Howard R. Garis - Uncle Wiggily in the Woods
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Howard R. Garis >> Uncle Wiggily in the Woods
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"The drug store."
"The drug store? What do you want; talcum powder or court plaster?"
"Neither one," answered Nurse Jane. "I want some peppermint."
"Peppermint candy?" Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.
"Not exactly," went on Nurse Jane. "But I want a little of the
peppermint juice with which some kind of candy is flavored. I want to
take some peppermint juice myself, for I have indigestion. Dr. Possum
says peppermint is good for it. I must have eaten a little too much
cheese pudding last night."
"I'll get you the peppermint with pleasure," said the bunny uncle,
starting off with his tall silk hat and his red, white and blue striped
rheumatism barber pole crutch.
"Better get it in a bottle," spoke Nurse Jane, with a laugh. "You
can't carry peppermint in your pocket, unless it's peppermint candy,
and I don't want that kind."
"All right," Uncle Wiggily said, and then, with the bottle, which Nurse
Jane gave him, he hopped on, over the fields and through the woods to
the drug store.
But when he got there the cupboard was bare--. No! I mustn't say
that. It doesn't belong here. I mean when Uncle Wiggily reached the
drug store it was closed, and there was a sign in the door which said
the monkey-doodle gentleman who kept the drug store had gone to a
baseball-moving-picture show, and wouldn't be back for a long while.
"Then I wonder where I am going to get Nurse Jane's peppermint?" asked
Uncle Wiggily of himself. "I'd better go see if Dr. Possum has any."
But while Uncle Wiggily was going on through the woods once more, he
gave a sniff and a whiff, and, all of a sudden, he smelled a peppermint
smell.
The rabbit gentleman stood still, looking around and making his pink
nose twinkle like a pair of roller skates. While he was doing this
along came a cow lady chewing some grass for her complexion.
"What are you doing here, Uncle Wiggily?" asked the cow lady.
Uncle Wiggily told her how he had gone to the drug store for peppermint
for Nurse Jane, and how he had found the store closed, so he could not
get any.
"But I smell peppermint here in the woods," went on the bunny uncle.
"Can it be that the drug store monkey doodle has left some here for me?"
"No, what you smell is--that," said the cow lady, pointing her horns
toward some green plants growing near a little babbling brook of water.
The plants had dark red stems that were square instead of round.
"It does smell like peppermint," said Uncle Wiggily, going closer and
sniffing and snuffing.
"It is peppermint," said the cow lady. "That is the peppermint plant
you see."
"Oh, now I remember," Uncle Wiggily exclaimed. "They squeeze the juice
out of the leaves, and that's peppermint flavor for candy or for
indigestion."
"Exactly," spoke the cow lady, "and I'll help you squeeze out some of
this juice in the bottle for Nurse Jane."
Then Uncle Wiggily and the cow lady pulled up some of the peppermint
plants and squeezed out the juice between two clean, flat stones, the
cow lady stepping on them while Uncle Wiggily caught the juice in the
empty bottle as it ran out.
"My! But that is strong!" cried the bunny uncle, as he smelled of the
bottle of peppermint. It was so sharp that it made tears come into his
eyes. "I should think that would cure indigestion and everything
else," he said to the cow lady.
"Tell Nurse Jane to take only a little of it in sweet water," said the
cow lady. "It is very strong. So be careful of it."
"I will," promised Uncle Wiggily. "And thank you for getting the
peppermint for me. I don't know what I would have done without you, as
the drug store was closed."
Then he hopped on through the woods to the hollow stump bungalow. He
had not quite reached it when, all of a sudden, there was a rustling in
the hushes, and out from behind a bramble bush jumped a big black bear.
Not a nice good bear, like Neddie or Beckie Stubtail, but a bear who
cried:
"Ah, ha! Oh, ho! Here is some one whom I can bite and scratch! A
nice tender rabbit chap! Ah, ha! Oh, ho!"
"Are--are you going to scratch and bite me?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"I am," said the bear, snappish like. "Get ready. Here I come!" and
he started toward Uncle Wiggily, who was so frightened that he could
not hop away.
"I'm going to hug you, too," said the bear. Bears always hug, you know.
"Well, this is, indeed, a sorry day for me," said Uncle Wiggily, sadly.
"Still, if you are going to hug, bite and scratch me, I suppose it
can't be helped."
"Not the least in the world can it be helped," said the bear,
cross-like and unpleasant. "So don't try!"
"Well, if you are going to hug me I had better take this bottle out of
my pocket, so when you squeeze me the glass won't break," Uncle Wiggily
said. "Here, when you are through being so mean to me perhaps you will
be good enough to take this to Nurse Jane for her indigestion, but
don't hug her."
"I won't," promised the bear, taking the bottle which Uncle Wiggily
handed him. "What's in it?"
Before Uncle Wiggily could answer, the bear opened the bottle, and,
seeing something in it, cried:
"I guess I'll taste this. Maybe it's good to eat." Down his big, red
throat he poured the strong peppermint juice, and then--well, I guess
you know what happened.
"Oh, wow! Oh, me! Oh, my! Wow! Ouch! Ouchie! Itchie!" roared the
bear. "My throat is on fire! I must have some water!" And, dropping
the bottle, away he ran to the spring, leaving Uncle Wiggily safe, and
not hurt a bit.
Then the rabbit gentleman hurried back and squeezed out more peppermint
juice for Nurse Jane, whose indigestion was soon cured. And as for the
bear, he had a sore throat for a week and a day.
So this teaches us that peppermint is good for scaring bears, as well
as for putting in candy. And if the snow man doesn't come in our house
and sit by the gas stove until he melts into a puddle of molasses, I'll
tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the birch tree.
STORY IX
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE BIRCH TREE
Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice old rabbit gentleman, was walking
along through the woods one afternoon, when he came to the hollow stump
school, where the lady mouse teacher taught the animal boys and girls
how to jump, crack nuts, dig homes under ground, and do all manner of
things that animal folk have to do.
And just as the rabbit gentleman was wondering whether or not school
was out, he heard a voice inside the hollow stump, saying:
"Oh, dear! I wish I had some one to help me. I'll never get them
clean all by myself. Oh, dear!"
"Ha! That sounds like trouble!" thought Mr. Longears to himself. "I
wonder who it is, and if I can help? I guess I'd better see."
He looked in through a window, and there he saw the lady mouse teacher
cleaning off the school black-boards. The boards were all covered with
white chalk marks, you see.
"What's the matter, lady mouse teacher?" asked Uncle Wiggily, making a
polite, low bow.
"Oh, I told Johnnie and Billy Bushytail, the two squirrel boys, to stay
in and clean off the black-boards, so they would be all ready for
tomorrow's lesson," said the lady mouse. "But they forgot, and ran off
to play ball with Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys. So I
have to clean the boards myself. And I really ought to be home now,
for I am very tired."
"Then you trot right along," said Uncle Wiggily, kindly. "Tie a knot
in your tail, so you won't step on it, and hurry along."
"But what about the black-boards?" asked the lady mouse. "They must be
cleaned off."
"I'll attend to that," promised the bunny uncle. "I will clean them
myself. Run along, Miss Mouse."
So Miss Mouse thanked the bunny uncle, and ran along, and the rabbit
gentleman began brushing the chalk marks off the black-boards, at the
same time humming a little tune that went this way:
"I'd love to be a teacher,
Within a hollow stump.
I'd teach the children how to fall,
And never get a bump.
I'd let them out at recess,
A game of tag to play;
I'd give them all fresh lollypops
'Most every other day!"
"Oh, my! Wouldn't we just love to come to school to you!" cried a
voice at the window, and, looking up. Uncle Wiggily saw Billie
Bushytail, the boy squirrel, and brother Johnnie with him.
"Ha! What happened you two chaps?" asked the bunny uncle. "Why did
you run off without cleaning the black-boards for the lady mouse
teacher?"
"We forgot," said Johnnie, sort of ashamed-like and sorry. "That's
what we came back to do--clean the boards."
"Well, that was good of you," spoke Uncle Wiggily. "But I have the
boards nearly cleaned now."
"Then we will give them a dusting with our tails, and that will finish
them," said Billie, and the squirrel boys did, so the black-boards were
very clean.
"Now it's time to go home," said Uncle Wiggily. So he locked the
school, putting the key under the doormat, where the lady mouse could
find it in the morning, and, with the Bushytail squirrel boys, he
started off through the woods.
"You and Billie can go back to your play, now, Johnnie," said the bunny
uncle. "It was good of you to leave it to come back to do what you
were told."
The three animal friends hopped and scrambled on together, until, all
of a sudden, the bad old fox, who so often had made trouble for Uncle
Wiggily, jumped out from behind a bush, crying:
"Ah, ha! Now I have you, Mr. Longears--and two squirrels besides.
Good luck!"
"Bad luck!" whispered Billie.
The fox made a grab for the rabbit gentleman, but, all of a sudden, the
paw of the bad creature slipped in some mud and down he went, head
first, into a puddle of water, coughing and sneezing.
"Come on, Uncle Wiggily!" quickly cried Billie and Johnnie. "This is
our chance. We'll run away before the fox gets the water out of his
eyes. He can't see us now."
So away ran the rabbit gentleman and the squirrel boys, but soon the
fox had dried his eyes on his big brush of a tail, and on he came after
them.
"Oh, I'll get you! I'll get you!" he cried, running very fast. But
Uncle Wiggily and Billie and Johnnie ran fast, too. The fox was coming
closer, however, and Billie, looking back, said:
"Oh, I know what let's do, Uncle Wiggily. Let's take the path that
leads over the duck pond ocean. That's shorter, and we can get to your
bungalow before the fox can catch us. He won't dare come across the
bridge over the duck pond, for Old Dog Percival will come out and bite
him if he does."
"Very well," said Uncle Wiggily, "over the bridge we will go."
But alas! Also sorrowfulness and sadness! When the three friends got
to the bridge it wasn't there. The wind had blown the bridge down, and
there was no way of getting across the duck pond ocean, for neither
Uncle Wiggily nor the squirrel boys could swim very well.
"Oh, what are we going to do?" cried Billie, sadly.
"We must get across somehow!" chattered Johnnie, "for here comes the
fox!"
And, surely enough the fox was coming, having by this time gotten all
the water out of his eyes, so he could see very well.
"Oh, if we only had a boat!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, looking along the
shore of the pond, but there was no boat to be seen.
Nearer and nearer came the fox! Uncle Wiggily and the squirrel boys
were just going to jump in the water, whether or not they could swim,
when, all at once, a big white birch tree on the edge of the woods near
the pond, said:
"Listen, Uncle Wiggily and I will save you. Strip off some of my bark.
It will not hurt me, and you can make a little canoe boat of it, as the
Indians used to do. Then, in the birch bark boat you can sail across
the water and the fox can't get you."
"Good! Thank you!" cried the bunny uncle. With their sharp teeth he,
Billie and Johnnie peeled off long strips of birch bark. They quickly
bent them in the shape of a boat and sewed up the ends with long thorns
for needles and ribbon grass for thread.
"Quick! Into the birch bark boat!" cried Uncle Wiggily, and they all
jumped in, just as the fox came along. Billie and Johnnie held up
their bushy tails, and Uncle Wiggily held up his tall silk hat for
sails, and soon they were safe on the other shore and the fox, not
being able to swim, could not get them.
So that's how the birch tree of the woods saved the bunny uncle and the
squirrels, for which, I am very glad, as I want to write more stories
about them. And if the gold fish doesn't tickle the wax doll's nose
with his tail when she looks in the tank to see what he has for
breakfast, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the butternut
tree.
STORY X
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE BUTTERNUT TREE
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady
housekeeper of Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit, as she looked in the
pantry of the hollow stump bungalow one day. "Well, I do declare!"
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Longears, peeping over the top of his
spectacles. "I hope that the chimney hasn't fallen down, or the egg
beater run away with the potato masher."
"No, nothing like that," Nurse Jane said. "But we haven't any butter!"
"No butter?" spoke Uncle Wiggily, sort of puzzled like, and abstracted.
"Not a bit of butter for supper," went on Nurse Jane, sadly.
"Ha! That sounds like something from Mother Goose. Not a bit of
butter for supper," laughed Uncle Wiggily. "Not a bit of batter-butter
for the pitter-patter supper. If Peter Piper picked a pit of peckled
pippers--"
"Oh, don't start that!" begged Nurse Jane. "All I need is some supper
for butter--no some bupper for batter--oh, dear! I'll never get it
straight!" she cried.
"I'll say it for you," said Uncle Wiggily, kindly. "I know what you
want--some butter for supper. I'll go get it for you."
"Thank you," Nurse Jane exclaimed, and so the old rabbit gentleman
started off over the fields and through the woods for the butter store.
The monkey-doodle gentleman waited on him, and soon Uncle Wiggily was
on his way back to the hollow stump bungalow with the butter for
supper, and he was thinking how nice the carrot muffins would taste,
for Nurse Jane had promised to make some, and Uncle Wiggily was sort of
smacking his whiskers and twinkling his nose, when, all at once, he
heard some one in the woods calling:
"Uncle Wiggily! Oh, I say, Uncle Wiggily! Can't you stop for a moment
and say how-d'-do?"
"Why, of course, I can," answered the bunny, and, looking around the
corner of an old log, he saw Grandpa Whackum, the old beaver gentleman,
who lived with Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail, the beaver boys.
"Come in and sit down for a minute and rest yourself," invited Grandpa
Whackum.
"I will," said Uncle Wiggily. "And I'll leave my butter outside where
it will be cool," for Grandpa Whackum lived down in an underground
house, where it was so warm, in summer, that butter would melt.
Grandpa Whackum was a beaver, and he was called Whackum because he used
to whack his broad, flat tail on the ground, like beating a drum, to
warn the other beavers of danger. Beavers, you know, are something
like big muskrats, and they like water. Their tails are flat, like a
pancake or egg turner.
"Well, how are things with you, and how is Nurse Jane?" asked Grandpa
Whackum.
"Oh, everything is fine," said Uncle Wiggily. "Nurse Jane is well.
I've just been to the store to get her some butter."
"That's just like you; always doing something for some one," said
Grandpa Whackum, pleased like.
Then the two friends talked for some little while longer, until it was
almost 6 o'clock, and time for Uncle Wiggily to go.
"I'll take my butter and travel along," he said. But when he went
outside, where he had left the pound of butter on a flat stump, it
wasn't there.
"Why, this is queer," said the bunny uncle. "I wonder if Nurse Jane
could have come along and taken it to the hollow stump bungalow
herself?"
"More likely a bad fox took the butter," spoke the old gentleman
beaver. "But we can soon tell. I'll look in the dirt around the stump
and see whose footprints are there. A fox makes different tracks from
a muskrat."
So Grandpa Whackum looked and he said:
"Why, this is queer. I can only see beaver tracks and rabbit tracks
near the stump. Only you and I were here and we didn't take anything."
"But where is my butter?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
Just then, off in the woods, near the beaver house, came the sound of
laughter and voices cailed:
"Oh, it's my turn now, Toodle."
"Yes, Noodle, and then it's mine. Oh, what fun we are having, aren't
we?"
"It's Toodle and Noodle--my two beaver grandsons," said Grandpa
Whackum. "I wonder if they could have taken your butter? Come; we'll
find out."
They went softly over behind a clump of bushes and there they saw
Toodle and Noodle sliding down the slanting log of a tree, that was
like a little hill, only there was no snow on it.
"Why, they're coasting!" cried Grandpa Whackum. "And how they can do
it without snow I don't see."
"But I see!" said Uncle Wiggily. "Those two little beaver boys have
taken my butter that I left outside of your house and with the butter
they have greased the slanting log until it is slippery as ice. That's
how they slide down--on Nurse Jane's butter."
"Oh, the little rascals!" cried Grandpa Whackum.
"Well, they didn't mean anything wrong," Uncle Wiggily kindly said.
Then he called; "Toodle! Noodle! Is any of my butter left?"
"Your butter?" cried Noodle, surprised like.
"Was that your butter?" asked Toodle. "Oh, please forgive us! We
thought no one wanted it, and we took it to grease the log so we could
slide down. It was as good as sliding down a muddy, slippery bank of
mud into the lake."
"We used all your butter," spoke Noodle. "Every bit."
"Oh, dear! That's too bad!" Uncle Wiggily said. "It is now after 6
o'clock and all the stores will be closed. How can I get more?" And
he looked at the butter the beaver boys had spread on the tree. It
could not be used for bread, as it was all full of bark.
"Oh, how can I get some good butter for Nurse Jane?" asked the bunny
uncle sadly.
"Ha! I will give you some," spoke a voice high in the air.
"Who are you?" asked Uncle Wiggily, startled.
"I am the butternut tree," was the answer. "I'll drop some nuts down
and all you will have to do will be to crack them, pick out the meats
and squeeze out the butter. It is almost as good as that which you buy
in the store."
"Good!" cried Uncle Wiggily, "and thank you."
Then the butter tree rattled down some butternuts, which Uncle Wiggily
took home, and Nurse Jane said the butter squeezed from them was very
good. And Toodle and Noodle were sorry for having taken Uncle
Wiggily's other butter to make a slippery tree slide, but they meant no
harm.
So if the pussy cat doesn't take the lollypop stick to make a mud pie,
and not give any ice cream cones to the rag doll, I'll tell you next
about Uncle Wiggily and Lulu's hat.
STORY XI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND LULU'S HAT
"Uncle Wiggily, do you want to do something for me?" asked Nurse Jane
Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, of the rabbit gentleman one
day as he started out from his hollow stump bungalow to take a walk in
the woods.
"Do something for you, Nurse Jane? Why, of course, I want to," spoke
Mr. Longears. "What is it?"
"Just take this piece of pie over to Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady,"
went on Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy. "I promised to let her taste how I made
apple pie out of cabbage leaves."
"And very cleverly you do it, too," said Uncle Wiggily, with a polite
bow. "I know, for I have eaten some myself. I will gladly take this
pie to Mrs. Wibblewobble," and off through the woods Uncle Wiggily
started with it.
He soon reached the duck lady's house, and Mrs. Wibblewobble was very
glad indeed to get the piece of Nurse Jane's pie.
"I'll save a bit for Lulu and Alice, my two little duck girls," said
Mrs. Wibblewobble.
"Why, aren't they home?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"No, Lulu has gone over to a little afternoon party which Nannie
Wagtail, the goat girl, is having, and Alice has gone to see
Grandfather Goosey Gander. Jiminie is off playing ball with Jackie and
Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys, so I am home alone."
"I hope you are not lonesome," said Uncle Wiggily.
"Oh, no, thank you," answered the duck lady. "I have too much to do.
Thank Nurse Jane for her pie."
"I shall," Uncle Wiggily promised, as he started off through the woods
again. He had not gone far before, all of a sudden, he did not stoop
low enough as he was hopping under a tree and, the first thing he knew,
his tall silk hat was knocked off his head and into a puddle of water.
"Oh, dear!" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he picked up his hat. "I shall
never be able to wear it again until it is cleaned and ironed. And how
I can have that done out here in the woods is more than I know."
"Ah, but I know," said a voice in a tree overhead.
"Who are you, and what do you know?" asked the bunny uncle, surprised
like and hopeful.
"I know where you can have your silk hat cleaned and ironed smooth,"
said the voice. "I am the tailor bird, and I do those things. Let me
have your hat, Uncle Wiggily, and I'll fix it for you."
Down flew the kind bird, and Uncle Wiggily gave him the hat.
"But what shall I wear while I'm waiting?" asked the bunny uncle. "It
is too soon for me to be going about without my hat. I'll need
something on my head while you are fixing my silk stovepipe, dear
Tailor Bird."
"Oh, that is easy," said the bird. "Just pick some of those thick,
green leafy ferns and make yourself a hat of them."
"The very thing!" cried Uncle Wiggily. Then he fastened some woodland
ferns together and easily made himself a hat that would keep off the
sun, if it would not keep off the rain. But then it wasn't raining.
"There you are, Uncle Wiggily!" called the tailor bird at last. "Your
silk hat is ready to wear again."
"Thank you," spoke the bunny uncle, as he laid aside the ferns, also
thanking them. "Now I am like myself again," and he hopped on through
the woods, wondering whether or not he was to have any more adventures
that day.
Mr. Longears had not gone on very much farther before he heard a
rustling in the bushes, and then a sad little voice said:
"Oh, dear! How sad! I don't believe I'll go to the party now! All
the others would make fun of me! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
"Ha! That sounds like trouble!" said the bunny uncle. "I must see
what it means."
He looked through the bushes and there, sitting on a log, he saw Lulu
Wibblewobble, the little duck girl, who was crying very hard, the tears
rolling down her yellow bill.
"Why, Lulu! What's the matter?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"Oh, dear!" answered the little quack-quack child. "I can't go to the
party; that's what's the matter."
"Why can't you go?" Uncle Wiggily wanted to know. "I saw your mother a
little while ago, and she said you were going."
"I know I was going," spoke Lulu, "but I'm not now, for the wind blew
my nice new hat into the puddle of muddy water, and now look at it!"
and she held up a very much beraggled and debraggled hat of lace and
straw and ribbons and flowers.
"Oh, dear! That hat is in a bad state, to be sure," said Uncle
Wiggily. "But don't cry, Lulu. Almost the same thing happened to me
and the tailor bird made my hat as good as ever. Mine was all mud,
too, like yours. Come, I'll take you to the tailor bird."
"You are very kind, Uncle Wiggily," spoke Lulu, "but if I go there I
may not get back in time for the party, and I want to wear my new hat
to it, very much."
"Ha! I see!" cried the bunny uncle. "You want to look nice at the
party. Well, that's right, of course. And I don't believe the tailor
bird could clean your hat in time, for it is so fancy he would have to
be very careful of it.
"But you can do as I did, make a hat out of ferns, and wear that to
Nannie Wagtail's party. I'll help you."
"Oh, how kind you are!" cried the little duck girl.
So she went along with Uncle Wiggily to where the ferns grew in the
wood, leaving her regular hat at the tailor bird's nest to be cleaned
and pressed.
Uncle Wiggily made Lulu the cutest hat out of fern leaves. Oh, I wish
you could have seen it. There wasn't one like it even in the five and
ten-cent store.
"Wear that to Nannie's party, Lulu," said the rabbit gentleman, and
Lulu did, the hat being fastened to her feathers with a long pin made
from the stem of a fern. And when Lulu reached the party all the
animal girls cried out:
"Oh, what a sweet, lovely, cute, dear, cunning, swell and stylish hat!
Where did you get it?"
"Uncle Wiggily made it," answered Lulu, and all the girls said they
were going to get one just like it. And they did, so that fern hats
became very fashionable and stylish in Woodland, and Lulu had a fine
time at the party.
So this teaches us that even a mud puddle is of some use, and if the
rubber plant doesn't stretch too far, and tickle the gold fish under
the chin making it sneeze, the next story will be about Uncle Wiggily
and the snow drops.
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