“No,” answered Uncle Wiggily, “but I think I need to shave off some of my whiskers. They are getting too long. Also I need a hair cut.”
“Gracious goodness me sakes alive, and some corn-meal muffin lollypops!” exclaimed Nurse Jane. “What for? A shave! A hair cut!”
“Well, you see,” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, “Spring is nearly here now, and, though I let my hair and whiskers grow long in the cold weather, to keep me warm, I don’t need them so long now, as it is getting warmer. So I shall go to the barber’s.”
“Why don’t you shave yourself?” asked Nurse Jane.
“I could do that,” the bunny uncle said. “Only I can’t very well cut my own hair. So I might as well have both done by the barber.”
The old gentleman rabbit, taking his red, white and blue-striped barber-pole rheumatism crutch down off the bathtub, started out through the woods and across the fields for the barber’s.
Mr. Longears had not gone very far before he came to the house where Mother Goose lived. She was up bright and early, shaking out her feather beds; and, seeing the old rabbit gentleman, she asked:
“Where are you going?”
“To the monkey-doodle barber’s to get shaved,” replied Uncle Wiggily.
“Oh, would you just as soon go to my barber’s?” asked Mother Goose.