Then Sammie and Susie were quieter for a time, but soon they were almost as noisy as ever.

"Now you must run right away from here!" cried Uncle Wiggily, coming to the door of the underground house again, and he spoke still more crossly.

"What do you s'pose ails Uncle Wiggily?" asked Susie, as she and Sammie hopped away.

"I don't know," replied Sammie, "unless it's his rheumatism again."

"No, it can't be that. Don't you remember, the red fairy cured him?"

"Maybe it came back."

"Oh, no, fairies don't do things that way. I guess he must have indigestion. But I wish he wouldn't be so cross, especially when mamma has a headache and Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy can't come out to play with us. Oh, dear! Isn't it too bad?"

"What's too bad?" asked a little voice, under a big clump of gra.s.s, and at that moment what should come walking out but a little pink fairy. Oh, she was the dearest little thing you ever saw! I just wish I could take you to see her, but it's not allowed. Some day, perhaps--but there, I must get on with the story. Well, the little pink fairy stood out in the sunlight, and she asked again: "What is the matter?"

"Oh," explained Susie, who, by this time, had gotten used to fairies of all kinds, "Mamma has a headache, and Uncle Wiggily is cross."

"Headache, eh? Uncle Wiggily cross. Perhaps his gla.s.ses do not fit him,"

suggested the fairy.

"Oh, I guess there's nothing the matter with his spectacles," answered Sammie. "I saw him reading a book with them."

"You never can tell," declared the pink fairy. "Suppose you call him out here, and we'll take a look at his gla.s.ses. Maybe he has the wrong kind."

"What about mamma's headache?" asked Susie.

"Oh! I'll stop that in a minute," replied the fairy kindly, so she waved her magic wand in the air three times. "Now your mamma's head is all better," she added.

And, sure enough, when Susie ran in the burrow to ask Uncle Wiggily to come out, if Mamma Littletail's head wasn't all well. Wasn't that just fine? Well, at first Uncle Wiggily didn't want to come out. He was still cross, but finally Susie begged him so hard that he did. He saw the little pink fairy, and he asked, real cross like: "Well, what do you want of me?"

"Aha!" exclaimed the pink fairy. "I see what the trouble is. It's your spectacles."

"They're all right," growled Uncle Wiggily.

"They are not," declared the fairy very decidedly. "Let me look at them," and before you could say "p.u.s.s.y-cat Mole jumped over a coal," she frisked those gla.s.ses off. "Oh!" she cried, "look here, Sammie and Susie! What terribly gloomy spectacles!" Then she held them up, first in front of Sammie, and then in front of Susie. And when they looked through them the little rabbit children saw that everything was dark, and gloomy, and dreary, and even the sun seemed to be behind a cloud.

Oh, it was as cold and unpleasant as it is just before a snowstorm. "No wonder you were cross!" cried the fairy. "But I will soon fix matters!

Presto-chango! Ring around the rosey, sweet tobacco posey!" she cried, and then she rubbed first one pink finger on one gla.s.s, and then another pink finger on the other gla.s.s of the spectacles.

And a most wonderful thing happened, she smiled as she held the gla.s.ses up in front of Sammie and Susie, and as true as I'm telling you, if everything wasn't as bright and shining as a new tin dishpan. Oh, everything looked lovely! The flowers were gay, and the sun shone, and even the green gra.s.s was sort of pink, while the sky was rose-colored.

"There," said the fairy to Uncle Wiggily. "Try those."

So Uncle Wiggily Longears put on his gla.s.ses again, and he cried out:

"Why, goodness me! Oh, my suz-dud! Oh, turnips and carrots and a chocolate cake! Oh, my goodness me!"

"What's the matter?" asked Susie.

"Why, everything looks different," answered her uncle. "Oh, how much better I feel! Whoop-de-doodle-do!" and he began to dance a jiggity-jig.

"Who would have thought my gla.s.ses were so dark and gloomy?" he went on.

"I feel ever so much better, now. Come on, Sammie and Susie, and I'll buy you some cabbage ice cream. And you too, little pink fairy." You see, he had been looking through gloomy gla.s.ses all that while, and that was what made him cross.

"Oh, thank you, I only eat rose-leaf ice cream," the fairy said. "But I'm not hungry now. Good-luck to all of you, and may you be always happy!" Then she turned into a little bird and flew away singing, while Uncle Wiggily and the rabbit children went to the ice cream store. Now, unless I'm much mistaken, to-morrow night's story will be about Sammie and how he saved Billie Bushytail. But of course you never can tell what will happen.

x.x.x

SAMMIE SAVES BILLIE BUSHYTAIL

Sammie Littletail was out in a green field digging a burrow, or underground house. He didn't really need another house, for the one he, and his papa, and mamma, and sister, lived in was very nice, but, as he had nothing else to do, he thought he would dig a big hole, and, maybe, go all the way through to China. Sammie thought he would like to see how China looked, and he thought he might make the acquaintance of some Chinese rabbits.

Well, he hadn't gotten down very far, and he was still a good many miles from China, when he heard some one singing a song in a very loud voice.

Now I don't advise you to sing it quite so loudly, for you might awaken the baby, if you have one in your house. Anyway, it does just as well to sing it softly. This is the song Sammie heard:

"I want to be a sailor And sail the ocean blue.

I'd journey to a distant land And then come back to you.

I'd bring you lots of happiness, A big trunk filled with joy; A barrel full of hickory nuts For every girl or boy."

Well, when Sammie heard that he cried out:

"Is that a fairy?"

"No, it's me," was the answer.

"Oh, then you must be Billie or Johnnie Bushytail," went on Sammie, for he remembered that once the little boy squirrels went sailing and were shipwrecked.

"Yes, I'm Billie," said the voice, and then up popped the little squirrel. "But what did you say about a fairy?" he asked.

"I thought at first you were a fairy," continued Sammie, and then he stopped digging the hole in the ground. "There have been such a lot of fairies around here lately," Sammie added. "Red ones, and green ones, and blue ones, and--"

"Are you talking about Easter eggs or something else?" inquired Billie Bushytail.

"Fairies, of course."

"Oh, get out! Oh, ho! Don't tell me that! Why, how superfluous!" cried Billie, for that last was a new word he had just learned. "Don't mention fairies to me!" he continued.

"Why not?" Sammie wanted to know.

"Because I don't believe there are such things!" cried Billie, frisking his big tail until it looked like a dusting brush that they use after sweeping to knock the dust from the furniture onto the floor again.

"Don't talk to me like that, Sammie."

"Well," remarked the little boy rabbit, "all I've got to say is that there _are_ fairies! But where's Johnnie? Maybe he believes in 'em."

"No, he doesn't. Besides he's gone out walking with Sister Sallie. Come on, let's have a catch. Where's your ball?"

"I didn't bring it," replied Sammie. "But we can have some fun playing in this hole I've dug." So they played for some time, and pretty soon, oh, in about two and a half frisks of Billie's tail, what should happen, but that, all of a sudden, a great big hawk swooped down from the sky and grabbed that little boy squirrel up in its claws, and flew off with him. Well, you can just imagine how scared Sammie was. His nose wiggled so he sneezed three times. Then he looked up, and there was the hawk, flying away, and away, and away with poor Billie. Oh, wasn't it dreadful!