Uncle Wiggilys Travels | Page 6

she flew to the store, while
Uncle Wiggily stayed with the new birdies, and they snuggled down
under his warm fur, and were as cozy as in their own mother's feathers.
Well, Mrs. Wren was gone some time, as the store was crowded and
she couldn't get waited on right away, and Uncle Wiggily stayed with
the birdies. And they got hungrier and hungrier, and they cried real
hard. Yes, indeed, as hard as some babies.
"Hum! I don't know what to do," said the old gentleman rabbit. "I can't
feed them. I guess I'll sing to them." So he sang this song:
"Hush, birdies, hush, Please don't cry; Mamma'll be back By and by.

"Nestle down close Under my fur, I'm not your mother, but I'm helping
her."
But this didn't seem to satisfy the birdies and they cried "cheep-cheep"
harder than ever.
"Oh, dear! I believe I must get them something to eat," said Uncle
Wiggily. So he covered them all up warmly with the feathers that lined
the nest, and then he hopped down and went limping around on his
crutch to find them something to eat.
Pretty soon he came to a little brook, and as he looked down into it he
saw something shining, all gold and red and green and blue and yellow.
"Why, I do declare, if here isn't the end of the rainbow!" exclaimed the
old gentleman rabbit, as he saw all the pretty colors.
He rubbed his eyes with his paw, to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but
the colors were surely enough there, down under water.
"No wonder the giant couldn't find the pot of gold, it was down in the
water," spoke the rabbit. "But I'll get it, and then my fortune will be
made. Oh, how glad I am!"
Well, Uncle Wiggily reached his paw down and made a grab for the red
and green and gold and yellow thing, but to his surprise, instead of
lifting up a pot of gold, he lifted up a squirming, wiggling sunfish.
"Oh, my!" exclaimed the rabbit in surprise.
"I should say yes! Two Oh mys and another one!" gasped the fish. "Oh,
please put me back in the water again. The air out on land is too strong
for me. I can't breathe. Please, Uncle Wiggily, put me back."
"I thought you were a pot of gold," said the rabbit, sadly. "I'm always
getting fooled. But never mind. I'll put you in the water."
"What are you doing here?" asked the fish, as he slid into the water
again and sneezed three times.

"Just at present I am taking care of Mrs. Wren's new little birdies," said
the rabbit. "She has gone to the store for something for them to eat, but
they are so hungry they can't wait."
"Oh, that is easily fixed," said the sunfish. "Since you were so kind to
me I'll tell you what to do. Get them a few little worms, and some small
flower seeds, and feed them. Then the birdies will go to sleep."
So Uncle Wiggily did this, and as soon as the birds had their hungry
little mouths filled, sound to sleep they went. And in a little while Mrs.
Wren came back from the store with her basket filled, and Mr. Wren
flew home to say that he had a nice position in a feather factory, and
how he did admire his birdies! He hugged and kissed them like
anything.
Then the two wrens both thanked Uncle Wiggily for taking care of their
children, and the rabbit said good-by and hopped on again to seek his
fortune. And if the trolley car conductor gives me a red, white and blue
transfer, for the pin cushion to go to sleep on, I'll tell you in the
following story about Uncle Wiggily and the yellow bird.

STORY IV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE YELLOW BIRD
Once upon a time, when Johnnie Bushytail was going along the road to
school, he met a fox--oh, just listen to me, would you! This story isn't
about the squirrel boy at all. It's about Uncle Wiggily Longears to be
sure, and the yellow bird, so I must begin all over again.
The day after the old gentleman rabbit had helped Mrs. Wren feed her
little birdies he found himself traveling along a lonely road through a
big forest of tall trees. Oh, it was a very lonesome place, and not even
an automobile was to be seen, and there wasn't the smell of gasoline,
and no "honk-honks" to waken the baby from her sleep.
"Hum, I don't believe I'll find any fortune along here," thought Uncle

Wiggily as he tramped on. "I haven't met even so much as a red ant, or
even a black one, or a grasshopper.