But Uncle Wiggily took his crutch, and tickled the cowbird so that she sneezed, and had to fly away without doing any harm. And Uncle Wiggily called after her that she ought to be ashamed of herself not to build her own nests. And I guess that cowbird was ashamed, but I’m not sure. Anyhow she came back a little later and gathered up her eggs off the ground, and flew away with them, and what she did with them I’ll tell you; oh, just as soon as you like.
The bedtime story then will be about Uncle Wiggily and the tailor bird—that is, if the needle and thread don’t dance up and down on the pin cushion, and make it full of holes so the sawdust stuffing comes out and tickles the baby’s pink toes.
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE TAILOR BIRD
After Uncle Wiggily and the pussy had helped the robin get the cowbird’s eggs out of her nest, as I told you in the story before this, the rabbit and the kittie stayed in the woods a little while talking to the mamma bird.
“I should like to see the little robins hatch out of the eggs,” said the pussy, as she frisked her tail about and smoothed out her fur.
“So should I,” added Uncle Wiggily.
“I will gladly let you see my little birdies hatch,” spoke the robin, “but it will take nearly a week yet, and you will have to wait.”
“Oh, I can’t wait as long as that,” went on the rabbit. “I must be off to seek my fortune.”
“Yes, and I must go and find my clothespin house,” said the pussy.
So they said good-by to the mamma robin, and away the pussy and Uncle Wiggily went, over the hills and down the dales through the woods and over little brooks.
Pretty soon they came to a place in the woods where there were a whole lot of flowers nodding their heads in the wind, and it was such a pretty place that Uncle Wiggily and the pussy stayed there a little while. And in about a minute they heard something flying through the bushes and out flew that same cowbird, and she laughed just as hard as she could laugh, as she passed along.
“Somebody is going to be surprised!” cried the cowbird and she fluttered her wings at the rabbit and the kittie, and then she hid herself off in the woods.
“I wonder what she means?” asked the pussy.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied the rabbit. “But did you notice that she didn’t have her eggs with her?”
“Sure enough!” exclaimed the pussy. “She must have left them in some other bird’s nest.”
“Well, we had better keep on, for it is getting late,” spoke Uncle Wiggily, “and I want to find your clothespin house for you.”
On they hurried through the trees, and pretty soon—Oh, I guess about as long as it takes you to eat a stick of peppermint candy—they suddenly came to the pussy’s clothespin house.
“Oh, here’s where I live!” she cried. “How glad I am to get back home!” She hurried in through the front door and no sooner was she inside than she cried out: