“Sometimes they do,” laughed the nice, kind lady goose, placing her soft feathered wing around him. “I once had an old grandmother goose who told me stories. I haven’t forgotten them. Oh, my, no! I told them to a man and he put them all in a book called “Grandmother Goosey’s Bedtime Rimes”!
“Tell me one,” said Little Jack Rabbit, sleepily.
“Once upon a time,” began the kind lady goose, but before she could say another word the bunny boy was sound asleep.
By and by the Old Dog Driver shouted, “Turnip City! All out!”
Sure enough, it was Turnip City! Just across Lettuce Square on the front porch of his pretty white house stood Uncle John Hare and behind him in the doorway, Mrs. Daisy Duck, his nice old housekeeper.
“Good-by,” cried Little Jack Rabbit, taking off his cap to the Old Lady Goose. Then away he hopped across the square and up the walk that led from the little white gate to the front piazza of Uncle John’s neat little bungalow.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” cried the nice old gentleman bunny, patting his small nephew on the head.
“And so am I,” quacked Mrs. Daisy Duck. “Now there’ll be somebody young and frisky in the house.”
“What, am I growing so old?” asked Uncle John Hare, hopping about on the piazza with Little Jack Rabbit.
