“Turn around once in a while,” replied Uncle Lucky, “that’s what I do!”
“Don’t set your coat tails on fire,” advised Little Miss Mousie, as she nibbled a piece of angel cake.
Pretty soon, the Old Red Rooster came in with the Bunnybridge Bugle, the nice morning paper that dear Uncle Lucky loves to read when breakfast is over.
Taking out a cabbage leaf cigar, he slipped his feet into his comfortable woolen slippers and, placing his gold-rimmed spectacles on his nose, sat down in his big arm chair.
Pitter, patter, went the rain
On the misty window pane;
While the fire’s cheerful glow
Warmed his poor rheumatic toe.
By this time Daddy Longlegs was nice and dry, so he, too, sat down to read by the fire, and Little Miss Mousie, seeing that nobody wished to talk, scampered back to her little house in the corner of the sitting room. As for the Old Red Rooster, he hurried out to the barn to mend the old wheelbarrow.
Pitter, patter, sings the rain