Billy Bunny and Uncle Bull Frog | Page 8

just like a gun, you know, that the wildcat was frightened
nearly to death and she turned around and ran away so fast that she got
home an hour too early for supper.

STORY XI.
BILL BUNNY AND THE BIG BEAR.
Near the Friendly Forest Pool Is the Woodland Singing School. Little
Squirrel Bushy Tail Sings the Do, Ray, Mee, Fa scale. Uncle Bullfrog
sings "Ker-chunk" From his floating elm tree trunk. And a big
good-natured bear Sings an old familiar air.
"It's time for your singing lesson," said Mrs. Bunny to her little rabbit.
So Billy Bunny started off, hoppity hop, down the Friendly Forest trail,
and by and by he reached the Pool where all the pupils came to take
their singing lessons.

Mr. Grasshopper was there with his fiddle and the tree toad with his
drum, and the lark with her flute and little Jenny Wren with her piano.
And what do you suppose Billy Bunny had tucked away in his
knapsack? Why, Uncle Lucky's automobile horn.
You see, the kind old gentleman rabbit was making a visit at the Old
Brier Patch where he had taken his automobile after that dreadful
wildcat had bitten the front tire, and this is how Billy Bunny came to
get the horn.
Well, sir, after the music started, he pulled out his horn and gave a
tre-men-dous honk on it, and everybody thought an automobile was
going to run over him.
Some jumped into the Pool and some ran up the trees, and, oh, dear me!
everybody got all out of tune, and the bear lost the air and couldn't find
it again!
And just then who should come along but a peddler with a pack of tin
cans, rattling away on his back, and of course he made more noise than
all the singing school put together.
And when the big bear saw him he was so angry that he jumped from
behind a tree and said, "Boo!"
"Do you want to buy a tin plate?" asked the peddler, trying hard not to
be frightened, "or would rather have a dishpan?"
"Don't want either," said the bear with a terrible growl.
"Perhaps you'd like a nutmeg grater," said the poor old peddler, and he
was so frightened by this time that his knees knocked into the tin pans
and made a dreadful noise.
"I've a dandy egg beater," went on the peddler, in a trembling voice, but
after that he never said another word, for that great big bear jumped
right at him and took the egg beater out of his hands and growled so
terribly that the tin peddler turned away and ran down the forest path as

fast as he could go.
And then all the little and big forest folk began to sing:
"Hip, hip hurray, the peddler's gone away. No more he'll make his tin
pans shake And spoil our singing school beside the Forest Pool."
And in the next story, if the baby who lives in the house opposite
doesn't shake his rattle at me all night so that I can't get to sleep and
dream about the next story in time to write it for to-morrow night, I'll
tell you more about the little rabbit's adventures.

STORY XII.
BILLY BUNNY AND THE RABBITVILLE "GAZETTE."
There was once a little rabbit Who was very fond of pie, Apple pie,
with sugar on the crust. And he had a little habit, When his mother
wasn't nigh, Of eating apple pie until he bust.
This is what Mr. William Bunny, the little rabbit's father, you know,
was singing one day, and the reason was because Mrs. Bunny had
found little Billy Bunny in the pantry.
And what happened to the little rabbit I'm not going to tell you, for it is
so sad that it would make you weep to hear it.
"All day he nibbled pie Till at last I thought he'd die," Said the doctor
with a sigh.
And then Mr. William Bunny looked at his small son and sighed, too,
for he had just paid the doctor's bill.
"Please don't sing any more," said little Billy Bunny. "Don't you
remember the doctor said I was to be kept quiet?"
So Mr. William Bunny went out on the porch to smoke a cigar and read

the Rabbitville "Gazette" until after supper time.
And while he was reading Mrs. Bunny looked over his shoulder and
read: "Wanted, a secondhand automobile in good condition."
"Ring up your Uncle Lucky on the telephone," she called to Billy
Bunny. "Here's a chance for him to sell his Luckymobile." So the little
rabbit rang up 000 Lettuceville, and in a few minutes he heard the old
gentleman's voice at the other end of the wire.
"But I don't want to