"Oh, what a lovely Fourth of July!" sighed the boy, when evening came to put the sun to bed, and the nurse wheeled the boy into the house.
And then, when it grew dark, Uncle Wiggily called together ten thousand firefly-lightning bugs, and they flittered and fluttered about the porch, on which the boy had been taken after supper. The fireflies made pinwheels of themselves, they went up like skyrockets, they leaped about in bunches like the balls from Roman candles and finally, when it was time to go to bed, they took hold of each others' legs and, clinging together, spelled out:
"Oh, it's just like real fireworks!" cried the happy boy.
"I'm glad he liked it!" said Uncle Wiggily, as he hopped home to his hollow stump bungalow.
So if the pussy cat doesn't claw the tail off the letter Q and make it look like a big, round O, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the little boy's skates.
[STORY XIII]
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SKATES
There was once a little boy to whom Santa Claus brought a pair of skates at Christmas. And, of course, that boy, as soon as he saw the shiny, steel runners, wished that the pond would freeze over so that he might try his new playthings.