But no sooner had he said this, than Uncle Wiggily heard the jolliest laugh he had ever known.  Oh! it was such a rippling, happy joyous laugh that it would almost cure the toothache just to listen to it.

“Ha!  Ha!  Ho!  Ho!  He!  He!” laughed the voice, and Uncle Wiggily looked up, and he looked down, and then he looked sideways and around a corner, but he could see no one.  Still the laugh kept up, more jolly than ever.

“Humph!  I wonder who that is?” said the rabbit.  “I wish I could laugh like that,” and Uncle Wiggily actually smiled the least little bit, and he didn’t feel quite so sad.

Then, all at once, there was a voice singing, and this is the song, and if you feel sad when you sing it, just get some one to tickle you, or watch baby’s face when he smiles, and you will feel jolly enough to sing this song, even if you have been crying because you stubbed your toe.

    “Ha!  Ha!  Ho!  Ho!  I gladly sing,
    I sing about most anything. 
    I sing about a pussy cat,
    Who caught a little mousie-rat. 
    I sing about a doggie-dog,
    Who saw a turtle on a log. 
    I sing about a little boy,
    Who cried because he broke his toy. 
    And then he laughed, ‘Ha!  Ha!  He!  He!’
    Because he couldn’t help it; see?”

“Well, well!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, “I wish I knew who that was.  Perhaps it is a fairy, and if it is, I’m going to ask her for my fortune.  I’m getting tired of not finding it,” and when he thought about that he was sad again.

But a moment later a little black creature hopped out from under a leaf, and who should it be but a cricket.

“Was that you laughing?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, as he again looked in his valise to see if he had any sandwiches there.  “Was it you?”

“It was,” said the cricket.  “I was just going—­Oh, kindly excuse me, while I laugh again!” the cricket said, and then he laughed more jolly than before.

“What makes you so good-natured?” asked the rabbit.

“I just can’t help it,” said the cricket.  “Everything is so lovely.  The sun shines, and the birds sing, and the water in the brooks babble such jolly songs, and well—­Oh, excuse me again if you please, I’m going to laugh once more,” and so he did then and there.  He just laughed and laughed and laughed, that cricket did.

“Well,” said Uncle Wiggily, still speaking sadly, “of course it’s nice to be jolly, anybody can be that way when the sun shines, but what about the rain?  There!  I guess you can’t be jolly when it rains.”

“Oh! when it rains I laugh because I know it will soon clear off, and then, too, I can think about the days when the sun did shine,” said the cricket.

“Well,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, “there is something in that, to be sure.  And as you are such a jolly chap, will you travel along with me?  Perhaps with you I could find my fortune.”

“Of course I’ll come,” said the cricket, and he laughed again, and then he and the old gentleman rabbit hopped on together and Uncle Wiggily kept feeling more and more happy until he had forgotten all about the chipmunk’s penny that wasn’t his.