“Oh, because if you sting the porcupine you might get stuck with his stickery-stockery quills,” said the voice. “But the rabbit can’t hurt you. Besides, if you sting him for me I will give you a popcorn ball.”
“Why are you so anxious for me to sting the rabbit?” asked the wasp, as he flittered his steely-blue wings.
“Oh, if you do that it will scare him so that he won’t know which way to run, and then, when he is all puzzled up, I can jump out on him and eat him up!” said the voice. “I have been wanting a rabbit dinner this long time,” and with that out from the bushes crawled the bad fox.
“Very well,” said the wasp, “I’ll sting the rabbit on the end of his twinkling nose for you, and then you must give me a popcorn ball,” for you know wasps like sweet things.
So the wasp got ready to sting poor Uncle Wiggily, and all this while the rabbit and the porcupine were peacefully sleeping there under the ferns, and they didn’t know what was going to happen.
“Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!” went the wasp, as he flew closer to Uncle Wiggily. He was all ready to sting him, when a piece of bark happened to fall off a tree and hit the porcupine on his left ear, waking him up. He opened his eyes very quickly, thinking that a fairy was throwing snowballs at him, and then the porcupine heard the wasp buzzing, and he saw the wasp flying straight toward Uncle Wiggily to sting him, and next the porcupine saw the bad fox.
“Ha! So that is how things are, eh?” cried the porcupine, as he jumped up. “Well, I’ll soon put a stop to that!”
So, before you could fan yourself with a feather, the porcupine took out one of his stickers, and he stuck the wasp with it so hard that the bad wasp was glad enough to fly away, taking his stinger with him.
“Now, it’s your turn!” cried the porcupine to the fox, and with that he threw a whole lot of his sharp quills at the fox, and that bad creature ran away howling. And then Uncle Wiggily woke up and wanted to know what it was all about, and what made the buzzing and howling noises.
“You had a narrow escape,” said the porcupine as he told the rabbit about the wasp and the fox.
“I guess I did,” admitted Uncle Wiggily. “I’m much obliged to you. Now let’s have supper.”
So they ate their supper, and that’s all I can tell you for the present, if you please. But, in case I see a little pig with a pink ribbon tied in his curly tail, I’ll make the next bedtime story, about Uncle Wiggily and the bluebell.
UNCLE WIGGLY AND THE BLUEBELL
Well, I didn’t see any little pig with a pink ribbon tied in his kinky, curly tail, but I’ll tell you a story just the same if you’d like to hear it.
Once upon a time, a good many years ago, when—Oh, there I go again! I’m always making mistakes like that, of late. That’s a story about a giant that I was thinking of, whereas I meant to tell you one about Uncle Wiggily, and what happened to him.