THE KIND WILLOW TREE
Well, to go back to Little Jack Rabbit and Old Sic’em, who were watching Danny Fox sneak through the trees, as I mentioned two stories ago.
“Oh dear me! There is that dreadful fox again,” sighed the little bunny boy.
“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed the old watchdog, and he told the little rabbit all that I’ve just told you. And when he had finished, he went inside his little doghouse and brought out the tip of Danny Fox’s beautiful bushy tail.
Just then the Kind Farmer whistled from the woodpile, and away hopped the little rabbit to hide in the long meadow grass.
All of a sudden he met Timmy Meadowmouse near his little round house of woven grass, fastened on three stiff stalks.
“Helloa, Little Jack Rabbit. Are you hiding from somebody?” Just then, oh dear me! a big snake crawled out of the ground and away went the little meadowmouse, and away hopped the little bunny, and if Bobbie Redvest hadn’t told me, I don’t believe I ever would have found out where they did go.
Well, by and by, after a while, Little Jack Rabbit came to the Old Duck Pond where Granddaddy Bullfrog sat on his log all day fishing for flies and tiny fishes. Just overhead hung the old willow tree in which little Mrs. Oriole had her nest, fastened like an old stocking to one of the drooping branches.