That’s the story I told you last night, if you will kindly remember.
So Uncle Wiggily hopped along, over the fields and through the woods, and pretty soon he came to where Mother Goose lived, not far from his own hollow-stump bungalow. Mother Goose was looking up at the sky.
“Good morning! What are you looking for?” asked the bunny uncle. “Are you looking for signs of rain, or snow in the clouds?”
“No, indeed,” laughed Mother Goose. “But you know this is the first day of Spring, and the little birds should begin to sing. I am looking to see if the blackbirds are flying up from down South, where they went to spend the Winter. They always come back in the Spring, you know.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Wiggily. “But I do not see any blackbirds coming,” and he, too, looked up at the sky. It was blue—very blue and pretty—like babies’ eyes. And there were little white clouds in the sky, floating along like fairy ships. But there were no blackbirds to be seen.
“I hope nothing has happened to them,” said Mother Goose, sort of anxious like. “They should be here now.”
“I, too, hope they are all right,” Uncle Wiggily said. “I am going for a walk, and if I see the blackbirds, I will tell them to hurry, as you are looking for them.”
“I’ll be very glad if you do that,” spoke Mother Goose, and then she had to go next door to see if Little Bo Peep had found her lost sheep.
Once more Uncle Wiggily hopped along. He looked on all sides of him, and up in the air, hoping he might see the blackbirds, for then, surely, it would be Spring, and Winter had lasted all too long for the animal folk.
But no birds could the bunny uncle see. On and on he went, until, after a while, he came to the palace where lived Old King Cole, the jolly old soul. And, as Mr. Longears was wondering whether or not to go in, and pay King Cole a visit, he heard some one humming a verse that went like this: