Little Jack Rabbit's big blue book

Goodness me! boys and girls, I think I forgot to mention that just back of Uncle Lucky’s little white house stood a tiny garage in which he kept his Luckymobile, the fastest car in all Rabbitville. Sometimes it went so fast that the hind wheels couldn’t keep up with the front wheels. Then, of course, the old gentleman rabbit had to honk the horn and put on the brakes to avoid a dreadful accident.

One morning dear Uncle Lucky hopped into the kitchen where Little Miss Mousie was setting the breakfast table while the turnip tea was singing on the stove.

As soon as the meal was over the old gentleman rabbit slipped his big diamond horseshoe pin into his purple cravat and buttoned up his pink waistcoat. Then tying his blue silk polkadot handkerchief over the top of his old wedding stovepipe hat and under his chin to keep Billy Breeze from blowing it off, he shouted, “Good-by, Little Miss Mousie!” and hopped out to the garage, where the old Red Rooster was cleaning the Luckymobile cushions with his feather duster tail.

“Ha, ha!” laughed dear Uncle Lucky, hopping into the Luckymobile, “I’m going to take Little Jack Rabbit out for a ride.” And, giving the horn a honk or two, he whizzed through the little gate in the white picket fence. At Cabbage Street he turned off Lettuce Avenue and into the Shady Forest. By and by, after a while, he reached the dear Old Bramble Patch.

“I’ll be out in just a minute!” shouted Little Jack Rabbit in answer to the three honks of the Luckymobile horn. “I’ve almost finished polishing the front door knob.”

“Don’t hurry!” replied the old gentleman rabbit, hopping around to the kitchen where Lady Love, the little rabbit’s mother, was wiping the dishes.

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” chirped the little Black Cricket from the woodbox by the kitchen stove.

“Here comes Uncle Lucky!” sang the Three Little Grasshoppers, while the pretty Canary from her gold cage twittered a song of welcome and the Hollyhocks nodded their heads as the old gentleman rabbit hopped up on the little back porch.

Lady Love pushed forward the big rocking chair and when the old gentleman bunny was comfortably seated, handed him a cup of turnip tea.

“Ah, me!” he sighed, though smiling at Lady Love:

and taking a blue silk polkadot handkerchief out of his coat-tail pocket, dear kind Uncle Lucky wiped a tear from his left eye.

Pretty soon when Little Jack Rabbit had finished polishing the front door knob, he and Uncle Lucky hopped out to the Luckymobile and drove away across the Sunny Meadow, up the Old Cow Path and over the hill-top, to the Shady Forest.

Everything was going along so nicely and Billy Breeze was whistling such a merry tune in the treetops when, all of a sudden, just like that, quick as the bills on the first of the month, something happened. Isn’t it too bad that unpleasant things always happen when these two dear little rabbits are enjoying themselves?

Before Uncle Lucky could stop the Luckymobile it ran straight into a big log that lay across the Shady Forest Path, and out went the two little bunnies. No sooner had they picked themselves up than whom should they see peeping around a tree, but Mr. Wicked Wolf.

“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” whispered Little Jack Rabbit, “let’s turn back.”

But, goodness gracious me! who was standing not far behind them, but Danny Fox!

“Worse and worse,” sighed poor dear Uncle Lucky, hopping off sideways when, all of a sudden, Old Man Weasel crept from behind a stone.

“What shall we do?” cried the poor little rabbit, all a-tremble with fright. “Won’t somebody come to help us?”

whispered a little voice from the treetop. And, wasn’t it lucky? it was the Old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth.

shouted the bunny boy.

Then brave Uncle Lucky held the door tight shut with his strong hind legs while the little rabbit peeped out through a knothole.

“Is he coming? Is he coming?” asked the anxious old gentleman rabbit, still holding the door tightly closed with his strong hind legs.

“Maybe I can see him with my left eye,” answered the little rabbit, again squinting through the knothole. “Here he comes! Here he comes!”

Sure enough, the big kind Policeman Dog in his long blue coat with its big silver star was running swiftly across the Sunny Meadow.

“Here, I am!” he shouted, waving his hickory stick and blowing his big shrill whistle.

No sooner did Danny Fox hear that whistle than he ran through the Shady Forest.

No sooner did Mr. Wicked Wolf see the big kind Policeman Dog than he, too, turned and fled.

As for Old Man Weasel, he crawled under the bed on reaching home and never dared to come out for a week and a day.

“Everything is safe now!” shouted the big kind Policeman Dog, tapping the little door of the old Hollow Stump Telephone Booth with his big hickory stick. So out hopped the two little rabbits.

“Here, take this!” cried dear generous Uncle Lucky, pulling out of his wallet a ten dollar lettuce leaf bill for the brave Policeman Dog. “Buy the Missus a new calico apron and the little bow-wow some candy.”

“Thank you,” said the good Policeman Dog, saluting the old gentleman rabbit with his right paw, and away he ran to the Police Station in Rabbitville.

“I guess we’d better go home,” said the old gentleman rabbit. “We’ve had enough trouble for to-day,” and before long he drove through the gate in the white picket fence and around to the garage in the rear of his little white house on the corner of Lettuce Avenue and Carrot Street, Rabbitville.

There stood the Old Red Rooster, polishing his spurs with Uncle Lucky’s shoe brush.

“Are you going to a wedding?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, winking at Mrs. Swallow, who was peeping out of her mud house under the eaves.

“No, to a fight!” answered the Old Red Rooster.

“Maybe I’d better bring in some cabbage leaves,” said the old gentleman rabbit, hopping down the little path under the grape arbor and around the Old Well to the garden. “Miss Mousie can make us a nice salad for lunch.” And while his little mouse housekeeper was setting the table, he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped out on the front porch where, just under the roof, pretty Mrs. Sparrow had a nest crowded with little birdies.

Sitting down in the hammock, the old gentleman rabbit swung back and forth, while his little bunny nephew looked in the croquet box to see if Hungry Hawk had stolen one of the nice wooden balls.

Pretty soon, when the old gentleman rabbit had fallen asleep, Mrs. Sparrow whispered in the little bunny’s ear,

and she went on to explain how dear generous Uncle Lucky allowed her to use his front porch free of charge all through the year.

By and by Little Miss Mousie came to the front door to say that luncheon was ready.

“Dearest me!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “did I fall asleep?” and jumping out of the hammock, he winked at little Mrs. Sparrow. Then calling to Little Jack Rabbit, he hopped through the front hall, where the Old Grandfather Clock went tick, tickie, tock all the day long.

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, hanging his old wedding stovepipe hat on the hat-stand, “I’m as hungry as three bears!”

“So am I,” laughed the little rabbit, “I could eat a bag of animal crackers!”

“Dearest me! Somebody’s knocking,” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit, as Little Miss Mousie brought in the lollypop stew. “I wonder if it’s Old Man Trouble?”

“No, it isn’t,” answered Little Miss Mousie, peeking through the keyhole. “It’s Granddaddy Bullfrog.”

“Ask him in! Don’t keep him waiting!” shouted dear hospitable Uncle Lucky.

“You’re just in time for lunch,” he added, as the old gentleman frog hopped into the kitchen.

Pushing up a chair, Little Miss Mousie made an extra place for him at the neat little table. But, oh, dear me! she forgot to give him a napkin, and because the old gentleman frog was too polite to ask for one while eating a raspberry tart, one of the raspberries rolled down his white waistcoat!

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky, suddenly seeing the big red stain, “were you signing checks with red ink this morning?”

But before the embarrassed old frog could answer kind Little Miss Mousie washed off the spot with a gasolene cloth.

After the meal was over Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy Bullfrog hopped out on the front porch to play pinochle and the little rabbit went out to talk to the Old Red Rooster, who was still polishing his spurs in the Old Red Barn.

By and by the little bunny grew restless and, thinking he had better be going, he hopped around to the kitchen to say good-by to Little Miss Mousie. After she had filled his pockets with sweet cookies, he stopped a moment at the front porch, but Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy Bullfrog were so busy with their game that they never noticed him.

“I’ll say good-by for you,” twittered little Mrs. Sparrow, knowing that the little bunny didn’t want dear Uncle Lucky to wonder what had become of him.

sang Bobbie Redvest from the Old Rail Fence.

“Not quite so many,” answered the little rabbit, “but maybe some day I’ll have enough to buy mother a jade necklace.”

whispered Billy Breeze to all the little people of the Shady Forest and the Sunny Meadow. He didn’t exactly whisper it, you know. He did it in a better way, a way by which no one heard a word. He carried the smell of the wicked old fox to the nose of every little animal. Yes, sir, that’s how Billy Breeze whispers bad news!

“I’m glad I’m safe at home,” thought the little bunny, as he opened the little gate in the white picket fence around the dear Old Bramble Patch.

“Dear, oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Grouse, hiding her brood under her wings amid the brown underbrush.

“Goodness gracious!” cackled little Henny Jenny, “I’m glad Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, is around. I hope the Farmer’s Boy won’t whistle to him.”

“Heigh, ho!” yawned Mrs. Cow, with a shake of her head, making the little bell on her collar ting-a-ling. “So old Danny Fox is out hunting!”

Then the motherly lady cow walked over to rub her nose against the silky ear of her long-legged little calf. “But you needn’t be afraid of that old robber. He eats only little defenseless bunnies and chickens. He’s no real hunter. Oh, my, no! He’s only a sneak thief.”

“What’s that you’re saying about me?” asked a voice, all of a sudden, quick as a lightning bug or a tornado.

There stood Danny Fox himself, close by the Old Rail Fence.

“Moo-oo! Moo-oo!” answered Mrs. Cow, lowering her head till her horns pointed right at his head.

“S-s-s-h!” whispered the sly old robber, “maybe the farmer will think you’re calling him!”

“I don’t care if he does,” answered Mrs. Cow, giving her head a toss, but quickly lowering it to bring the tips of her horns on a level with Danny Fox’s eyes. “Don’t you bother me, you old rascal.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Danny Fox, carefully peering here and there, however, for fear some one might be coming by, “I’m not afraid of you. Besides, you have a thimble on each of your horns.”

They weren’t real thimbles, you know, but the little brass caps which the Farmer had fastened on. Danny Fox thought they were thimbles because Mrs. Fox used a thimble when she mended Bushytail’s coat or Slyboot’s trousers.

“I don’t care what you say, you old robber,” answered Mrs. Cow with a loud moo-oo! walking up to the fence as brave as a fireman or a policeman. “Get out, or I’ll toss you over the Bubbling Brook, or maybe farther!”

“Now, don’t get disagreeable,” whined the old fox, “I’m going along. Maybe I’ll find a nice little rabbit for supper.”

But he won’t catch Little Jack Rabbit. No, indeed! That dear little bunny boy is safe in the Old Bramble Patch.