So away he went in his airship, and when he got near the top of the tree, with the electric fan buzzing and the toy balloons lifting him up, the rabbit gentleman called:
“See me, birdies! I am flying, and you know a rabbit has no wings. Look!”
“Exactly,” said the mamma bird. “See, little ones! If Uncle Wiggily is not afraid to fly, you should not be, for you were made on purpose for sailing through the air, and he was not.”
“And I’ll keep right under you with my airship, to catch you if you fall,” said Uncle Wiggily. “Don’t be afraid, birdies!”
“All right! Here we come!” cried Pickie, getting brave all of a sudden. Off the limb he fluttered, and his brothers and sisters fluttered after him, flapping their wings.
“Oh, we are flying!” they cried joyfully. “We can fly!”
“I knew you could,” called their mamma, soaring on her wings after them. “And how proud your papa will be! Thank you so much, Uncle Wiggily, for making my birdies brave enough to fly.”
“Pray do not mention it,” answered the rabbit gentleman politely, as he sailed about in his airship.
He kept under the little birds for a while, in case they might fall, but none of them did, and soon they fluttered back to the nest for supper. They had learned to fly and were not afraid any more. Wasn’t that good?
And in the next story, if the dish doesn’t run away with the spoon and go to the moving picture show in our back yard, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and Grandfather Goosey Gander.