"Well, he looked like a fairy!" laughed Tommie, who had washed his hands in the bath room at Alice's house, so they were clean for eating cake and ice cream. "And I'm not afraid of mud puddles any more. I know what to do if I fall in one," said Tommie.
And if the onion doesn't make tears come into the eyes of the potato when they're playing tag around the spoon in the soup dish, the next story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the bad boy.
[STORY IV]
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE BAD BOY
Once upon a time there was a bad boy. He lived on the edge of the wood in which Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, had built his hollow stump bungalow. The bad boy did not know Uncle Wiggily, but Mr. Longears knew about the bad boy, and so did Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the bunny's muskrat lady housekeeper.
"Don't ever go near that bad boy's house," said Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy one morning, as the rabbit gentleman started out with his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch.
"Why not?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"Because," answered Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, "that boy will throw stones at you, and maybe hit you on your pink, twinkling nose."
"He can't throw stones now," said Uncle Wiggily. "He can't find any. The ground is covered with snow."
"Then he'll throw snowballs at you," said the muskrat lady housekeeper. "Please keep away from him."