MR. MERRY SUN
Little Timmy Meadowmouse,Has a round ball for a house.It’s made of nicely woven grass,But it hasn’t a window pane of glass.
Little Timmy Meadowmouse,Has a round ball for a house.It’s made of nicely woven grass,But it hasn’t a window pane of glass.
Little Timmy Meadowmouse,Has a round ball for a house.It’s made of nicely woven grass,But it hasn’t a window pane of glass.
Little Timmy Meadowmouse,
Has a round ball for a house.
It’s made of nicely woven grass,
But it hasn’t a window pane of glass.
“Hello,” he said, as Little Jack Rabbit stopped to look at a daisy. “How are you this lovely day?”
“I’m going down to the Old Duck Pond to ask Granddaddy Bullfrog something,” answered the little rabbit.
“What are you going to ask him?” inquired Timmy Meadowmouse.
“Never mind,” replied Little Jack Rabbit, “maybe I’ll tell you some day,” and away he hopped, and by and by, pretty soon, not so very long, he came to the OldDuck Pond. And there, sure enough, was Granddaddy Bullfrog sitting on his log, winking and blinking in the sun.
“Good-morning, Granddaddy Bullfrog,” said Little Jack Rabbit, “have you had your breakfast?”
“Had my breakfast?” almost shouted the old gentleman frog. “Why, it’s almost time for lunch. I guess you’ve forgotten to set your watch ahead.”
“Oh, dear me,” said the little rabbit, “I have.” So he pulled out his gold watch and chain, the one that dear Uncle John Hare had given him, oh, ’umpty ’leven stories ago, you remember, and then he set it on an hour fast, and after that he looked up at the sky and laughed.
“Now don’t get mad, Mr. Merry Sun!”
“Well, I won’t get mad,” said the jollyold fellow, “but I’ll tell you one thing, I shan’t get up any earlier myself. You people can do what you wish, but I’ve been on time since the world began and I don’t propose to be hurried at my age.” And then he rolled behind a cloud just to show that he meant what he said.
“Do you think he’s angry?” asked the little rabbit.
“Not a bit,” answered Granddaddy Bullfrog. “What does he care if the factory whistle blows an hour earlier. He doesn’t have to hurry. He gets up in the purple east every day at the same time.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said a voice, and there stood Professor Jim Crow with his little Wisdom Book.
“Let me read you something,” and thenthe wise old bird turned to page 23 and began:
“The sun in the winter time rises late,Sometimes it’s sixty minutes to eight;But when the summer time comes once more,He often gets up at half-past four.”
“The sun in the winter time rises late,Sometimes it’s sixty minutes to eight;But when the summer time comes once more,He often gets up at half-past four.”
“The sun in the winter time rises late,Sometimes it’s sixty minutes to eight;But when the summer time comes once more,He often gets up at half-past four.”
“The sun in the winter time rises late,
Sometimes it’s sixty minutes to eight;
But when the summer time comes once more,
He often gets up at half-past four.”
And, oh, dear me! This made Granddaddy dreadfully angry.
“You don’t understand what I mean,” he said, and in the next story you shall hear what the old gentleman frog really meant to say.