Little Jack Rabbit and Mr. Wicked Wolf

by David Cory

THE BUNNYSNOWBILE

Well, just as Little Jack Rabbit hopped into this story, Uncle John Hare, who was all alone in his little white house, gave a lonely sigh, and, as soon as he had finished breakfast, he hopped out over the snow to his garage to get his Bunnysnowbile. Dear me! I forgot to mention that he had fastened on runners in place of the four wheels and now had a wonderful autosleighbile or something just as good as a bobsled going down hills.

It didn’t take him long to find Little Jack Rabbit and very soon they were gliding along as nicely as you please. The Bunnysnowbile behaved very well. You see, it was such a short time after Xmas that it hadn’t grown tired of looking at the Xmas presents, like a good many little girls and boys I know, and so it slid along over the snow and didn’t try to climb up any telegraph poles, and this made Uncle John Hare feel very pleasant, so he began to sing:

“The glad New Year has come and so

We’ll try until next year

To be as good as we can be

And help our friends to cheer.”

But, oh, dear me! Just then, all of a sudden, just like that, out popped Mr. Wicked Wolf I’ve so often told you about. And oh, dear me! again. Didn’t he look fierce? His collar was turned up and his mouth was wide open, and his long, white teeth looked so cruel that Uncle John Hare shut his eyes, and then, I hate to tell it, the Bunnysnowbile ran right into a big tree and turned over three times and a half, and it might have turned-over once more if it hadn’t landed right up against an old hollow stump.

Which you’ll soon see was mighty lucky for the two little rabbits. For when Mr. Wicked Wolf saw them sprawling over the snow he jumped as quick as a wink and maybe he would have caught dear, kind Uncle John Hare if that old gentleman rabbit hadn’t hopped inside that stump.

And before he was inside Little Jack Rabbit was, too, so that all Mr. Wicked Wolf could do was to sit outside and wait for them to come out. But they didn’t. No, sireemam, and no, sireemister. They knew better than that, and so would I if I didn’t have a gun and a pistol and maybe a big long knife.

“Well, I can sit here as long as you can,” said that dreadful wolf, and he licked his lips with his long red tongue and grinned, oh, a dreadful kind of a grin.

“Very well, then,” replied Uncle John Hare. “If you want to sit in the cold snow, do so,” and then the old gentleman rabbit took off his old wedding stovepipe hat and blocked up the hole in the hollow stump so that the wolf couldn’t see what was going on inside, you know. And then the old gentleman rabbit looked around to see if there was any way to get out.

Well, by and by, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit found a small hole in the back of the stump, and taking his pickaxe out of his knapsack, set to work to dig a hole big enough to squeeze through, into the next story.

THE OLD WEDDING STOVEPIPE
HAT

You remember where we left off in the last story, I hope. But in case you don’t, I’ll tell you. Little Jack Rabbit and dear, kind Uncle John Hare were hiding in a hollow stump and Mr. Wicked Wolf was sitting outside waiting to eat them up. But he won’t if I can help it. No, sireebus! Not if I have to call up the Policeman Dog to help these two little rabbits.

Well, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit made a hole in the back of the stump through which he and the old gentleman rabbit could just squeeze.

But before they did, the little rabbit put his pickaxe back in his knapsack, because he might have to use it some time again, and one doesn’t find pickaxes lying around loose, let me tell you.

Not in these days when iron costs almost as much as sugar and sugar costs more than diamonds, and diamonds—well, I don’t know what they cost, for I never wear any.

“Oh, dear! I hate to leave my old wedding stovepipe hat in that hole,” said dear, kind Uncle John Hare, which you remember he had stuffed up with his old silk hat to keep Mr. Wicked Wolf from looking in.

“We’ll make a snowball and put it there instead,” said Little Jack Rabbit, and when that was done, they both hopped quietly out of the back door. But, oh, dear me. After they were once out, they were afraid to go any further, for Mr. Wicked Wolf would surely see them.

So they hopped inside and closed up the back hole with the old wedding stovepipe hat, and then they didn’t know what to do. And neither do I, so I hope somebody will help those two poor little rabbits.

Well, after a while, along came Danny Fox. So Mr. Wicked Wolf said to him: “You go around to the back of the stump and see if you can find out anything, and I’ll stay here.”

Then Danny Fox crept around and as soon as he saw Uncle John Hare’s old wedding stovepipe hat in the hole he knew who was inside. You bet he did, even if he hadn’t smelt rabbit or seen little rabbit footprints in the snow.

And then, pretty soon, Mr. Wicked Wolf pushed in the snowball and then he pushed his head inside. But when he tried to pull it out, his head, you know, not the snowball, he couldn’t. No, sireemam.

His head was stuck fast. But it isn’t very pleasant to have a big wolf’s head inside a hollow stump when there’s hardly room enough for you, let me say, and of course the two little rabbits were almost scared to death.

And when Danny Fox saw what was the matter, he laughed so hard that he rolled over and over on the snow and the first thing he knew he rolled right down the hill.

Quick as a minute Uncle John Hare put on his hat and he and Little Jack Rabbit hopped away as fast as they could, and even faster, and pretty soon they came to the Old Bramble Patch, where Lady Love, the little bunny’s mother, stood waiting for them.