bawly no-tail, the frog boy, was hopping along through the woods one fine day, whistling a merry tune, and wondering if he would meet any of his friends, with whom he might have a game of ball. he had a baseball with him, and he was very fond of playing. i just wish you could have seen him stand up on his hind legs and catch balls in his mouth. it was as good as going to the best kind of a moving picture show. perhaps some day you may see bawly.
well, as i said, he was hopping along, tossing the ball up into the air and catching it, sometimes in his paw and sometimes in his mouth, when, all of a sudden he heard a funny pounding noise, that seemed to be in the bushes.
“gracious, i wonder what that can be!” exclaimed bawly, looking around for a good place to hide.
he was just going to crawl under a hollow stump, for he thought perhaps the noise might be made by a bad wolf, or a savage fox, sharpening his teeth on a hard log, when bawly heard some one say:
“there, i’ve dropped my hammer! oh, dear! now i’ll have to climb all the way down and get it, i s’pose.”
“well, that doesn’t sound like a wolf or a fox,” thought bawly. “i guess it’s safe to go on.”
so he didn’t hide under the stump, but hopped along, and in a little while he came to a place in the woods where there were no trees, and, bless you! if there wasn’t the cutest little house you’ve ever seen! it wasn’t quite finished, and, in fact, up on the roof was uncle wiggily longears, the old gentleman rabbit, putting on the shingles to keep out the rain if it came.
“oh, hello, uncle wiggily!” called bawly, joyfully.
“hello,” answered the rabbit carpenter. “you are just in time, bawly. would you mind handing me my hammer? it slipped and fell to the ground.”
“of course i’ll throw it up to you,” said bawly, kindly. “but you had better get behind the chimney, uncle wiggily, for i might hit you with the hammer, though, of course, i wouldn’t mean to. you see i am a very good thrower from having played ball so much.”
“i see,” answered uncle wiggily. “well, i’ll get behind the chimney.”
so bawly picked up the hammer and he threw it carefully toward the roof, but, would you believe me, he threw it so hard that it went right over the house, chimney and all, and fell down on the other side.
“my! you are too strong!” exclaimed uncle wiggily laughing so that his fur shook. “try again, bully, if you please.”
“oh, i’m bawly, not bully,” said the frog boy.
“excuse me, that was my mistake,” spoke the old gentleman rabbit. “i’ll get it right next time, peetie—i mean bawly.”
well, bawly threw the hammer again, and this time it landed right on the roof close to the chimney, and uncle wiggily picked it up and began nailing on more shingles.
“if you please,” asked bawly, when he had watched the rabbit carpenter put in about forty-’leven nails, “who is this house for?”
“it is for sammie and susie littletail,” answered uncle wiggily. “they are going to have rabbit play-parties in it, and i hope you and bully will come sometimes.”
“we’ll be glad to,” spoke bawly. then uncle wiggily drove in another nail, and the house was almost done.
“how do you get up and down off the roof?” asked bawly, who didn’t see any ladder.
“oh, i slide up and down a rope,” answered uncle wiggily. “i have a strong cord fastened to the chimney, and i crawl up it, just like a monkey-doodle, and when i want to come down, i slide down. it’s better than a ladder, and i can climb a rope very well, for i used to be a sailor on a ship. see, here is the rope.”
well, he took hold of it, near where it was fastened to the chimney, to show the frog boy how it was done, but, alas, and also alack-a-day! all of a sudden that rope became untied, it slipped out of uncle wiggily’s paw and fell to the ground! now, what do you think about that?
“oh, my! now i have gone and done it!” exclaimed the elderly rabbit, as he leaned over the edge of the roof and looked down. “now i am in a pickle!—if you will kindly excuse the expression. how am i ever going to get down? oh, dear me, suz dud and a piece of sticking-plaster likewise. oh, me! oh, my!”
“can’t you jump, uncle wiggily?” asked bawly.
“oh, my, no! i might be killed. it’s too far! i could never jump off the roof of a house.”
“perhaps you can climb down from one window shutter to the other, and so get to the ground,” suggested bawly.
“no,” said uncle wiggily, looking over the edge of the house again. “there are no window shutters on as yet. so i can’t climb on ’em.”
well, it did seem as if poor uncle wiggily would have to stay up there on the roof for a long, long time, for there was no way of getting down.
“if there was a load of hay here, you could jump on that, and you wouldn’t be hurt,” said bawly, scratching his nose.
“but there is no hay here,” said the rabbit carpenter, sadly.
“well, if there was a fireman here with a long ladder, then you could get down,” said bawly, wiggling his toes.
“but there is no fireman here,” objected uncle wiggily. “ah, i have it, bawly! you are a good jumper, perhaps you can jump up here to the roof with the rope and i can fasten it to the chimney again and slide down as i did before.”
“i’ll try,” said bawly, and he did; but bless you! he couldn’t jump as high as the house, no matter how many times he tried it. and the dinner bell rang and uncle wiggily was very hungry and very anxious to get off the roof and eat something.
“oh, i know how to do it!” cried bawly at length, when he had jumped forty-sixteen times. “i’ll tie a string to my baseball, and i’ll throw the ball up to you. then you catch it, untie the string, which i’ll keep hold of on this end, and i’ll tie the rope to the cord. then you can haul up the rope, fasten it to the chimney, and slide down.”
“good!” cried uncle wiggily, clapping his front paws together in delight.
well, if you’ll believe me, bawly did tie the string to his baseball and with one big throw he threw it right up to uncle wiggily, who caught it just as if he were on first base in a game. and then with the little cord, which reached down to the ground, he pulled up the big rope, knotted it around the chimney, and down he slid, just in time for dinner, and he took bawly home with him and gave him a penny.
now if it should happen that i don’t lose my watch down the inkwell so i can see when it’s time for my pussy cat to have his warm soup, i’ll tell you in the story after this about bully’s and bawly’s big jump.
