Well, after that, the little rabbit hopped along, clipperty-lipperty, and by and by he saw Mr. Wicked Wolf. Oh, dear me. Wasn’t that dreadful, for who wants to meet a wolf even if his first name isn’t wicked?
“Hello, little bunny. I haven’t seen you since the last time.”
“I wish you still had your head in the Hollow Stump,” shivered Little Jack Rabbit, and then he wiggled his little pink nose so fast that Mr. Wicked Wolf had to shut his eyes for fear he’d get dizzy.
“Stop that,” he shouted. “My head is going around and around and I can’t keep my feet in one place on the ground.”
“I can’t either,” said the little rabbit, “I’m so frightened.” And before that dreadful wolf opened his eyes, Little Jack Rabbit hopped into an old hollow stump.
Well, pretty soon, Mr. Wicked Wolf opened one eye, just a little bit, you know, and then he opened the other eye a little bit, but he couldn’t see the little rabbit anywhere, so he opened both his eyes, blink, blink, just like that.
“Where are you?” he asked, and he jumped over to the hollow stump, following the little rabbit’s footprints in the snow, you see. But when he looked down into the hollow stump there wasn’t any little white shivering bunny there. No, Sireemam and No, Sireebus and No, Siree, Mr. Prohibition Man.
MR. MINER MOLE
Now, I suppose you’ve been wondering what had become of Little Jack Rabbit after hopping into the old hollow stump to get away from Mr. Wicked Wolf. Well, you haven’t wondered nearly as much as that old wicked wolf has, let me tell you. Why, he was so puzzled that he sat down and took an Almanac out of his pocket and read it all through, but even then he didn’t know anything.
“Goodness me, where has that little bunny gone?” he said, and then he jumped right into the old hollow stump, head first, kerplump, just like that. Down, down he went, until all of a sudden he landed somewhere he didn’t just know where.