Читать книгу Uncle Wiggily and the Littletails - Howard R Garis - Страница 6

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When Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy called out to the two bunny children to run away from the ferret, Sammie and Susie were so frightened that they hardly knew what to do. Their mother came into the sitting-room of the burrow, from the dark bedroom where she had gone to lie down, because of a headache, and she also was much alarmed. So was Uncle Wiggily Longears, who was awakened from his nap by the cries of the nurse.

“Run and hide! Run and hide!” called Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy, and all the rabbits ran and hid. The ferret, which was a long, slender animal, something like a weasel, had been put into the burrow by the hunter, who stood outside at the back door, hoping the rabbits would run out that way so he could shoot them. But they did not. Instead, they went into the darkest part of the underground house. Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy went bravely up to the ferret.

“Now you get right out of this house,” she said. “We don’t want you here!”

The ferret said nothing, but kept crawling all around, looking for the rabbits. He was careful to keep away from the muskrat, for, in spite of her soft name, Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy had very sharp and hard teeth.

“Come on, now; get right out of here!” the nurse ordered again, but the ferret would not go. He wanted to catch the rabbits. Then the muskrat lady nurse jumped right up on his back and bit him quite hard on one of his little ears. The ferret squealed at this.

Next Miss Fuzzy-Wuzzy nipped him on the other ear; not very hard, you know, but just hard enough to make that ferret wish he had stayed out of the underground house.

“Now will you go?” asked the nurse.

“Yes,” said the ferret, “I will,” and he turned around and walked right out of the house. The hunter was very much surprised when his ferret appeared without having driven out any rabbits.

“Well,” said the hunter, “I guess I made a mistake, but I was sure I saw a rabbit go down that hole. I think I had better be going.” So he called his dog, put his ferret into his pocket and went away. And, oh, how glad Sammie and Susie Littletail were!

Pretty soon Papa Littletail came hurrying home. As soon as he entered the burrow the children noticed that he was rather pale. He said that he had had a terrible fright, for, as he was on his way home from Mr. Drake’s house, a boy had pointed a big, black thing at him, which clicked like a gun, but did not make a loud noise. Then Susie told her father about the dog who chased her, and how the ferret had frightened them.

“It is a good thing you were not shot,” said Mamma Littletail to her husband. “I don’t know what we would have done if such a dreadful thing had happened. Boys are terrible.”

“I did have a narrow escape,” admitted Papa Littletail. “The boy had a sort of square, black box, and I’m sure it was filled with bullets. It had a great, round, shiny eye, that he pointed straight at me, and, when something clicked, he cried out, ‘There, I have him!’ But I did not seem to be hurt.”

“I know what happened to you,” said Uncle Wiggily Longears, and he rubbed his leg that had the worst rheumatism in it. “You had your picture taken; that’s all.”

“My picture taken?” repeated Papa Littletail, as he scratched his left ear, which he always did when he was puzzled.

“That is it,” said the children’s uncle. “It happened to me once. The boy had a camera, not a gun. It does not hurt to have your picture taken. It is not like being shot.”

“Then I wish all hunters would take pictures of us, instead of shooting at us,” said Sammie, and Susie, also, thought that would be much nicer. Uncle Wiggily told how lovers of animals often take their pictures, to put in books and magazines, for little boys and girls to look at.

“Well,” said Papa Littletail, “I suppose I should be very proud to have my picture taken, but I am not the least bit.”

Then he gave Sammie some nice pieces of chocolate-covered turnip, which Mr. Drake had sent to the little boy with the lame leg.

“Do you think I can get out to-morrow?” asked Sammie, after supper. “My leg is quite well.”

“I think so,” replied his papa. “I will ask Dr. Possum.”

Which he did, and Sammie was allowed to go out. He had a very curious adventure, too, and I think I shall tell you about it in the next story if you go to bed early now. Though I wouldn’t like to hear that the apple dumpling fell off the table and made crumbs on the gas stove.