Uncle Wiggily's fishing trip - Howard Roger Garis

Uncle Wiggily’s Fishing Trip Or The Good Luck He Had With the Clothes Hook

“Where are you going, boys?” asked Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman one day, as he stood in front of his hollow stump bungalow. Nurse Jane was on the steps, shaking the wrinkles out of the table cloth. Going past, with poles over their shoulders, was Jackie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boy, and Charlie Chick, the little rooster chap. “Where are you going?” Uncle Wiggily asked them. “Fishing,” answered Jackie. “Don’t you want to come?” crowed Charlie, the rooster. “Yes, I think I might go, later on, perhaps,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“Why, Uncle Wiggily!” cried Nurse Jane, as she looked out the window. “You’ll let all my nicely washed clothes down in the mud if you loosen that line! Please stop!” Uncle Wiggily stopped, but he said: “I want a bit of line to go fishing with, Nurse Jane. You have more than you need here.” The muskrat lady laughed. “I’ll get you an extra piece that has no clothes hanging on it,” she said. “But aren’t you afraid the sharp hook will hurt the fish you catch?” Uncle Wiggily shook his head. “I’m going to use a smooth hammock hook,” he said.

“So you are going fishing, are you?” Nurse Jane called after the bunny rabbit gentleman who hopped down the road. “Yes,” he answered. “You gave me a bit of clothes line, I’ll use my rheumatism crutch for a pole, the dull hammock hook will not hurt the fish, and for bait I’ll give them some of the cherry pie you put up for my lunch.” Nurse Jane waved her paw, and said she hoped the bunny gentleman would have good luck and bring home plenty of fish. “Uncle Wiggily thinks he’ll catch something,” said the Pipsisewah to Skeezicks, “but we’ll catch him!”

“Well, now I am all ready to begin fishing,” said Uncle Wiggily to himself, as he sat down on a green, mossy bank, in a shady nook beside a little brook. “I’ll bait the dull hammock hook with a nice, sweet, juicy bit of cherry pie, and then we’ll see what I shall catch.” Hiding behind the rabbit gentleman, in the bushes, the Skeezicks and Pipsisewah whispered to one another about catching Uncle Wiggily. “I only hope I don’t spoil my nice, new hat,” said the Skee. “And I hope nothing happens to my new cap,” spoke the Pip. Uncle Wiggily knew nothing of this.