“Help! Help!” shouted the long-legged camera man bird, giving a kick-out with his long left leg.
“Keep quiet,” snarled Old Man Weasel, trying his best to bite the poor struggling Crane’s bobbing-about head.
“Help! help!” shouted more loudly Photographer Crane. “Help! Help! Please help me, somebody!”
“I will,” replied the Policeman Dog, swinging his big hickory stick in the air. Down it came, whacko! on the wicked Weasel’s little red cap.
“Ouch! Ouch!” he whined, letting Photographer Crane go in a hurry.
The next minute the Policeman Dog slipped a pair of handcuffs over that old Weasel’s front paws.
“Dear, dear me!” sighed poor Photographer Crane, struggling to his feet, no easy matter, let me tell you. Like walking up to the top of the Woolworth Building when the elevators are on strike! At last, when he had straightened out his long, thin knobby legs, he turned to the kind Policeman Dog.
“Whenever you want your picture taken, come to me. I’ll take you in fourteen different poses for less than nothing. Why, I’ll tint them in pretty colors and maybe win a Little Jack Rabbit book for a prize.”
Then off he went to the Old Bramble Patch as the Policeman Dog trotted away with Old Man Weasel to the Jail House in Carrot City.
At last Photographer Crane reached the Old Bramble Patch. There stood Lady Love and Little Jack Rabbit at the front gate, dressed in their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, ready and smiling for a picture.