Little Jack Rabbit and Chippy Chipmunk, page 5
"Who could have taken the sign?" Chippy Chipmunk repeated mechanically. Then he looked up again as if expecting the sign to shine forth in the old familiar way:
CHIPPY CHIPMUNK
ALL KINDS OF NUTS
WHOLESALE & RETAIL
They hadn't heard Featherhead, the naughty son of Squirrel Nutcracker, take down the sign. Very softly, one at a time, he had loosened the screws and then carried it off and thrown it in a deep hole.
It was certainly a very mean thing to do, but then, you must remember, Featherhead was not a nice sort of a squirrel.
Just then, who should come by but Featherhead himself.
"What's the matter?" he asked, just as though he didn't know. Wasn't that deceitful of him?
Little Jack Rabbit didn't answer. Somehow he didn't quite like the little squirrel's tone of voice—it didn't ring true. And when Featherhead turned his back, showing a long streak of white paint across his shoulder, the little rabbit didn't wait a minute, but, quicker than a wink, caught the frightened squirrel and shook him till his teeth rattled.
"What did you do with Chippy Chipmunk's sign?"
"I—I threw it in a deep hole near the Tall Pine Tree," mumbled Featherhead, now thoroughly frightened.
"You come with us and get it," screamed Chippy Chipmunk, mad as a dozen hornets; and they marched the naughty squirrel over to the Tall Pine Tree.
When the sign was once more over the door Chippy Chipmunk said to his little rabbit friend:
"You got my sign back for me. To-morrow I'll help you build your store."
* * *
LITTLE JACK RABBIT'S STORE
In a few days Little Jack Rabbit's store was finished, and all the Little People of the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow were coming to the grand opening. It stood just at the edge of the Old Bramble Patch, on the corner of the Shady Forest Trail and the Old Cow Path.
A nicely painted post had been set in the ground, on which was fastened a sign printed in large letters:
"JACK RABBIT
CABBAGES & TURNIPS"
In the doorway, between barrels of cabbages and turnips, stood Little Jack Rabbit, a smile on his face and a clean white apron over his little khaki trousers. His kind mother had made two of these nice aprons so that he would always have one to wear while the other was in the wash.
You may be sure he felt very proud as he stood, bowing and smiling to his friends who had come to wish him success in his new business.
"Too young to run a store," snapped Grandmother Magpie.
"If he's as honest with his scales as he is truthful with his words," answered Granddaddy Bullfrog, looking at her through his yellow-rimmed spectacles, "all his friends will buy here."
Mrs. Rabbit was tickled to death to think that her son at such an early age had started in business all by himself. It meant to her that he would become a multi-millionaire in a few years!
Chippy Chipmunk had left his store in charge of his brother so as to be on hand, and Featherhead stood at a little distance, enviously watching the friendly greetings.
Everybody was there, even Old Parson Owl, winking and blinking, from a shady spot in the forest, nodded pleasantly and wished the little rabbit good luck.
Suddenly a sharp bark came down the Shady Forest Trail, and the next instant Old Sic'em and the Farmer's Boy jumped over the Old Rail Fence.
Into the Old Bramble Patch went Little Jack Rabbit and his mother, while the Forest Folk either ran off or flew away.
"What's this?" cried the Farmer's Boy, kicking over the cabbages and turnips that the poor little rabbit had so carefully placed in front of the store.
Down fell the sign from the nicely painted post. Crack! it went under the heel of the Farmer Boy's shoe.
"Why didn't you catch 'em, Sic'em?" he asked crossly. Then he turned away and went whistling down the path.
"I don't feel much like whistling," said Little Jack Rabbit, "my store has all gone to smithereens!"
But Mrs. Rabbit didn't say anything. I think she was even more disappointed than her little bunny boy.
* * *
BILLY BREEZE
"Billy Breeze, Billy Breeze!
Come and help me, if you please.
If you'll only shake the tree,
There'll be lots of nuts for me."
This is what Chippy Chipmunk sang one morning when he found there were no more nuts on the ground.
Of course, he had a lot already stored away, but he didn't want to use them now. No, indeed; not until the cold weather came. Pretty soon he commenced to sing again:
"Billy Breeze, Billy Breeze!
Come and help me, if you please.
Shake the nuts from off the tree;
Do this favor, please, for me."
Now everybody in the Shady Forest liked Chippy Chipmunk. In the first place, he was such a good little worker. Then, too, he minded his own business and was never cross. So as soon as Billy Breeze heard him call, he blew in from the Sunny Meadow and shook the tree. Down came the nuts, pitter, patter, all over the ground, and one hit the little chipmunk right on the head.
"Ouch!" he cried.
"Whew! Did it hurt?" whistled Billy Breeze.
"Well, I should say so," answered Chippy Chipmunk. "Wait till I hide before you shake again."
Then Billy Breeze gave the big tree another shake. Pitter, patter, pitter, patter! went the nuts on the dry leaves.
"I guess that's enough," said Billy Breeze. "I must go now!"
"What for?" asked the little chipmunk.
"To turn the Weathercock."
And off went Billy Breeze across the Sunny Meadow, to the Old Farm Yard. The Weathercock on the Big Red Barn saw him coming and whirled around on his gilded toe. And Henny Penny at once set to work to prune and oil her feathers. She rubbed her bill over the little oil sack hidden among the feathers on her back and said to Cocky Doodle:
"It's going to rain, for Mr. Weathercock is pointing to the East."
* * *
PITTER, PATTER
As soon as Billy Breeze had turned the Weathercock on the Big Red Barn, he hurried away to get the rain-clouds. He didn't even wait to say howdy to Ducky Waddles, although he knew the little duck would be glad to know where he was going. But Billy Breeze didn't have time. No, sir. He had to get those rain-clouds in a hurry. It hadn't rained for so long that the roads were inches deep with dust, the Bubbling Brook was almost dry, and the Old Duck Pond was so low that the Mill Wheel couldn't turn. The Miller couldn't grind his corn, and the Miller's Boy had so much spare time to tease Granddaddy Bullfrog that the poor old gentleman frog was nearly worried to death.
"Hurry up and get those rain-clouds," shouted Granddaddy Bullfrog as Billy Breeze hurried across the Old Duck Pond.
"I wish we'd have some rain," said the "rusty, dusty" Miller, coming to the door of the Old Mill. It almost seemed as if he were speaking to Billy Breeze.
"You'll get rain pretty soon," he answered, but I guess the Miller didn't hear him, for he turned around and went inside.
By and by the rain-clouds came tumbling across the sky, as Billy Breeze pushed them headlong over one another. Mr. Merry Sun saw them coming, and hurried over to the west. But it wasn't any use. Billy Breeze drove them on so fast that in a little while Mr. Merry Sun was shut in altogether. The bright blue sky grew gray and the leaves began to whisper:
"It's going to rain! It's going to rain!"
And the grass rippled in the Sunny Meadow and murmured:
"It's going to rain! It's going to rain!"
Everybody seemed glad except, perhaps, Mr. Merry Sun. But I don't believe he minded it. He must have known that rain is just as needful as sunshine.
Pitter, patter, pitter, patter! Yes, the raindrops were falling. Chippy Chipmunk scurried into his little house and Granddaddy Bullfrog chuckled as he crawled under a sheltering leaf.
Little Jack Rabbit hopped swiftly over to the Old Bramble Patch and the Farmer's Boy turned up his collar and ran out of the Shady Forest where he had been gathering nuts.
"You're a good little boy to get home in time," said Mrs. Rabbit as her little bunny popped into the kitchen door, and the little canary bird began to sing:
"Pitter, patter, goes the rain,
Making music on the pane.
Draw the shades and light the lamp—
Never mind the evening damp.
Wind the clock, make fast the latch
Of the dear Old Bramble Patch."
THE END
* * *
LITTLE JACK RABBIT BOOKS
(Trademark Registered)
By DAVID CORY
Author of LITTLE JOURNEYS TO HAPPYLAND
A new and unique series about the furred and feathered little people of the wood and meadow.
Children will eagerly follow the doings of little Jack Rabbit, who, every morning as soon as he has polished the front door knob and fed the canary, sets out from his little house in the bramble patch to meet his friends in the Shady Forest and Sunny Meadow. And the clever way he escapes from his three enemies, Danny Fox, Mr. Wicked Weasel and Hungry Hawk will delight the youngsters.
LITTLE JACK RABBIT'S ADVENTURES
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND DANNY FOX
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND THE SQUIRREL BROTHERS
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND CHIPPY CHIPMUNK
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND THE BIG BROWN BEAR
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND UNCLE JOHN HARE
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND PROFESSOR CROW
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND OLD MAN WEASEL
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND MR. WICKED WOLF
LITTLE JACK RABBIT AND HUNGRY HAWK
* * *
LITTLE JOURNEYS TO HAPPYLAND
(Trademark Registered)
By DAVID CORY
Printed In large type—easy to read. For children from 4 to 8 years.
A new series of exciting adventures by the author of LITTLE JACK RABBIT books.
The Happyland is reached by various routes: If you should happen to miss the Iceberg Express maybe you can take the Magic Soap Bubble, or in case that has already left, the Noah's Ark may be waiting for you.
This series is unique in that it deals with unusual and exciting adventures on land and sea and in the air.
The Cruise of the Noah's Ark
This is a good rainy day story. On just such a day Mr. Noah invites Marjorie to go for a trip in the Noah's Ark. She gets aboard just in time and away it floats out into the big wide world.
The Magic Soap Bubble
The king of the gnomes has a magic pipe with which he blows a wonderful bubble and taking Ed with him they both have a delightful time in Gnomeland.
The Iceberg Express
The Mermaid's magic comb changes little Mary Louise into a mermaid. The Polar Bear Porter on the Iceberg Express invites her to take a trip with him and away they go on a little journey to Happyland.
* * *
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