"And I don't pick him, or scratch gravel at him or anything like that," cackled the little hen girl. "I wish he'd let us alone, Uncle Wiggily."
"We came over to see if you could think up a way to make him stop," crowed Charlie. "Can you?"
"Hum! I'll try," promised the bunny gentleman, twinkling his pink nose like the frosting on top of an orange shortcake. "Suppose we go look for this boy," went on Uncle Wiggily. "So I'll know him when I see him."
"I can show you his house," offered Charlie. "But we'll have to be careful. For if he sees us he'll peg things at us."
"Let us hope not," murmured Uncle Wiggily.
But it was a vain hope, as they say in fairy books. For after Uncle Wiggily, Charlie and Arabella had gone to the other side of a forest, there, all of a sudden, they saw the boy.
"Hi! There are those funny dressed-up chickens!" shouted the boy, who had red hair, and a face full of freckles. "And there's a rabbit with them, all dressed up in a tall silk hat! Oh, my! What style! I'm going to see if I can knock his hat off with a stone! I'm going to peg rocks at 'em!"
"See! What did I tell you?" cackled Arabella, who could understand boy-talk, as could also Charlie and Uncle Wiggily.
"Bang!" bounced a stone on Uncle Wiggily's tall silk hat, sending it spinning through the air.
"Ha! Ha!" laughed the boy, as he picked up another stone. "I'm a good shot, I am!"