“What have you done with our little son?” demanded Mr. Rabbit and Lady Love.
“I haven’t seen him,” answered Old Man Weasel.
“Are you telling the truth?” asked the Elephant.
“I certainly am,” answered the old weasel. “I wouldn’t be hanging around here if I had caught a nice fat little bunny.”
“Well, you come along with us. That will keep you out of mischief. When we’ve found Little Jack Rabbit you can go home to your wife,” answered the big Elephant.
So off again started the party, Old Barney Owl ahead, next the two little rabbits, then the big Elephant and Old Man Weasel.
All of a sudden, just like that, there sounded a mournful howl. Oh, dear me! but it was a hair-raising, teeth-chattering, goosey-flesh kind of a cry.
“What’s that?” asked Lady Love, with a shiver.
“Mr. Wicked Wolf,” replied the big Elephant, with a loud trumpet. At once Mr. Wicked Wolf answered with a dismal howl. Then the Elephant trumpeted again.
“Mr. Wicked Wolf has a dismal howl