Little Jack Rabbit's big blue book

“I must run up to see the Big Brown Bear,” thought Little Jack Rabbit, looking up at Mr. Merry Sun shining in the Blue Sky Country.

“I want you to hop down to the Three-in-One-Cent Store for a clothes-pin,” said Lady Love, his pretty bunny mother.

“All right, mother dear,” answered the little rabbit, tucking the napkin under his chin and helping himself to a big slice of carrot cake.

My, what a nice breakfast his bunny mother had made for him—carrot cakes with lollypop syrup, turnip tea and lettuce marmalade.

As soon as the little rabbit had brought in the kindling wood, fed the canary and polished the front door knob, he kissed his pretty bunny mother good-by and hopped down the winding path through the brambles to the Sunny Meadow.

Peeking out of his little front door stood Timmie Meadowmouse.

“Hello!” said Little Jack Rabbit, stopping before the tiny, round grass-ball house, hung on three stiff stalks of grass about six inches above the ground, “Where do you think I’m going?”

“Well, wherever you’re going,” answered the timid meadowmouse, peering anxiously out of the small round hole that serves for his front door, “you’d better look out for Danny Fox.”

“Oh, I will,” replied Little Jack Rabbit. “And I’ll bring you a lollypop, ’cause I’m going up to see the Big Brown Bear and the Lollypop Tree. Good-by,” and away hopped the little bunny, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, up the Old Cow Path in the Sunny Meadow and over the hill top until, by and by, not so very long, he came to the Shady Forest, where he paused for a moment to inquire how Mrs. Nutcracker was getting along.

“Very nicely, thank you,” replied old Squirrel Nutcracker, dropping a handful of nuts in the little rabbit’s pocket. “She’ll soon be around again.”

“I’m glad of that,” answered the kind-hearted little bunny boy, “mother sends her love,” and off he hopped up the Shady Forest Trail.

As he passed the pool in which Busy Beaver has his home, he stopped to say “Hello.”

“Hello, yourself!” shouted back the little beaver. “How are all the folks?”

“Pretty well, except dear Uncle Lucky Lefthindfoot,” answered the little bunny rabbit boy. “He has the rheumatism in his left hind toe and Dr. Quack says it will be some time before he can do a toe dance.”

“Shouldn’t wonder,” laughed the happy little beaver, giving his big broad tail a sudden flap, sending the spray all over the little rabbit boy bunny’s fur coat, “but why should Uncle Lucky want to do a toe dance, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” replied the little rabbit, wiping the water drops off his coat sleeve. “You’ve splashed me all over, Busy Beaver, yes, you have,” and away went the little rabbit, for it was nearly a mile and a whistle and a smile to Cozy Cave where the Big Brown Bear sold

Dear me! Doesn’t that sound delicious? If only I had the time I’d leave my typewriter to run over to the Big Brown Bear. Would you come with me, little reader? I guess you would, and so would your little brother Jimmy.

Well, now where was I before I began to dream? I was on my way to Cozy Cave for a gum drop? Oh, yes, Little Jack Rabbit had stopped before I had even started, so I’ll tell you without digressing further, which means to go off sideways—what the little bunny did.

“Where you going?” asked Chippy Chipmunk, running along the top of the Old Rail Fence, his red striped jacket shining in the morning sun and his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Bring me a lollypop,” shouted Chippy Chipmunk as the little rabbit boy hopped up the Shady Forest Trail, in and out among the trees, where Billy Breeze whistled amid the leaves.

By and by, way, way yonder, he could just make out the comfortable figure of the Big Brown Bear sitting in front of his cozy cave, smoking a corncob pipe.

“Hello! hello!” shouted the little rabbit, waving his red-striped candy cane. “Are you there, Mr. Bear?”

“No, I’m here,” chuckled the big good-natured, furry-coated animal, “but just keep on, you’ll find me all right.”

“How’s mother?” he asked, taking the old corncob pipe from between his beautiful white pearly teeth, as the breathless little rabbit stood before him.

“She’s well, thank you,” panted the little bunny boy, looking up at the lollypops as they winked their purple-pinky eyes from the branches of the Lollypop Tree.

“Did you do your three chores for mother this morning?” enquired the Big Brown Bear, although the little bunny boy wished to goodness gracious he would stop asking questions and give him a lollypop.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes!” answered the wistful-eyed little rabbit.

“You polished the front door knob, fed the canary and brought in the kindling wood?” continued the questioning old bear.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” repeated the little bunny boy rabbit, only this time he shouted it.

“That’s a good lad,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, handing a pink lollypop to his little long-eared caller. “Have a lollypop!”

And then, would you believe it, that big bear put away his pipe and began to suck a green lollypop. Just fancy that if you can! Pretty soon he said with a smile, “Want another?”

“Have you any left?” asked the bunny boy, oh, so wist-ful-ly.

“Well, I’ll see,” answered the Big Brown Bear, rising to his feet and ambling into the cozy cave. But, oh, dear me! the only things he found were a popcorn ball and an empty ice cream cone.

“Goodness gracious!” he exclaimed, coming out again into the sunlight, “I guess I’ll have to climb the Lollypop Tree.”

It didn’t take him long to swing himself up, and as he climbed higher and higher, the little rabbit watched him anxiously. Pretty soon the Big Brown Bear reached the branches where the lollypops grow in a rainbow row.

“Do you want that nice pink one?” he asked, looking down into the little rabbit’s upturned face.

“Oh, yes!” shouted the bunny boy. “And that green one, too, and that one all blue, and maybe a purple one for you.”

Carefully picking off the lollypops, the big kind animal shoved them into his coat pocket. Then sliding down the tree, he walked over and sat down on the big wooden bench.

“Come, hop up beside me. We’ll sing the lollypop song!” and moving over to one side to make room for the little rabbit he held up the purple lollypop. Then the little bunny held up the pink lollypop, and, both together, all at once, just at the same time, they shouted:

Pretty soon the lollypops were licked all to pieces—nothing was left but the two little sticks.

“Well, well,” chuckled the Big Brown Bear, taking out of his pocket the green and blue lollypops. Then he and his little bunny friend held them up in the same way, singing all over again the lovely lollypop song, and when only the little sticks remained, the Big Brown Bear asked with a smile:

“What shall we do now?”

“Let’s have one more lollypop and one more song,” answered the little rabbit.

“Dear, dear, dearest me! I must climb up the Lollypop Tree!” sighed the Big Brown Bear. But he was so kind and he was so good that up he went, until at last he came to the row where the beautiful, luscious lollypops grow.

“Do you want that yellow one?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, I do, and that red one, too,” shouted the little rabbit, “and that orange one will be good for you.”

Picking them off the branches with his furry paw, the Big Brown Bear slipped them in his pocket and, scrambling down to the ground, walked over to the big wooden bench. The little rabbit followed close at his heels and, jumping up beside him, peeked into the good-natured animal’s pocket.

“My, what a hungry little bunny,” laughed the Big Brown Bear, pulling out the lollypops. Then, holding up the orange colored one in his right paw, he waited for the little bunny boy.

they shouted all over again; and not until the lollypops were all gone did the little rabbit suddenly remember the errand for his mother.

“Dear, oh, dear! I almost forgot that mother wants a clothes-pin from the Three-in-One Cent Store. Good-by, Mr. Big Brown Bear,” and away hopped the little rabbit down the winding trail, in and out among the trees, until at last he hopped across Busy Beaver’s dam that held back the water in the Bubbling Brook.

“What’s your hurry?” asked the beaver.

“Don’t stop me!” replied the little bunny boy. “Mother asked me to get a clothes-pin,” and, hitching up his little knapsack, he swung his little striped candy cane around three times and a half and hopped merrily up the Old Cow Path toward the farmyard.

“Hello!” cackled Henny Jenny, as he peeked in through the fence.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” crowed Cocky Doodle.

“I’m pretty well,” answered the bunny boy rabbit, “but don’t stop me! I must get a clothes-pin for mother at the Three-in-One Cent Store.”

But, dear me! Just then Ducky Waddles shuffled around the big haystack and Turkey Tim strutted across the yard. Of course they, too, shouted “Hello!” and the next minute the Weathercock on the big Red Barn spun around on his gilded toe and asked the little rabbit the time.

“Dear me!” thought the little bunny, taking out the big gold watch which Uncle Lucky had given him for a birthday present, “I’m afraid to look—I’ve wasted so much time this morning.” And then, oh, how I hate to tell it, something dreadful happened.

“Oh, dear me!” thought the little rabbit, backing away toward the old apple tree, “Black Cat will surely scratch all the little buttons off my fur overcoat.”

“Meow! Meow!” cried Black Cat, creeping forward, his wicked green eyes blazing like balls of fire and his sharp claws sticking out of his fur-mittens.

And the poor little rabbit, his back against the old apple tree, stood all a-tremble, not knowing what to do.

“Go way, go way!” he cried. But closer and closer crept the wicked cat in his long black coat.

All of a sudden a little voice from a treetop whispered:

“Don’t you remember how your mother taught you to defend yourself?”

Then, of course, the little rabbit boy remembered the only way a bunny can protect himself. Turning around as quick as a flash, he struck out with his two strong hind legs, hitting Black Cat such a welt in the belt that all the breath was knocked out of him. It took the old cat five minutes to find it. And while he hunted here and there, under a stone and behind a bush, away hopped the little rabbit, clipperty clip, lipperty lip, down the road to Rabbitville.

“Don’t forget next time to remember what mother tells you,” called little Bobbie Redvest from the apple tree.

“Oh, I won’t, I won’t!” shouted the little bunny boy over his shoulder, “I’m trying now to remember the clothes-pin!” and away he hopped faster than ever to the Three-in-One Cent Store.