So the mice, who have very squeaky voices, sang nice music, almost like the fiddles, and Old King Cole was a more merry soul than ever.
“I’m glad you came, Uncle Wiggily,” he said. “And I’m glad you brought the nice Longtail mice children with you. Give them all some cheese!” And he laughed most jolly-jilly like.
So the mice sang for the king until the fiddlers’ fiddle strings were fixed, and every one had a good time and plenty to eat.
And if the jam tart doesn’t get inside the huckleberry pie, where the egg beater can’t find it to dance with, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Peter-Peter.
CHAPTER XI
UNCLE WIGGILY AND PETER-PETER
“Uncle Wiggily, don’t you think you’d better take an umbrella with you?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as the rabbit gentleman, Mr. Longears, started out from his hollow-stump bungalow one morning.
“An umbrella, Nurse Jane? Why should I take one with me? I have my red, white and blue-striped barber-pole rheumatism crutch, that you gnawed for me out of a corn-stalk.”
“That wouldn’t be much good in a rain-storm,” said the muskrat lady, with a laugh. “It wouldn’t keep off many of the drops.”
“No, I s’pose not,” said the bunny uncle, sort of rubbing his pink, twinkling nose, thoughtful like, with the brim of his tall silk hat. “So you think it is going to rain, do you?”