And Mrs. Wibblewobble didn’t at all mind some of the leaves being off her rubber plant. So you see we should always be kind when we can; and if the canary bird doesn’t go to sleep in the bowl with the goldfish, and forget to whistle like an alarm clock in the morning, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the crumple-horn cow.
CHAPTER XIV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE CRUMPLE-HORN COW
“Where are you going, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she saw the rabbit gentleman starting out from his hollow-stump bungalow one day. He was back again from his visit to Sammie and Susie Littletail.
“Oh, I’m just going for a walk,” answered Mr. Longears. “I have not had an exciting adventure since I carried the valentines for Jack and Jill, before they tumbled down hill, and perhaps to-day I may find something else to make me lively, and happy and skippy like.”
“Too much hopping and skipping is not good for you,” the muskrat lady said.
“Yes, I think it is, if you will excuse me for saying so,” spoke Uncle Wiggily politely. “It keeps my rheumatism from getting too painful.”
Then, taking his red, white and blue-striped rheumatism crutch from inside the talking machine horn, Uncle Wiggily started off.
Over the fields and through the woods went the rabbit gentleman, until, pretty soon, as he was walking along, wondering what would happen to him that day, he heard a voice saying:
“Moo! Moo! Moo-o-o-o-o!”