Uncle Wiggily and Baby Bunty

“Oh, Baby Bunty! Baby Bunty!” called Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, to the little rabbit girl, who had been found in a hollow stump by Uncle Wiggily Longears. “Ho, Baby Bunty! Come here, quickly!” called the muskrat lady housekeeper of the rabbit’s bungalow.

“Does Uncle Wiggily want to play tag with me, or hide-and-go-seek?” asked Baby Bunty, as she came running in from the front yard. She had been playing dolls with Susie Littletail, the big rabbit girl, and with Lulu and Alice Wibblewobble, the duck girls. “Does Uncle Wiggily want to chase me?” asked Baby Bunty.

“No, indeed!” answered Nurse Jane. “You are altogether too lively for Uncle Wiggily, I’m afraid. He is so stiff and lame, from having chased your doll yesterday, as you were pulling it along through the wood by a string—Uncle Wiggily is so lame from his fast hopping that you’ll have to go get Dr. Possum.”

“What for?” asked Baby Bunty, who was, indeed, a lively little rabbit girl, always wanting the bunny gentleman to play with her and chase her. She said it kept him lively. Well, it did to a certain extent. “Why does Unk Wig want Dr. Possum?” asked Baby Bunty, giving Mr. Longears one of his pet names.

“Because he is ill,” said Nurse Jane. “He is so lame and stiff that he just sits in an easy chair and grunts. Dr. Possum will come and give Uncle Wiggily some medicine and then he’ll be better.”

“All right! I’ll go!” said Baby Bunty, and pretty soon she came riding back with the animal doctor in his automobile.

“My! But you came quickly!” said Nurse Jane, as Dr. Possum stopped his car amid a shower of leaves, in front of Uncle Wiggily’s hollow stump bungalow.

“I just had to!” said Dr. Possum, getting out and curling his long tail around his satchel of pink, blue, red, yellow and skilligimink colored pills. “Baby Bunty said if I didn’t ride here as fast as I could make the auto go, maybe Uncle Wiggily would never get better.”

“Oh, I think it isn’t quite as bad as that,” said Nurse Jane. “Still Uncle Wiggily is very lame and stiff. He says he can’t move, from having hopped too lively yesterday.”

“Hum! Anybody would be lively where Baby Bunty was,” spoke Dr. Possum. “Now, I’ll have a look at my Uncle Wiggily friend.”

Well, Dr. Possum gave Mr. Longears red pills and pink pills and yellow pills and brown pills, but still, all that day, the rabbit gentleman sat in his chair and grunted and groaned and said he was so stiff he couldn’t move. Dr. Possum shook his head.

“I can’t understand it,” he said. “There doesn’t seem to be much the matter with Uncle Wiggily, but yet he won’t get up and move about. Suppose you make him some sassafras tea,” he said to Nurse Jane.

“I will,” she promised. So Dr. Possum went away, and Nurse Jane went out in the woods to dig up some sassafras roots, and Baby Bunty was left home with Uncle Wiggily. The rabbit gentleman sat in his easy chair, with his eyes shut and his pink nose twinkled hardly any.

“How do you feel now?” asked Baby Bunty.

“Oh, perhaps if I read the paper I’d feel better,” said Mr. Longears.

Baby Bunty handed it to him.

“Now, if you’ll give me my glasses, my dear,” went on Uncle Wiggily, “I’ll sit here and read until Nurse Jane comes back.”

A queer look came over Baby Bunty’s face.

“Where are your glasses?” she asked.

“On the mantel,” said the rabbit gentleman. Baby Bunty looked.

“I don’t see them,” she answered.

“Oh, maybe they’re on the clock shelf,” spoke Mr. Longears.

“No, they aren’t there,” said Baby Bunty. “I guess you’ll have to get up and help me hunt for them, Uncle Wiggily.”

“Oh, dear! I suppose I must,” groaned the bunny. Slowly, and with much groaning, he got out of his chair. He looked in several places for his glasses so he could read. But he could not find them.

“Maybe they’re behind the piano,” said Baby Bunty. Uncle Wiggily looked there, but no glasses were to be found. “Maybe they’re over here under the couch!” cried Baby Bunty, hopping across the room. Uncle Wiggily followed her. The glasses were not there. “Maybe they’re out in the kitchen. Come on, run out there with me and look,” cried Baby Bunty.

Uncle Wiggily did. And then such a chase, all over the hollow stump bungalow, as Baby Bunty led Uncle Wiggily looking for his glasses! Up stairs and down stairs he hopped, getting more and more lively all the while.

Finally, when Uncle Wiggily was trying to jump up on top of the picture moulding, since Baby Bunty said his glasses might be there, in came Nurse Jane with the sassafras.

“Why, Uncle Wiggily!” she cried. “What’s the matter? You must be all better by the lively way you hop about! What’s the matter?”

“I’m looking for my glasses, and Baby Bunty is helping me,” answered Mr. Longears.

“Why, how forgetful you are, Wiggily! There are your glasses, on top of your head, where you so often put them!” said Nurse Jane. “Didn’t you know they were there?”

“No,” said Mr. Longears, “I didn’t.”

“I did—all the while!” laughed Baby Bunty. “But I just wanted you to hop around lively and hunt for them. You aren’t stiff now, are you, Mr. Longears?” she asked, formal like.

“No,” said Uncle Wiggily, twinkling his pink nose, “I am not at all stiff! Yours was the best medicine, Baby Bunty!”

And if the mince pie doesn’t dream that it’s a trolley car and try to run a race with the rag doll’s automobile, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s picnic.