“I have it!” suddenly cried Uncle Wiggily. “The popcorn balls. Snakes love them! I’ll make him eat them, and then he’ll let Grandpa Goosey go.” So from his valise the brave rabbit took the red and the white and the chocolate colored popcorn balls, and he rolled them along the ground, close to the snake’s nose. And the snake smelled them, and he was so hungry for them that he uncoiled himself from Grandfather Goosey’s legs, and let the old gentleman duck go. And the snake chased after the corn balls and ate them all up, and then he didn’t want anything more for a long while, and he went to sleep for six months and dreamed about turning into a hoop, and so he didn’t bother anybody.
So that’s how Uncle Wiggily saved the duck, and next, in case the pretty baby across the street doesn’t fall down and bump its nose, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the ice cream cones.
UNCLE WIGGILY’S ICE CREAM CONES
It didn’t take Uncle Wiggily and Grandfather Goosey Gander long to get away from the place where the bad snake was, let me tell you, even if the crawly creature had eaten three popcorn balls, and would sleep for six months.
“This is no place for us,” said the rabbit. “We must see if we can’t find our fortune somewhere else.”
“I believe you,” spoke Grandfather Goosey, rubbing his yellow legs, where the snake had wound tight around him like a clothesline. “We’ll look for a place in which to stay to-night, and we’ll see what we can find to-morrow.”
Well, they hurried on for some time, and pretty soon it began to get dark, and they couldn’t find any place to stay.
“I guess I’ll have to dig a hole in the ground, and make a burrow,” said the rabbit.
“Oh, but I couldn’t stay underground,” said the duck. “I’m used to sleeping in a wooden house.”
“That’s so,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Well, if I had some paper I could make you a paper house, but I haven’t any, so I don’t know what to do.”
And just then, away in the air, there sounded a voice saying:
“Caw! Caw! Caw!”
“Ha! That’s a crow,” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. “There must be green corn that is ready to pull up somewhere around here.”
“There is,” said the black crow, flying down. “I know a nice field of corn that a farmer has planted, and to-morrow I am going to pick some.”
“But aren’t you afraid of the scarecrow?” asked the duck.
“No; I’m not,” said the crow. “The scarecrow is only some old clothes stuffed with straw, and it is set out in the field to drive us crows away. We’re not a bit afraid of it. Would you be?”
“No, of course not,” answered Grandfather Goosey Gander. “But then, you see, I’m not a crow—the scary figure wasn’t meant for me.”
“Then you can stay in one of the pockets of the scarecrow’s coat all night,” said the crow. “It will be a good place for you to sleep.”