"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"
Near the hearth in the homes of some boys and girls who had not gone to bed with happy thoughts of the morrow, were some delightful presents. How they opened their eyes and stared—these boys and girls who had expected no Christmas.
"Why! Why!" exclaimed one of the two lads whom Uncle Wiggily had heard talking near the snowbank. "How in the world did Santa Claus get down our black chimney?"
But, of course, they knew nothing of Uncle Wiggily and the crows. And please don't you tell them.
So all over, in the Land of Boys and Girls, as well as in the Snow Forest of the Animal Folk, there echoed the happy calls of:
"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" Once again there was joy in the land.
And if the sunflower doesn't shine in the face of the clock, and make its hands go whizzing around backward, I shall take pleasure, next, in telling you about Uncle Wiggily's Fourth of July.
[STORY XII]
UNCLE WIGGILY'S FOURTH OF JULY
"You must be extra careful to-morrow, Uncle Wiggily," said Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy to the bunny rabbit gentleman one morning, as he stood on the steps of his hollow stump bungalow.