“I’ve got a pair of rubber boots,” said the little rabbit. And would you believe it, that Goat ate those rubber boots up too and then asked for more.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” sighed Billy Bunny, and he hunted all through his knapsack again until he found a policeman’s whistle. “That’s all I’ve got left, Mr. Billy Goat.”
“Well, I’ll eat that for dessert,” and the hungry, starving goat commenced to eat that whistle as though he hadn’t tasted any kind of food for a year and five minutes. But would you believe me again? That whistle began to whistle and this so scared the Billy Goat that he ran away.
And if that whistle doesn’t keep me awake all night so that I’ll have to sleep all day tomorrow I’ll tell you in the next story how Billy Bunny went to see his kind Uncle Lucky.
STORY VII—BILLY BUNNY AND THE HEAD OF LETTUCE
Oh, it’s dreadful to be lonely,
Even when you’re not alone,
And you may be dreadful mournful
Though you have a happy tone.
And your lips may keep a-smiling
Though the tears are in your eyes.
Have you never seen it raining,
When the sun is in the skies?
If the one you want to be with
Isn’t all the time with you,
There is nothing that will make you
Feel anything but blue.
And this was the way little Billy Bunny felt. You see, he hadn’t seen his dear, kind Uncle Lucky for so long that the gold watch and chain which the old gentleman rabbit had given him needed winding.
So after the little rabbit had wound up the chain and put the watch back in his pocket, he started out to see his uncle, Mr. Lucky Lefthindfoot, who lived on Carrot street, near Lettuce Avenue, Bunnybridge, U. S. A.
Well, after Billy Bunny had hopped and hopped and then some more, he came to a cross road, and the sign on the post said, “5,281½ hops to Bunnybridge.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m on the right road,” said the little rabbit, and he took half a hop so as to start out even, you know, because he never did like fractions, and by and by he came to Lettuce avenue. But just then something happened. Something usually does happen when you least expect it, and that’s what’s going to happen now if my typewriter doesn’t get balky and throw my hands off the keyboard.