"Say! Who's doing that?" cried the unkind chap, trying to hold his arm in front of his face to keep the sand out of his eyes. "If you fellows don't stop that——"
But he couldn't say any more, for a lot of sand went flying into his mouth. He dropped the poor, thin dog, who ran away and hid himself in a hollow tree, and then the bad boy had to use both hands to wipe out the gravel that rattled down inside his shirt, and so he couldn't hit the kind boy.
"Who's scattering that gravel?" cried the bad boy, scowling.
"I don't see anyone," said the other, smiling.
But there was Uncle Wiggily, behind the bush, scattering the gravel with his paws in a regular shower.
"I wish Nurse Jane could see me now," chuckled the bunny gentleman. "She surely would laugh."
At last so much gravel, sand and little stones showered into the face of the bad boy that he ran away, crying:
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Something terrible must have happened! I guess I'd better not tie any tin cans on dogs' tails any more."
"I guess you'd better not," said the other boy.