Little Jack Rabbit and Mr. Wicked Wolf. [Page 45]
Well, here we are. The Yellow Dog Tramp had just posted his photograph to his dear old mother way up in New Hampshire, and after he had thanked the postoffice lady, who was an old maid duck, he jumped into the sleigh and said:
“Hurry on, you Reindeer,
Make the snowflakes fly,
Faster, faster, faster,
Don’t you balk or shy!”
And then you should have seen how those Reindeer went. Well, sir, they went so fast that pretty soon their feet hardly touched the earth, and then they didn’t touch at all, and then, oh, me, oh, my! They rose right up in the air just like a low sailing rocket, over the treetops and over the steeples, over the houses and over the peoples. Goodness me!
There goes my typewriter again making up poetry and not putting it into verses, and if it does it again I’m going to change the ribbon and get one that is red, white and blue. My typewriter must show its color as well as a man!
Well, pretty soon, the old gentleman rabbit began to get uneasy, for he wasn’t used to sailing through the sky in a sleigh drawn by reindeer. “What do you think’s going to happen!” he asked anxiously.
“Oh, don’t worry, Uncle John,” answered the little rabbit. “I’ve often seen pictures of Santa Claus riding through the air in his sleigh.”