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Read Ebook: The Jester of St. Timothy's by Pier Arthur Stanwood
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Ebook has 978 lines and 35761 words, and 20 pages
"Well, Pussy is lost," spoke the Shoe Lady. "She went out to the store for Mrs. Purr while Fuzzo, Wuzzo and Muzzo were taking their tail-chasing lesson, and Pussy did not come back."
"What did she go to the store after?" Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.
"A yeast cake," answered Mother Hubbard. "But the yeast cake didn't come back, either."
"Not having any legs, I don't see how it could," said Uncle Wiggily. "But what is it you want me to do, ladies?" he asked, making a polite bow.
"Find Pussy Mew," said Mother Goose. "You were so clever at helping the king and queen and the maid in the garden hanging out the clothes, when along came a blackbird that nipped off her nose, that I'm sure you can find Pussy for us. We're really worried about her. Please find her."
"I'll try," promised Uncle Wiggily. So in a little while off he started, limping along on his red, white and blue tall silk hat, with his barber-pole rheumatism crutch on his head. Oh, no! excuse me, if you please--I mean he had his crutch under his paw and his hat on his head.
Over the fields and through the woods went Uncle Wiggily until, pretty soon, he came to the hollow-stump school where the lady mouse taught the animal children their lessons. The bell was ringing, for it was time for the children to run out to play at recess.
"Ha! I wonder if Pussy Mew could have gone to school, forgetting to come home with the yeast cake," said Uncle Wiggily. "I'll inquire."
He asked the lady mouse teacher, but she said that Pussy was not in school, so Uncle Wiggily hurried on, looking all through the woods and over the fields. But no Pussy did he find until, all at once, as he came near a well, he felt thirsty for a drink of water.
"Oh, how I wish I had a drink!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "I wonder if I could get one."
He went to the edge of the well, but it was an old one, and there was no rope or bucket by which water could be pulled up. Then the old rabbit gentleman saw something shining brightly down at the bottom of the well, and he called out:
"Is any one down there who could give me a drink of water?"
"Yes, I am down here," was the answer, "but I cannot give you a drink of water for I cannot get up myself."
"Who are you?" asked Uncle Wiggily, surprised like.
Just then the school bell rang again, and a voice said:
"Ding-dong bell, Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Johnnie Green. Who pulled her out? Big Johnnie Stout.
"Only that last part isn't right," the voice went on, "for Big Johnnie Stout hasn't come to pull me out. But I'm in the well, as you can tell by the ding-dong bell. Oh, dear! I don't know what to do. I want so much to get out."
"I'll help you out, Pussy," said Uncle Wiggily, kindly. "I have been looking all over for you. But if you are in the well how is it that you did not sink to the bottom?"
"Because I have with me a yeast cake that I went to the store to get," was the answer. "The yeast cake makes bread light, so it will rise, and it made me light, so I could rise to the top of the water."
"Good!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "It was the shiny tinfoil of the yeast cake I saw at the bottom of the well. I'll soon have you out now, Pussy."
He gave a jump over to a wild grape vine, gnawed off a piece with his strong teeth, and then, using the grape vine as a rope, he lowered it down into the well. Pussy took hold of it with her claws and paws, putting the yeast cake in one ear, and Uncle Wiggily easily pulled her out. She was wet, but not hurt at all.
"Oh, thank you, Uncle Wiggily," Pussy Mew said. "So it was you, and not Johnnie Stout, who pulled me out?"
"Of that there is no doubt," laughed Uncle Wiggily. "But did Johnnie Green push you in?"
"No, I stumbled and fell in," answered Pussy. "Everything about me in the Mother Goose story is wrong except the part like 'ding-dong bell, Pussy's in the well.' I really was in."
Then Pussy hurried on to her aunt's house with the yeast cake, and all was well. And Mother Goose was very thankful to Uncle Wiggily for having helped the little cat, who, ever after that was called the "ding-dong-bell pussy."
So in the next chapter, if the piano music doesn't go to sleep in the bread box, where the phonograph can't find it to play with, I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the Shoe Lady.
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE SHOE LADY
"WHERE are you going, Uncle Wiggily?" asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, who kept house for Mr. Longears, the rabbit gentleman. "Where are you going this fine day?"
"To the store," answered the bunny uncle.
"To the store? Why, I don't want anything," spoke Nurse Jane. "You are always so kind, going to the store whenever I need anything, but nothing is needed for the hollow-stump bungalow to-day."
"I am going to the store for myself," Uncle Wiggily said. "I am going to buy a new pair of shoes."
So off he hopped, leaning on his red, white and blue-striped barber-pole rheumatism crutch, over the fields and through the woods until he came to the shoe store.
"A pair of shoes? Certainly," said the monkey-doodle gentleman who kept the store. "Will you have high shoes or low shoes?"
"Well, as it is near Spring I'll get low shoes," Uncle Wiggily said. "They will be cooler if I should happen to go down to the Asbury Park ocean board walk."
"Ties, we call them, instead of low shoes, but it is all the same," went on the monkey-doodle. "Here you are."
He brought out a pair of low shoes, or ties, but, when Uncle Wiggily tried to get them on, his feet would not go into them.
"I see--too tight," said the monkey-doodle. "I will put a little talcum powder in the shoes and your foot will then easily slip in."
But, even with the talcum powder, Uncle Wiggily's paws would not slip in.
"I must use a shoe-horn," said the monkey.
"Is a shoe-horn something to play on?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"No, it is something to make a shoe slip on easily," said the monkey-doodle. He brought out a smooth, shiny piece of tin, like a big tablespoon without a handle. Holding this against his heel, Uncle Wiggily could easily slip his foot into his new shoe. Soon he had them both on, and they fitted him well.
"Are they too tight?" asked the monkey-doodle, as the bunny gentleman stepped around the store, practicing.
"No, they're just right," said Uncle Wiggily. "They go on a bit hard, but once I have put them on with the shoe-where the shoe-horn they are very nice. I'll take them."
"And you may have some talcum powder and the shoe-horn to take with you, to put your shoes on easily whenever you wish," said the monkey. For you know Uncle Wiggily pulled the shoe-horn out of his shoe, once he had his foot in. They couldn't both be there at the same time, you see.
Away hopped the rabbit gentleman in his new shoes and with the shoe-horn and the slippery-sliding talcum powder in his pocket.
"Well, now I have my new shoes I wonder if I will meet with an adventure to-day?" thought Uncle Wiggily, as he hopped on. And he did. I'll tell you about it.
Pretty soon he came to a great, big shoe, standing in the middle of the woods. The shoe had a roof over it, with a chimney sticking out of the top. There was a door to the shoe, and windows. In fact, it was a house, made out of a great, big shoe which a giant used to wear.
"Ha! This is where the Old Woman lives," said Uncle Wiggily. "The Shoe Lady. I wonder if she is at home?"
He was going to knock on the door and ask how all the children were, when, from inside the shoe there came the sound of crying; children crying; many of them.
"Ha! I wonder if that means trouble?" asked Uncle Wiggily of himself. "I had better see if I can do anything to help."
He knocked on the door, and the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, or Shoe Lady, as I call her for short, opened it.
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