“I’ll save you, Bunty! I’ll save you!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Don’t jump out of the carriage. I’ll get you! I can hop fast, even if I am stiff!”
With one big, extra long hop he reached the carriage, and caught hold of it in his paws just as it was going to tip over. He looked inside, thinking to see Baby Bunty half frightened out of her eye teeth, but, instead, there was only a big bouquet of wild flowers.
“Well! Well! What does this mean?” asked Uncle Wiggily, all out of breath, but still not stiff any more. “What is all this?”
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Baby Bunty, from the top of the hill, where she stood with Grandpa Goosey, “did you think I was in that runaway carriage?”
“I certainly did!” answered Mr. Longears.
“Why, I wasn’t at all!” laughed Baby Bunty. “I just used it to hold the wild flowers I picked. And when I wheeled it to the top of the hill it slipped away from me, and ran down. My! But you did run fast, Uncle Wiggily!”
“I should say he did!” quacked Granda Goosey. “Faster than I ever saw him hop before.”
“But it’s good for his rheumatism,” spoke Baby Bunty.
Mr. Longears never said a word as he wheeled the carriage up hill. But if the ice cream doesn’t melt when the gas stove asks it to dance the fox trot, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Bunty’s party.