Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty

Once upon a time Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy promised Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, who lived with Uncle Wiggily, to take her down to the fifteen and sixteen cent store to buy a new hat.

But at the last minute Nurse Jane had to go over to help Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady, make sugar cookies.

“I’ll take Baby Bunty to the five and ten cent store myself,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll help her get a new hat.”

“Oh, joy!” cried Baby Bunty. “I love to go shopping with you, Uncle Wiggily. Only we’ll go to the nineteen and twenty cent store. They have lovely hats there! Why, some have grass-colored ribbons and one has real cabbage leaf trimmings.”

“That will be fine!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. “When you are hungry you can eat part of your hat, Bunty.”

“Oh, I’ll never do that!” said the little rabbit girl, who had been found in a hollow stump.

So Nurse Jane went over to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s and Uncle Wiggily started for the three and four cent store—no, I’m wrong—it was the nineteen and twenty. Baby Bunty skipped on ahead, running two and fro, jumping over bushes and snuggling down in clumps of ferns, as though playing hide and seek. Uncle Wiggily went more slowly and rheumatic like.

“Why don’t you jump, as I do?” asked Baby Bunty.

“Oh, my joints are too stiff,” said the bunny rabbit. “I’m getting old, Baby Bunty.”

“Well, then I’ll have to make you lively!” cried the little rabbit girl.

“Oh, please don’t do any more of your tricks!” begged Uncle Wiggily with a laugh. “Just let me hobble along in peace and quietness on my rheumatism crutch. And, Baby Bunty, there is one favor I want to beg of you.”

“What is it?” asked the little rabbit girl as she waved her paw to a spotted lady bug, friendly like.

“Don’t ask me to go in that eleven and twelve cent store with you to get your new hat,” spoke the bunny. “I’ll go as far as the door with you and give you the money. But I’ll wait outside. I never can bear to hop up and down the aisles, from the soap department over to the lace veil counter doing shopping. I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Very well,” said Baby Bunty. “But I think it would do your stiffness good to come in. However, we shall see.”

So Uncle Wiggily hopped on with the lively little rabbit girl, and soon they were at the—nineteen and twenty cent store, I think. You can look back and make sure.

“Now, I’ll wait here for you,” said the rabbit gentleman, sitting down in a sunny place outside. “Take the money and get a new hat Bunty.”

“What’s the matter with your pa? Isn’t he feeling well?” asked a little mousie girl clerk, as she came up to wait on Baby Bunty, and saw the rabbit gentleman staying outside.

“That isn’t my pa—it’s Uncle Wiggily,” said the little shopper. “He’s getting stiff, but I’ll soon make him feel better.”

Then she began to shop around and look at hats, and pretty soon, having tried on one with carrot trimmings, she went to the door and called:

“Uncle Wiggily! Please come in and see if this looks well on me!”

“Oh, my!” groaned Uncle Wiggily. “Must I come in? Well, only this once.”

Slowly he hopped in, looked at Bunty’s hat, and said:

“Oh, yes. That’s fine. Have it wrapped up and we’ll get home.”

“Oh, but there’s a hat with real radishes on, up on the next floor!” said the little rabbit girl, as she laid aside the carrot hat. “Let’s go look at that!”

Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily had to hop after, groaning at his aching joints. Baby Bunty tried on the radish hat.

“That’s fine!” said Uncle Wiggily. “Buy it!”

“Oh, but there’s one on the next floor with a cabbage leaf crown. I want you to see how I look in that!” said Baby Bunty. Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her. She tried on the cabbage hat.

“Buy it! Oh, buy it!” begged the bunny.

“Oh, but on the next floor is a hat with cucumber salad all around the edges!” said Bunty. “I might look better in that!” Up the stairs she hopped and Uncle Wiggily hopped after her.

Well, sir, Baby Bunty tried on forty-’leven hats before she found one she liked, and by that time Uncle Wiggily was so lively, from hopping up and down stairs, that he felt real reckless like and sporty, and he bought two ice cream cones. He said he felt so good he had to have a treat.

“I thought you’d like to come shopping!” said Baby Bunty. And Uncle Wiggily only twinkled his pink nose. But if the molasses jug doesn’t take the candy stick to beat the parlor rug when it’s trying to race with the kitchen oilcloth, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s shoes.