They were talking about Uncle Wiggily's visit to the red fairy, in the rabbits' burrow the next day, when Susie remarked:
"Well, if I saw a fairy, I think I'd ask for something more magical than having my rheumatism cured."
"No you wouldn't," said her uncle, as he nibbled a bit of chocolate-covered carrot that Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy had made. "You think you would, but you wouldn't. In the first place, you never had rheumatism, or you'd be glad to get the first fairy you saw to cure it. And in the second place, when you see a fairy it makes you feel so funny you don't know what you are saying. But I am certainly glad I met that one. I never felt better in all my life than I do since my rheumatism is cured. I believe I'll dance a jig."
"Oh, no, don't," begged Mamma Littletail.
"Yes, I shall to," spoke Uncle Wiggily. "Begging your pardon, of course, Alvinah." You see, Mamma Littletail's first name was Alvinah. So Uncle Wiggily danced a jig, and did it fairly well, considering everything.
That afternoon Susie Littletail went for a walk in the woods. She was all alone, for Sammie had gone over to play with Bully, the frog, and Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, his squirrel chums. Susie walked along, and she was rather hoping she might meet the fairy prince, who was changed from a mud turtle into a nice boy, and came to Lulu and Alice Wibblewobble's party. But Susie didn't meet him, and, when it began to get dark, she started for home.
"Oh!" she exclaimed aloud, as she came to a little spot where the grass grew nice and green, and where the trees were all set in a circle, just as if they were playing, Ring Around the Rosy, Sweet Tobacco Posey. "Oh, dear, I wish I would meet with a fairy, as Uncle Wiggily did! But I don't s'pose I ever will. I never have any good luck! Only last week I lost my ring with the blue stone in it."
And just then—oh, in fact, right after Susie finished speaking, what should she hear but a voice singing. Yes, a voice singing; a sweet, silvery voice, and this is what it sang. Of course, I can't sing this in a sweet, silvery voice, but I'll do the best I can. Now this is the song:
"If any one is seekingA fairy for to see,If they will kindly glance upInto this chestnut treeThey'll see what they are seeking,I'm truly telling you,For I'm a little fairyAll dressed in baby-blue."
Then, you may believe me or not, if Susie didn't look up into the tree, and there, in a hole where the Owl school teacher once lived, was a really and truly-ruly fairy. Honest. Susie knew at once it was a fairy that she saw because the little creature was colored baby blue, you know, the shade they put on babies, and she had gauzy wings, with stars on them, and carried a magic wand which also had a star on it, did the little blue creature. Still, the little rabbit girl wanted to make sure, so she asked: "Are you a fairy?"
"I am," replied the little creature in blue. "Can you kindly tell me how much two and two are?"
"Four," answered Susie.
"Is it really?"
"Of course. You ought to know that," spoke Susie proudly, for she was at the head of her arithmetic class.
"Ought I?" asked the fairy with a sigh. "Well, I suppose I had, but I haven't been to school in ever so long—not since I was a wee bit of a child, and that's ever and ever so many years ago, when I was no bigger than that," and she pointed to something in the air.
"Bigger than what?" asked Susie, who didn't see anything.
"Than that speck of star dust," went on the blue fairy. "It's so small you can't see it. But no matter. Because you were so kind as to tell me how much two and two are, I will give you three wishes."
"Will you, really?" cried Susie in delight.
"Yes, three wishes, for I am a regular fairy, and that is the regular number of wishes you may have. Some fairies only give two wishes, and some only one. But I always give three. Go ahead now, and wish."
"Let me see," thought Susie, and her nose twinkled like three stars, she was so excited. "First I wish for a golden coach drawn by four horses."
"Oh!" cried the fairy, "I'm so sorry, for wishes like that, though they come true, never last. Still, you may have it," and she waved her magic wand, and if the golden coach and four horses didn't appear right there in the woods—honest! "Wish again, my dear," went on the fairy, and this time Susie was more careful.
"I wish for ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots," she said, and once more the fairy said she was sorry, for that wish wouldn't last. Still, it came true, and down from the tree where the blue fairy sat, came tumbling the ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots, each one wrapped up in lace paper. Susie put them in the golden coach, and was ready for her next wish. She thought a good long while over this one. Then she said:
"I wish I could find my ring with the blue stone!"
At that the fairy clapped her tiny hands. "That is a fine wish!" she cried. "It will come true, and stay so. But the others——" and she shook her head sorrowfully. Then she waved her magic wand three times in the air, and suddenly, in less than two jumps, if the ring with the blue stone, that Susie had lost, didn't appear right on the end of the wand. And it flew off and landed right on Susie's paw. Oh, wasn't she glad! And the fairy said: "The ring will last, because that is blue, and I am blue, too. Now, good bye, Susie." And with that she disappeared, changing into a butterfly with golden wings. Then Susie started to get in the golden coach and ride home, but, would you believe me, if those horses didn't run away, upsetting the coach and breaking it, and scattering all the ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots all over. Oh, how badly Susie felt, but it was just what the fairy said would happen. The first two wishes didn't last. Anyhow, Susie had the ring, and she hurried home to tell her story. Now, if it doesn't rain to-morrow, the story to-morrow night will be about Sammie and the green fairy.
When Susie told her brother Sammie about what happened to her in the woods, when she saw the blue fairy, the little rabbit boy remarked:
"Aw, I guess you fell asleep and dreamed that, Susie." for that's the way with brothers sometimes. I once had a brother, and he—but there, I'll tell you about him some other time.
"No," answered Susie, "I didn't dream it. Why, here's my ring to prove it," and she held out the one with the blue stone in it.
"I guess you found that in the woods, where you lost it," went on Sammie. "I don't believe in fairies at all."
"But didn't one cure Uncle Wiggily's rheumatism?"
"Aw, well, I guess that would have gotten better anyhow."
"It wouldn't, so there!" exclaimed Susie. "I just hope you see a fairy some day, and I hope they don't treat you as kind as the one treated me, even if the horses did run away and disappear." But of course Susie didn't really want anything bad to happen to her brother. But you just wait and see what did happen. Oh, it was something very, very strange, yes, indeed, and I'm not fooling a bit; no, indeed. I wouldn't make it out anything different than what it really was, not for a penny and a half.
Well, it happened about a week later. Sammie was coming home from a ball game, which he had played with Johnnie and Billie Bushytail (of whom I will tell you later), and some others of his chums, and he was in a deep, dark part of the wood, when suddenly he heard a crashing in the bushes.
"Pooh!" exclaimed Sammie. "I s'pose that's one of them fairies. I'm not going to notice her," and with that he tossed his baseball up in the air, careless like, to show that he didn't mind. But he was a bit nervous, all the same, and his hand slipped and his best ball went right down in a deep, dark, muddy puddle of water. Then Sammie felt pretty bad, I tell you, and he was going to get a stick to fish the ball out, when he heard the crashing in the bushes again, and what should appear but—no, not a fairy, but bad, ugly fox.
"Ah!" exclaimed the fox, looking at Sammie, and smacking his lips, "I've been waiting for you for some time."
"Yes?" asked the little boy rabbit, and he tried to see a way to run past that fox, only there wasn't any.
"Yes, really," went on the fox. "Have you had your supper?"
"No," replied Sammie, "I haven't."
"Neither have I," continued the fox, "but I'm going to have it pretty soon, in fact, almost immediately," which you children know means right away. "I'm going to eat directly," went on that bad fox, and he smacked his lips again and looked at Sammie, as if he was going to eat him up, for that's really what he meant when he said he was going to have supper. Oh, how frightened Sammie was. He began to tremble, and he wished he'd started for home earlier. Then the fox crouched down and was just going to jump on that little boy rabbit, when something happened.
Right up from that puddle of water, where Sammie had lost his ball, sprang a little man in green. He was green all over, like Bully, the frog, but the funny part of it was that he wasn't wet a bit, even though he came up out of the water.
"Ha! What have we here?" he cried out, just like that.
"If—if you please, sir," began Sammie.
"It's my supper time!" cried the fox, interrupting, which was not very polite on his part. "It's my supper time, and I'm hungry."
"I don't see anything to eat," spoke the little green man. "Nothing at all," and he looked all around.
"If—if you please, kind sir," went on Sammie, "I think he intends to eat me."
"What! What!" cried the little green man. "The very idea! The very idonical idea! We'll see about that! Oh, my, yes, and a bushel of apple turnovers besides! Aha! Ahem!"
Then he looked most severely at that fox, most severely, I do assure you, and he asked: "Were you going to eat up my friend Sammie Littletail?"
"I was, but I didn't know he was a friend of yours," replied the fox, beginning to tremble. Oh, you could see right away that he was afraid of that little green man.
"Oh, you bad fox, you!" cried the little green man. "Oh, you bad fox! Just for that I'm going to turn you into a little country village! Presto, chango! Smacko, Mackeo! Bur-r-r-r!" and he waved his hands at the fox, who immediately disappeared. And he was changed into a little country village, with a church, a school and thirty-one houses, and it's called Foxtown to this very day. I ought to know, for I used to live there.
"Well, Sammie?" asked the little green man, when the fox had vanished, "How do you feel now?"
"Much better, kind sir. Thank you. But who are you?"
"Me? Who am I? Why, don't you know?"
"No, indeed, unless you're some relation to Bully, the frog."
"Well, I am a sort of distant thirty-second cousin to him. I am the green fairy. And to prove it, look here, I will get your ball back for you."
Then while Sammie looked on, his eyes getting bigger and bigger and his breath coming faster and faster, until it was like a locomotive or a choo-choo, whatever you call them, going up hill, if that little green man didn't wave his hands over that puddle of water, where Sammie's ball had fallen. And he spoke the magic word, which must never be spoken except on Friday nights, so if you read this on any night but Friday you must skip it, and wait. The word is (Tirratarratorratarratirratarratum), and I put it in brackets, so there would be no mistake. Well, all of a sudden, after the magic word was spoken, if Sammie's ball didn't come bounding up out of that water, and it was as dry as a bone, and it had a nice, new, clean, white cover on.
"There," said the little green man proudly, "I guess that's doing some tricks in the fairy line, isn't it?"
"It certainly is," agreed Sammie, "I can't thank you enough."
"Just believe in fairies after this," said the little green man, as he changed into a bumble bee and flew off. Now, how would you like to hear about Susie and the fairy godmother to-morrow night, eh?
You can just imagine how excited Susie and her mamma and papa and Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, the muskrat, were when Sammie got home and told about the bad fox who had been changed into a country village. Uncle Wiggily Longears was surprised, too. He said:
"My, it does seem to me that there are strange goings on in these woods. There never used to be any fairies here. I wonder where they come from?"
"Well, it's a good thing that fox has been changed into a town," spoke Papa Littletail. "If he hadn't been, I would have had him arrested for frightening you, Sammie. I know the policeman down at our corner, and I'm sure he would have arrested him for me. But it's all right now," and Sammie's papa sat back in his chair and read the paper, for he was tired that night from working in the turnip factory. You see, he changed from the carrot factory, and got a place sorting turnips. And sometimes he would bring little sweet ones home to the children.
One day Susie was hurrying back from the store with a loaf of bread, a yeast cake and three-and-a-half of granulated sugar, and she was sort of wondering if she would meet the blue fairy again when, just as she got opposite a place where some goldenrod grew, she heard a voice saying:
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear me! I shall never be able to reach it! Never, never, never!" Susie looked around, and what should she see but a nice, little old lady, trying to break off a stem of goldenrod.
"Oh, dear me suz-dud!" cried the old lady again, and then Susie saw that she was very little indeed, hardly larger than a ten-cent plate of ice cream after it's all melted. So she couldn't reach the goldenrod, she was so little.
"What is the matter?" asked Susie very politely. "Can I help you?"
"Thank you, my dear child," went on the little old lady. "If you would be so kind as to reach me down a stem of goldenrod, I would be very much obliged to you."
"What do you want with it?" asked Susie, wondering who the little old lady could possibly be.
"Why, I want it for a fairy wand," she answered. "I have lost mine."
"Are you a fairy, too?" asked the little rabbit girl, and she began to wonder what would happen next as she broke off a stem for the old lady.
"Indeed I am," replied the little old lady. "I am a fairy godmother. I have charge of all the other fairies, the blue fairy and the red fairy and the green fairy, and all the other colors, including the fairy prince, who used to be a mud turtle."
"But, if you are a fairy," asked Susie, "why couldn't you make that goldenrod come down to you, when you weren't tall enough to reach up to it?"
"Hush!" exclaimed the fairy godmother, for she really was one, as you shall see. "Hush, my dear child! It's a great secret. Don't tell any one," and she put her right hand over her mouth and her left hand over her ear, and held the goldenrod under her arm. "You see, I lost my magic wand," she went on, "and I couldn't do any more magic until I got a new one. Now I am all right, and to reward you you may come with me."
"But I have to get home with the bread and sugar and yeast cake," said Susie.
"No," spoke the fairy godmother, "you will not need to be in a hurry. Besides, what I will show you will happen in an instant, and you will get home in time after all."
So she waved the goldenrod in the air, and once more the silver trumpet sounded: "Ta-ra-ta-ra-ta-ra!" and, all of a sudden, Susie found herself lifted up, and there she and the fairy godmother were sailing right through the air on a big burdock leaf. At first Susie was afraid, but she soon got over her fright and enjoyed the ride.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"We are going to where the fairies live," answered the little old woman, but she seemed larger now, and the old dress she had worn had changed into a cloak of gold and silver with diamonds and rubies on it all over, like frost on a cold morning.
So pretty soon—oh, I guess in about as long as it would take to eat a peanut, or, maybe, two, if they didn't come to fairyland. At least that's what Susie thought it was, for there were fairies all about. The red fairy was there, and the green, and the blue one. And the blue fairy asked: "Have you your ring yet, Susie?" Then Susie said she had, but she didn't want to talk any more, for so many wonderful things were going on.
The fairies were skipping about, leaping here and there, some riding on the backs of birds and butterflies and bumblebees, and some running in and out of holes in the ground.
"What are they doing?" asked Susie, moving her long ears back and forth.
"They are doing kind things to the people of the earth," replied the fairy godmother, "and it keeps them busy, let me tell you." Then Susie saw fairies doing all sorts of magical tricks, such as making lemonade out of lemons, and things like that.
Then, all at once, just when one little fairy was making a hat out of some straw, the godmother said: "It is time for us to go now," so the burdock leaf came sailing through the air, and Susie got on. As they came near the woods where the goldenrod grew they saw a boy throwing a stone at a robin.
Illustration by Louis Wisa
Illustration by Louis Wisa
"Ah, I must stop that!" cried the fairy godmother, so she waved her new magic wand that Susie had helped her get, and, honestly, if that stone didn't turn right around in the air, and instead of hitting the bird, it flew back and hit that boy right on the end of his nose! Oh, how he cried, and, what is better, he never threw stones at birds again. I call that a pretty good trick, don't you? Well, the burdock leaf came to the ground, and Susie ran home, and she was just in time to help her mother set bread. To-morrow night's story is going to be about Uncle Wiggily and the fairy spectacles. That is, I think it is, but, if you like, you may turn over the page to make sure. But you are only allowed just one peep, only one, mind you.
Sammie and Susie Littletail were playing out in front of their burrow. Their mamma had a headache, and had gone to lie down in a dark room, and Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy had put a mustard leaf on the back of Mamma Littletail's neck, for that is sometimes good for a headache.
"What shall we do?" asked Susie.
"Oh, I don't know," replied her brother. "S'pose we play stump tag?"
"All right; you're 'it,' Sammie," called Susie.
So Sammie began to hop after Susie. You see, when you play stump tag you have to keep on a stump if you don't want to be tagged. It's lots of fun. Try it some day, if you can find a place where there are plenty of stumps. Well, after playing this for some time, the rabbit children got tired. Then they played other games, and they were making quite a noise, when Uncle Wiggily Longears came out.
"You children will have to make less racket," he said, real cross like. "Your mamma has a headache."
Then Sammie and Susie were quieter for a time, but soon they were almost as noisy as ever.
"Now you must run right away from here!" cried Uncle Wiggily, coming to the door of the underground house again, and he spoke still more crossly.
"What do you s'pose ails Uncle Wiggily?" asked Susie, as she and Sammie hopped away.
"I don't know," replied Sammie, "unless it's his rheumatism again."
"No, it can't be that. Don't you remember, the red fairy cured him?"
"Maybe it came back."
"Oh, no, fairies don't do things that way. I guess he must have indigestion. But I wish he wouldn't be so cross, especially when mamma has a headache and Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy can't come out to play with us. Oh, dear! Isn't it too bad?"
"What's too bad?" asked a little voice, under a big clump of grass, and at that moment what should come walking out but a little pink fairy. Oh, she was the dearest little thing you ever saw! I just wish I could take you to see her, but it's not allowed. Some day, perhaps—but there, I must get on with the story. Well, the little pink fairy stood out in the sunlight, and she asked again: "What is the matter?"
"Oh," explained Susie, who, by this time, had gotten used to fairies of all kinds, "Mamma has a headache, and Uncle Wiggily is cross."
"Headache, eh? Uncle Wiggily cross. Perhaps his glasses do not fit him," suggested the fairy.
"Oh, I guess there's nothing the matter with his spectacles," answered Sammie. "I saw him reading a book with them."
"You never can tell," declared the pink fairy. "Suppose you call him out here, and we'll take a look at his glasses. Maybe he has the wrong kind."
"What about mamma's headache?" asked Susie.
"Oh! I'll stop that in a minute," replied the fairy kindly, so she waved her magic wand in the air three times. "Now your mamma's head is all better," she added.
And, sure enough, when Susie ran in the burrow to ask Uncle Wiggily to come out, if Mamma Littletail's head wasn't all well. Wasn't that just fine? Well, at first Uncle Wiggily didn't want to come out. He was still cross, but finally Susie begged him so hard that he did. He saw the little pink fairy, and he asked, real cross like: "Well, what do you want of me?"
"Aha!" exclaimed the pink fairy. "I see what the trouble is. It's your spectacles."
"They're all right," growled Uncle Wiggily.
"They are not," declared the fairy very decidedly. "Let me look at them," and before you could say "Pussy-cat Mole jumped over a coal," she frisked those glasses off. "Oh!" she cried, "look here, Sammie and Susie! What terribly gloomy spectacles!" Then she held them up, first in front of Sammie, and then in front of Susie. And when they looked through them the little rabbit children saw that everything was dark, and gloomy, and dreary, and even the sun seemed to be behind a cloud. Oh, it was as cold and unpleasant as it is just before a snowstorm. "No wonder you were cross!" cried the fairy. "But I will soon fix matters! Presto-chango! Ring around the rosey, sweet tobacco posey!" she cried, and then she rubbed first one pink finger on one glass, and then another pink finger on the other glass of the spectacles.
And a most wonderful thing happened, she smiled as she held the glasses up in front of Sammie and Susie, and as true as I'm telling you, if everything wasn't as bright and shining as a new tin dishpan. Oh, everything looked lovely! The flowers were gay, and the sun shone, and even the green grass was sort of pink, while the sky was rose-colored.
"There," said the fairy to Uncle Wiggily. "Try those."
So Uncle Wiggily Longears put on his glasses again, and he cried out:
"Why, goodness me! Oh, my suz-dud! Oh, turnips and carrots and a chocolate cake! Oh, my goodness me!"
"What's the matter?" asked Susie.
"Why, everything looks different," answered her uncle. "Oh, how much better I feel! Whoop-de-doodle-do!" and he began to dance a jiggity-jig. "Who would have thought my glasses were so dark and gloomy?" he went on. "I feel ever so much better, now. Come on, Sammie and Susie, and I'll buy you some cabbage ice cream. And you too, little pink fairy." You see, he had been looking through gloomy glasses all that while, and that was what made him cross.
"Oh, thank you, I only eat rose-leaf ice cream," the fairy said. "But I'm not hungry now. Good-luck to all of you, and may you be always happy!" Then she turned into a little bird and flew away singing, while Uncle Wiggily and the rabbit children went to the ice cream store. Now, unless I'm much mistaken, to-morrow night's story will be about Sammie and how he saved Billie Bushytail. But of course you never can tell what will happen.
Sammie Littletail was out in a green field digging a burrow, or underground house. He didn't really need another house, for the one he, and his papa, and mamma, and sister, lived in was very nice, but, as he had nothing else to do, he thought he would dig a big hole, and, maybe, go all the way through to China. Sammie thought he would like to see how China looked, and he thought he might make the acquaintance of some Chinese rabbits.
Well, he hadn't gotten down very far, and he was still a good many miles from China, when he heard some one singing a song in a very loud voice. Now I don't advise you to sing it quite so loudly, for you might awaken the baby, if you have one in your house. Anyway, it does just as well to sing it softly. This is the song Sammie heard:
"I want to be a sailorAnd sail the ocean blue.I'd journey to a distant landAnd then come back to you.I'd bring you lots of happiness,A big trunk filled with joy;A barrel full of hickory nutsFor every girl or boy."
Well, when Sammie heard that he cried out:
"Is that a fairy?"
"No, it's me," was the answer.
"Oh, then you must be Billie or Johnnie Bushytail," went on Sammie, for he remembered that once the little boy squirrels went sailing and were shipwrecked.
"Yes, I'm Billie," said the voice, and then up popped the little squirrel. "But what did you say about a fairy?" he asked.
"I thought at first you were a fairy," continued Sammie, and then he stopped digging the hole in the ground. "There have been such a lot of fairies around here lately," Sammie added. "Red ones, and green ones, and blue ones, and—"
"Are you talking about Easter eggs or something else?" inquired Billie Bushytail.
"Fairies, of course."
"Oh, get out! Oh, ho! Don't tell me that! Why, how superfluous!" cried Billie, for that last was a new word he had just learned. "Don't mention fairies to me!" he continued.
"Why not?" Sammie wanted to know.
"Because I don't believe there are such things!" cried Billie, frisking his big tail until it looked like a dusting brush that they use after sweeping to knock the dust from the furniture onto the floor again. "Don't talk to me like that, Sammie."
"Well," remarked the little boy rabbit, "all I've got to say is that therearefairies! But where's Johnnie? Maybe he believes in 'em."
"No, he doesn't. Besides he's gone out walking with Sister Sallie. Come on, let's have a catch. Where's your ball?"
"I didn't bring it," replied Sammie. "But we can have some fun playing in this hole I've dug." So they played for some time, and pretty soon, oh, in about two and a half frisks of Billie's tail, what should happen, but that, all of a sudden, a great big hawk swooped down from the sky and grabbed that little boy squirrel up in its claws, and flew off with him. Well, you can just imagine how scared Sammie was. His nose wiggled so he sneezed three times. Then he looked up, and there was the hawk, flying away, and away, and away with poor Billie. Oh, wasn't it dreadful!
"Save me! Save me!" Billie cried from up there among the clouds.
"I will! I will!" shouted Sammie, and then he got so excited that he ran around in a circle, and tried to catch his tail, but it was so short that he couldn't even see it, no matter how fast he went around. Then he grabbed up a stone, and he threw it at that hawk, but of course he couldn't hit him, for the big, bad bird was too far away. "Oh, whatever shall I do?" exclaimed Sammie. "If I could only fly now, I'd go up after that hawk. Oh, why didn't Susie wish for wings for me and her instead of for a golden chariot and ten boxes of chocolate-covered carrots the time she saw the blue fairy? Oh, why didn't she? Wings would have been of some use!"
Then he ran around after his tail some more, but he couldn't catch it, and the hawk kept taking Billie farther and farther away, and then Sammie cried out: "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" three times, just like that. Then, all at once, if the little green man didn't suddenly appear. He always appears when any one says "Oh, dear!" three times in exactly the right way, but it's hard to know just what is the right way.
"Well," said the little green man, "you seem to be in trouble."
"I am," cried Sammie. "A hawk has Billie Bushytail, and I want to save him."
"Very well," said the little green man, "since you are so kind, you shall save him. Shut your eyes, cross your front paws, and wrinkle your nose three times and a half." So Sammie did this, and, would you believe me? if, in another instant, the little green man hadn't changed into a big, kind, good-natured eagle. "Get up on my back," the eagle said to Sammie, "and we will save Billie."
So Sammie got on the eagle's back, and the big bird flew after that hawk, and, pretty soon, it caught up to him.
"Here, you let Billie Bushytail go!" cried Sammie, and then he took a long stick he had grabbed up, and he hit that hawk. At first the hawk wasn't going to let go of the little squirrel, but when the eagle bit him three times on each leg, then that bad bird was glad enough to drop Billie and fly off. Oh, my, no, he didn't drop Billie to the ground; that would have been too bad. He only dropped him on the eagle's back, where Sammie was, and pretty soon the two boys were safe on the ground once more, and the eagle had turned into a little green man again.
"I'm ever so much obliged to you for saving me, Sammie," spoke Billie.
"Oh, I couldn't have done it if it hadn't been for the green fairy," replied Sammie, and of course he couldn't. Then Billie thanked the little man very kindly, and he felt sorry for not believing in fairies, and he said he would try to, after that. So the boy squirrel and the boy rabbit played together some more, until it was time to go home. Now, if you don't walk in your sleep to-night, I'll tell you to-morrow about Susie and the fairy carrot.
Susie and Sammie Littletail had been off in the woods for a walk, and to gather some flowers, for they expected company at the underground house, and they wanted it to look nice. Mr. and Mrs. Bushytail and Billie and Johnnie and Sister Sallie were coming, and Susie and her brother hoped to have a very nice time.
Well, they wandered on, and on, and on, and had gathered quite a number of flowers, when Sammie said:
"Come on, we've got enough; let's go home."
"No," answered Susie, "I want to get some sky-blue-pink ones. I think they are so pretty."
"I don't," answered her brother, for that color always reminded him of the time he fell in the dye pot, when they were coloring Easter eggs. "I'm going home. Yellow, and red, and blue, and white flowers are good enough. I don't want any fancy colors."
"Well, you go home and I'll come pretty soon," said his sister, so while Sammie turned back, the little rabbit girl kept on. Oh, I don't know how far she went, but it was a good distance, I'm sure, but still she couldn't seem to find that sky-blue-pink flower. She looked everywhere for it, high and low, and even sideways, which is a very good place; but she couldn't find it. And she kept on going, hoping every minute it would happen to be behind a stump or under a bush. But no, it wasn't.
And then, all of a sudden, about as quick as you can shut your eyes and open them again, if Susie wasn't lost! Yes, sir, lost in those woods all alone. She looked all around, and she didn't know where she was. She'd never been so far away from home before, and, oh, now frightened she was! But she was a brave little rabbit girl, and she didn't cry, that is, at first. No, she started to try to find her way back, but the more she tried the more lost she became, until she was all turned around, you know, like when they blindfold you and turn you around three times before they let you try to pin the tail on the cloth donkey at a party. Yes, that's how it was.
Well, then Susie began to cry, and I don't blame her a bit. I think I would do the same myself. Yes, she sat right down and cried. Then she felt hungry and she looked around for something to eat, and what should she see, right there in the woods, but a carrot.
"Oh!" she cried, "how lucky! Now I shan't be hungry, anyhow." So she picked up the carrot and started to eat it, when all at once that carrot spoke to her. What's that? You don't see how a carrot could speak? Well, it did all the same. But you just listen, please, and maybe you'll see how it happened.
"Please don't eat me," the carrot said, in a squeaky voice.
"Why not?" asked Susie, who was very much surprised.
"Because I am a fairy carrot," it went on. Now do you see how it could speak? Well, I guess! "Yes, I am a fairy carrot, Susie, and I can help you. What do you want most?" it asked.
"I want to find my way home," said the little rabbit girl.
"Very well, my dear," went on the vegetable. "Place me on the ground in front of you, stand on your hind legs, wiggle your left ear, and see what happens."
So Susie did this, and would you believe me, for I'm not exaggerating the least bit, if that fairy carrot didn't roll right along on the ground in front of Susie.
"Follow, follow, follow me,And you soon at home will be,"
the carrot said, in a sing-song voice, and it rolled on, still more, and Susie followed.
First the carrot went through a deep, dark part of the woods, but Susie wasn't at all afraid, for she believed in fairies. Then, pretty soon, the carrot came to a great big hole. It was too big to jump over, and too deep to crawl down into, and too wide to run around.
"Oh, dear!" cried Susie, "I don't see how I'm going to get over this." But do you s'pose that carrot was bothered? No, sir; not the least bit. It stretched out, like a piece of rubber, and stuck itself across that hole until it was a regular little bridge, and Susie could walk safely over. Then it became an ordinary fairy carrot again, and rolled on in front of her, showing her just which way to go.
Illustration by Louis Wisa
Illustration by Louis Wisa
After a while she came to a great big lake, one she had never seen before.
"Oh, how shall we get over this?" cried Susie.
"Don't worry," spoke the carrot. Then what did it do but turn into a little boat, and Susie got into it, and sailed over that lake as nicely as you please. Then it turned into an ordinary, garden, fairy carrot again, and rolled on, Susie following. Pretty soon they came to a place where the woods and brush were all on fire.
"Oh, I know we shall never get over that place!" exclaimed Susie, for she was very much afraid of fire, because she once burned a hole in her apron.
"Oh, we'll get over that," promised the carrot. "Just you watch me!" And really truly, if it didn't turn into a rainstorm, and sprinkle down on the flames, and put that fire out, and then, just so Susie wouldn't get wet it turned into an umbrella; and held itself over her all the rest of the way home. So Susie got safely back to the burrow, with all the flowers but the sky-blue-pink one, and maybe she wasn't glad! And maybe her folks weren't glad too! They had begun to worry about her, and Sammie was just going to start off to look for her. So Susie told how the fairy carrot had brought her home, and Uncle Wiggily said:
"Well, there are certainly queer things happening nowadays. I never would have believed it if you hadn't told me."
Now, listen, to-morrow night's story is going to be about—let me see—Oh! on second thought I believe there are enough stories in this book, and, if you would like to read some more I'll have to put them in another. How would you like to hear about some squirrels? Billie and Johnnie Bushytail and Sister Sallie and Jennie Chipmunk and their friends, eh? If you would like to read of them you can do so in the next volume, which is going to be named, "Bedtime Stories: Johnnie and Billie Bushytail." I hope you will like the squirrels, for they are very good friends of Sammie and Susie Littletail, and Uncle Wiggily Longears, too. Now, good-bye for a little while, dear children.