"N—no—no—not—much," spoke Jumpo, slowly.
"They're always getting stuck, and won't go, and then you have to get out and walk, and besides they use so much gasoline, and—and gasoline smells so—so funny! Say, we don't need an auto. Let's give the mousie girl this money."
"All right," said Jumpo, so Jacko handed the poor little girl the $1.17.
"There," said Jacko, "take it home and get some coal and something to eat. We don't want an auto, anyway."
"Oh, thank you so much!" exclaimed the mousie girl, as she hurried away.
"Well, I—I guess we might as well go back home," said Jacko, sadly, after a bit.
"Yes," agreed Jumpo, and they started off together. Well, they hadn't gone very far before they heard a bangity-bang noise down the street, and, running up, they saw Uncle Wiggily standing in front of his auto. It was standing still and smoking and making a terrible racket and a policeman dog was saying:
"Come, now, Mr. Wiggily, you'll have to move along."
"Move along! I only wish I could," cried the old gentleman rabbit. "I never saw such a pesky automobile! It's always stopping. I've jiggled and joggled and tickled everything from the whoop-de-doodle-do down to the slam-bangity-what-is-it, but it won't go. I'm done with it. Whoever wants it can have it!"
"Oh, may we have it?" cried Jacko, as Uncle Wiggily started toward the sidewalk, leaving the auto in the street.