"Then have you seen any diamonds?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"No, but I saw a dewdrop inside a flower sparkling in the sunshine," said the snail, "and it was brighter than a diamond."
"That is very pretty, but it is not my fortune," said the rabbit. "I must keep on." So on he went, singing his jolly song, and he kept humming it, even when the sun went behind a cloud, and it looked as if it were going to storm. The waves of the ocean grew into big billows, and they dashed up on the beach with a booming, thundering sound.
"I think we are going to have a shower," said the old gentleman rabbit. "I must look about for another toadstool umbrella." So he found one growing in the grass a little distance from the water, and he picked it. Then, strapping his valise over his shoulder, he hopped ahead, leaning on his crutch.
Pretty soon, not so very long, it began to rain. My! how the drops did come pelting down, harder and harder, but Uncle Wiggily didn't get wet because of his toadstool umbrella. And then, before you could eat a stick of peppermint candy, something hard hit the old gentleman rabbit on the nose.
"Ha! My umbrella must be leaking!" he cried. Then there came a flash of lightning, and a loud clap of thunder, and something else hit Uncle Wiggily on the end of his nose.
"Oh, I hope I'm not struck by lightning!" he cried. So he looked up, and he saw that his toadstool umbrella was full of holes, and the reason of this was that it was hailing instead of raining. The rain drops had turned into little round chunks of ice, just like white pebbles, and they were pelting down, and had torn the rabbit's umbrella all to pieces.
"Whatever shall I do?" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he tossed aside the toadstool. "That is of no use to me now, and there is no place where I can go to get in out of the rain. Oh, my! How those hailstones hurt!" And indeed they did, for they were as large as bird's eggs now, and they were bouncing down all over, and hitting Uncle Wiggily on his ears and nose and all over.
He tried to hold his crutch over his head, but that did no good, and then he tried to hold up his valise with the cherry pie in it to shelter himself, but that did no good, either.
"Oh, I'll be knocked to pieces by the hailstones!" the rabbit cried. "Where can I go? Oh, if I only had a shell house such as the snail carries on her back, I would be all right."