Once upon a time there was a dog so poor that he had no kennel to sleep in. He made his bed in old boxes and barrels along the street, or behind stores. And as for things to eat—that poor dog thought himself lucky if he found a bone without any meat on it! Oh, he was dreadfully poor, was that dog! He had no collar to wear, though of course he did not miss a necktie, for dogs never wear those. But when this dog saw other dogs, with shiny brass or nickel collars around their necks, when he saw some of them riding in automobiles as he splashed through the mud, and when he looked over in yards and saw some dogs gnawing juicy, meaty bones in front of their warm kennels—this poor dog sometimes felt sad.
"I don't see what use I am in this world," thought the poor dog, as he chased away a tickling fly who wanted to ride on his tail. "I certainly can't help anyone, for I can hardly help myself! I think I'll go off in the woods and get lost! Yes, that's what I'll do," barked the poor dog. "Get lost!"
Perhaps if he had had a good breakfast that morning, with a biscuit or two, or even a slice of puppy cake, he might have been more happy. As it was, after crawling out of an empty rain-water barrel, where he had slept all night, and after finding only a small bone for his breakfast, this dog went off to the woods.
[Pg 143] "Good-bye, everybody!" he softly barked, as he stood on the edge of the forest, and looked back toward the village he was leaving. But there was no one even to bark a farewell to him. All alone the poor dog started into the woods. "Good-bye!" he whined.
Now in this same forest, on the opposite side from the trees nearest the village, stood the hollow stump bungalow of Uncle Wiggily Longears. And this same morning that the poor dog decided to lose himself, the bunny rabbit gentleman started out with his tall, silk hat, his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, and his pink twinkling nose to look for an adventure.
"Keep your eyes open for the Woozie Wolf or the Fuzzy Fox!" called Nurse Jane, the muskrat lady housekeeper as Mr. Longears hopped away.
"I will!" promised the bunny uncle.
Uncle Wiggily hopped along and along and along, looking behind bushes and rocks for an adventure when, all of a sudden, he saw a sort of hole down in between two logs.
"Perhaps there is an adventure down in there for me," said the rabbit gentleman. "I'll poke my paw down in and find out. This hole isn't large enough to be the den of the Fox or Wolf."
Uncle Wiggily thrust one of his forepaws down into the hole, and began feeling around between the logs. He touched something soft and fuzzy, and he was just beginning to think that perhaps Baby Bunty was hiding down there so he couldn't tag her when, all of a quickness, those logs rolled together. Before Uncle Wiggily could pull out his paw it was caught fast, and there he was, held just as if he were in a trap.
[Pg 144] "Oh, my goodness me, sakes alive, and a basket of soap bubbles!" cried the bunny rabbit gentleman. "I'm caught! How dreadful! I must get out!"
Well, he pulled and he pulled and he pulled, but still his paw was held fast. He scrabbled around among the dried leaves, he tried to lift one log off the other with his rheumatism crutch, and he tried to gnaw a hole in the top log that held him fast. But it was all of no use.
"Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to stay here forever, unless I get help!" thought Uncle Wiggily. "But I must call for aid! Perhaps Grandpa Goosey, or Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, will hear me!"
Who calls for help?
Uncle Wiggily stopped his pin............