Little Jack Rabbit and Chippy Chipmunk.

by David Cory.

LOLLYPOP SYRUP

One day as Little Jack Rabbit was hopping home to the Old Bramble Patch, he came across something sweet. And what do you suppose it was? Why, a big tin pail half full of lollypop juice, standing under a little spout that was driven into a yellow lollypop tree.

"My, but it tastes good," he said, holding his mouth under the spout to let the sap drip onto his little red tongue. "I wish I had some buckwheat cakes with me."

But he didn't, so he took a little gla.s.s bottle out of his knapsack and filled it with the sweet juice.

But, oh dear me! Just then he heard a deep growl.

"Oh dear and oh dear!" cried Little Jack Rabbit, giving a hop to one side to hide behind an old stump.

And then the deep growling voice said again, quick as a wink:

"Who's stealing my lollypop sap?"

"n.o.body," answered the little rabbit, peeking out from behind the old stump. And then, would you believe it, he hopped out all the way, for there stood the Big Brown Bear.

"I'll excuse you this time," said that friendly old bear with a grin.

"Come into my cave and see all the lollypops I've made from the sap of the lollypop tree."

Well, there certainly were lots and lots of little lollypops piled on the shelves.

"Do you make buckwheat cakes?" asked the little rabbit.

"Every morning," answered the Big Brown Bear, "and I just drown 'em in lollypop syrup!"

The little rabbit smacked his lips.

"If you'll spend the night, I'll give you buckwheat cakes for breakfast," said the Big Brown Bear.

And Little Jack Rabbit did, and ate so many cakes the next morning that he couldn't b.u.t.ton up his jacket until the afternoon, when he set out once more for the Old Bramble Patch.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Little Jack Ate so Many Cakes That He Could Not b.u.t.ton His Jacket.]

Well, as he was hopping along, all of a sudden, just like that, he heard some one singing:

"Little Jack Rabbit goes clippity, clop; Little Bill Bunny goes lippity, lop; Little Chip Chipmunk goes jumpity, jump, Over the hollow, moss-covered stump."

"Why, h.e.l.lo, Chippy Chipmunk!" cried Little Jack Rabbit, sitting up on his hind legs. "What are you doing out here? Is it time for you to come out of your nice warm burrow?"

"I guess so," answered the little chipmunk. "Old Mr. Groundhog says so, and he ought to know."

"Come over," said the little rabbit, taking the bottle of syrup out of his pocket. "Do you want to taste something you'd suppose was lollypop juice? Open your mouth and shut your eyes and I'll give you the sweetest kind of surprise."

But, oh dear me. Little Jack Rabbit dropped the cork by mistake in the little chipmunk's mouth!

(Did you ever try to get a cork out of a bottle after it had slipped 'way down inside? Well, then, just think what a time we'll have with this little chipmunk.)

DR. HERON

"What was that?" asked the little chipmunk as he swallowed the cork.

But, goodness me, Little Jack Rabbit was too frightened to answer. He let the gla.s.s bottle drop to the ground, smashing it all to smithereens.

"The maple syrup was fine," went on Chippy Chipmunk, "but what was that hard little lump I swallowed?"

"Oh, please don't swell up and bust!" begged the little rabbit. "Mother says if you swallow a cork it will swell and swell inside you until you can't stand it any longer."

"What's that?" asked the little chipmunk. "Did I swallow a cork?"

"Yes, you did," sobbed Little Jack Rabbit. "And it's all my fault. I let it drop into your mouth by mistake. Of course, you didn't see it. How could you, with your eyes shut?"

Chippy Chipmunk was now thoroughly frightened. "You've murdered me, that's what you've done, Little Jack Rabbit. Oh, what shall I do?"

Just then who should come along but Dr. Heron. He had very long legs and a very long bill. All doctors have very long bills, otherwise it wouldn't pay to be a doctor.

"What's the trouble?" he asked, opening his little black bag. "Anybody sick?"

"I'm going to be," cried Chippy Chipmunk. "Oh, dear Dr. Heron, don't let me die! Please don't!"

"Stuff and nonsense! Don't talk like that!" said the big bird doctor.

"Put out your tongue."

"Can you see the cork?" asked Little Jack Rabbit. The little chipmunk was just going to ask the same question, but Dr. Heron had hold of his tongue, so he couldn't.

"See what?" asked the doctor. "What are you talking about?"

"Chippy Chipmunk swallowed a cork," said Little Jack Rabbit. "And he'll swell up and bust in just a few minutes. Oh, dear, oh, dear. And it's all my fault."

"Well, I do see something," said Dr. Heron, squinting down the little chipmunk's throat. "My, but it's a long way down." And Dr. Heron looked very serious, very serious indeed.

"Now sit still and don't you sneeze.

Open wider, if you please; Maybe I can pull it out If you do not cry or pout."

Then he pushed down his long thin bill and pulled out the cork.

"Oh joy!" cried Chippy Chipmunk as soon as Dr. Heron let go of his tongue.

"I usually charge ten little fishes for an operation like this, but, seeing it's you, and I didn't have to come all the way over to your house, I'll ask only five," said the kind bird doctor.