Well, Uncle Wiggily got across to the other shore, and he looked back and there that bear was raging and tearing around as mad as mad could be, because the rabbit had gotten away from him. But I'm glad of it; aren't you?
Now I have another story for you, and, in case my typewriter doesn't fall in the lake and the fishes don't eat up the hair ribbon on it, I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily in the bear's den.
STORY XXII
UNCLE WIGGILY IN THE BEAR'S DEN
Well, here we are again, all ready for a story, I suppose, and I hope you had a nice time at the surprise party. Let me see now, what shall I tell you about? How would you like to hear about the old gentleman rabbit and the toadstool?
Oh, my! I just happened to remember that I promised to write about Uncle Wiggily getting into the bear's den, so of course I'll have to tell about that first, and afterward I'll write the story about the toadstool. I'll tell you this much, however, the toadstool story is very curious, if I do say so myself.
Anyhow, Uncle Wiggily was hopping along one fine morning, following a stormy night, and he was thinking about the swimming lesson he had had a few days before.
"I wonder if I have forgotten how to move my legs, and go skimming through the water?" he said to himself as he set down his valise, and leaned his crutch against a prickly briar bush. "I must practice a little."
And the old gentleman rabbit did practice then and there, going through all the motions of swimming, only he was on dry land, of course. Next he twinkled his nose, like a star on a very hot night, when you drink iced lemonade to keep cool, and then Uncle Wiggily hopped forward once more.