tell ’em there’s a new baby at the Old Bramble Patch. Lady Love has a little boy rabbit.”

“Goodness me, what a noise!” croaked Granddaddy Bullfrog, as Uncle Lucky circled the Old Duck Pond. “Has the old gentleman rabbit lost his wits?”

“Not yet,” answered dear Uncle Lucky. “I’m off for the Old Bramble Patch to see Lady Love’s little boy rabbit. He just came to-day.”

“Where are you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, as Uncle Lucky sped by the Old Chestnut Tree.

“To see Little Jack Rabbit, Lady Love’s baby,” answered the old gentleman rabbit.

And so it went. Everybody wanted to know what was the matter, and when Uncle Lucky finally reached the dear Old Bramble Patch he had told the glad news to every single solitary person in the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow.