“All right,” answered Old Sic’em. “I’ll be on the lookout,” and with a wag of his curlicue,—beg pardon, I mean his long thin tail, he said good-by. Then away went the Luckymobile so fast that it nearly ran over a man who mended old tin pails, wash boilers and maybe other things.
“Helloa, there!” shouted Uncle Lucky, “can you mend a hole in my woolen sock?”
“Don’t you poke fun at me,” answered the tin man with a dreadful angry look, “rabbits don’t wear stockings!” But when Uncle Lucky handed him a ten carrot gold piece the tin man began to smile.
Pretty soon the old gentleman bunny spied a great tremendous pumpkin in a cornfield.
“Whoa!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky to the Luckymobile, which stopped just like that, only maybe a little quicker. “Let’s take the pumpkin home with us.” But, dear me! how disappointed he was after hopping over the fence. The pumpkin was so heavy that dear Uncle Lucky couldn’t lift it to save his whiskers. Neither could Little Jack Rabbit.
“What shall we do?” asked the little bunny.
All of a sudden the Old Scarecrow, who had been sound asleep all this time, woke up.
“Let me help you,” he said and, jumping out, lifted the pumpkin up in his arms into the Luckymobile without even scratching the shell.
As soon as the Scarecrow was seated, away they went and pretty soon, not so very far, nor so very long, they came to a cross road. Right there stood a big sign post on which was written:
“To Rabbitville, 1 mile