Uncle Wiggily And The Slippery Steps

“Dear me! What a dreadful day to be out!” exclaimed Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy one afternoon, as Uncle Wiggily hopped into the hollow stump bungalow.

“You may well say that,” spoke the bunny rabbit gentleman to his muskrat lady housekeeper, as he shook out some water, which had run down inside one of his ears. “It is raining hard and now it will be freezing up. Dreadful weather indeed!”

“Why did you go out?” asked Nurse Jane, as she put the rabbit gentleman’s dry slippers where he could slip his paw into them.

“I wend out to look for an adventure,” he answered. “But I think it must have been too wet for them. Not an adventure did I find. And when the rain began freezing as fast as it fell, I started home.”

“I am glad you came back,” spoke Nurse Jane. It certainly is very unpleasant out,” and she looked from the window, watching the rain splash down, freezing as it fell on the trees, on the ground, on the fences and on the steps of the hollow stump bungalow.

Soon a coating of ice had formed over everything out of doors, making the tree branches look like crystal candy in the toy shop. Each twig grew to twice its size because of the coating of ice on the outside.

All of a sudden, as Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane were sitting in their warm cozy hollow stump bungalow, there was a bumping banging sound at the front steps.

“Oh, what can that be? Cried Nurse Jane. “I hope t hat isn’t the Fuzzy Fox or the Woozie Wolfe trying to come in!”

“I’ll go see who it was,” spoke the bunny.

Nurse Hane hard him open the front door and then Uncle Wiggily said:

“oh, I am so sorry! Yes, indeed, I’ll do something about it right away!”

“I wonder what could have happened!” thought the muskrad lady.

On tiptoe she went in to the front hall. She saw Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear gentleman, limping off own the path.

“What was the matter, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Nurse Jane.

“Oh, Mr. Whitewash came to bring me the mail,” said the bunny, “and he slipped on the ice covered steps. They must be very slippery when a polar bear, who is used to ice and snow, can’t stand up.”

“Yes, indeed, our steps are very slippery,” agreed Nurse Jane as she looked at them. “There is a thick coating of frozen rain on the front porch and steps. Whoever else comes up them will fall. You ought to do something about it, Uncle Wiggily.”

“I am going to, answered the bunny.

“If we had some ashes or sawdust or something like that to sprinkle on the ice, the steps wouldn’t be so slippery,” went on Nurse Jane.

“I know something better than ashes or sawdust,” said Uncle Wiggily.

“What would that be?” Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy wanted to know.

“Salt!” answered the bunny.

“Salt?” cried Nurse Jane.

“Salt!” said the bunny again. “If I sprinkle salt on the ice of the steps the salt will melt the ice and then it will be slippery no more. I shall scatter some salt on my slippery steps.

No sooner said than done. Uncle Wiggily went to the pantry to get the salt shaker. And while he was there he saw the pepper caster.

“I’ll take that too,” said Uncle Wiggily to himself. “I salt is good to melt ice, as I know it is, a little hot pepper will help.” I’ll sprinkle salt and pepper on the ice of my steps.”

First Uncle Wiggily put some salt on and almost at once, the top ice began to melt.

“Ah, that’s the trick!” cried the bunny. But no sooner had he spoken than a rough voice cried:

“Yes, and now it is time for me to play a trick! I am going to play a trick on your ears!” And up rushed the Bob cat.

“Oh, please don’t nibble my ears begged the bunny.

“Yes I shall! I am a wild Bob Cat and I must nibble ears!” howled the bad chap.

“wll,” said Uncle Wiggily “I have heard that sprinkling salt on a birds tail will tame it. I’ll put some salt on your tail and tame you.” And the bunny sprinkled salt on the silly little tail of the Bob Cat.

“Ho! Ho! It takes more than salt to tame me!” howled the bad chap. “Salt may melt ice, but it can’t tame me!”

“No! Then perhaps pepper will tame you!” laughed Uncle Wiggily. So he sprinkled pepper on the Bob Cat’s eyes and more.

“Oh, wow! Oh, jow! Oh, ker-choo! Ker-choo-choo!” sneezed the Bob Cat. And he sneezed himself backward down the slippery steps and away he ran, with salt on his tail and pepper in his eyes. So he didn’t nibble the bunny’s ears after all. And I’m glad; aren’t you?

So, if the looking glass doesn’t try to read the paper of pins and get all stuck up, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily’s tooth brush.

Uncle Wiggily’s Halloween

Hopping along under the bushes one day near the edge of the forest, nearest to where lived the real boys and girls, Uncle Wiggily Longears, but bunny rabbit gentleman, heard two boys talking together.

“We’ll put a tick-tack on her window,” said the first boy.

“And she’ll be scared stiff!” said the second boy. “Oh, what fun we’ll have this Halloween!”

“Hum!” thought the bunny rabbit gentleman to himself, after hearing this. “It may be fun for you, but how about whoever it is you’re going to scare stiff? I only hope it isn’t my nice muskrat lady housekeeper, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy!” Uncle Wiggily twinkled his pink nose and listened with both ears.

“Yes,” went on the first boy, “we’ll have a lot of fun this Halloween with tick-tacks and the like of that! And we’ll put on false faces so the Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane won’t know us!”

“Oh ho! So that’s the one they[re going to play tricks on, is it?” thought Uncle Wiggily to himself. “The Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane! I know her –poor creature; she lives all alone and she may have a cupboard, like Old Mother Hubbard, but she hasn’t a dog or a bone. I suppose,” thought Uncle Wiggily, “that Jackie or Peetie Bow Wow would stay with her if she wanted them. I must see about it.

“But first of all, I must plan some way so these mischievous boys won’t put a tick-tack on the window of the Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane. I know what tick-tacks are!”

And well Uncle Wiggily knew, for sometimes the boys and girls of Woodland, near the Orange Ice Mountains where the bunny had built his hollow stump bungalow, put one of the scary things on his window. That is, they were scary if you didn’t know what they were, but Uncle Wiggily did.

Oftentimes Sammie Littletail, the rabbit or Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels would take some string, a pin and an old nail, or little stone, and make a tick-tack. They fastened a short piece of string to the pin, and on the other end of the string they tied a dangling stone. When it grew dark the animal chaps would sneak up to Uncle Wiggily’s window and stick the pin in the wooden sash so the stone, or nail, hung dangling down against the glass. Then they would tide a long string, or thread, about half way down the short cord and hide off in the bushes holding the other end of the long string in their paws.

From their hiding place the animal boys would tug a little on their long string. The pebble or stone would rattle against Uncle Wiggily’s glass window making a sound like: “…Tick! …Tack! …Tick! …Tack”.

That’s how it got its name, you see.

“So, they are going to play tick-tack on the Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane, are they?” said Uncle Wiggily to himself, as the two boys walked away. “Well, I must try to stop them!”

Mulberry Lane was a street near the forest where the bunny gentleman lived in his hollow stump bungalow, and the Little Old Lady was the only one whose house was built there. The bunny liked the Little Old Lady, for in winter she scattered crumbs for the birds.

Uncle Wiggily hopped home to his hollow stump and from the attic he took down one of his old, tall silk hats.

“What in the world are you doing, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Nurse Jane. “Do you think it is April Fool, and are you going to wear an old hat so the animal boys won’t play tricks on you?”

“Well, not exactly,” the bunny answered. “I’ll tell you later, Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy –if it works.”

“Hum!” said the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she saw Mr. Longears put in his pocket some pieces of white paper and a bit of paste in a jar. “I do believe he’s going use those paper strips to fly a kite –and on Halloween, of all nights!”

For it quickly became evening and Halloween was starting.

As soon as the dusky shadows began to fall, strange figures flitted to and fro, not only in the woods of the animal folk, but on the other side, in the village where the real boys and girls lived.

Real boys and girls, with the faces of clowns and bears and children with masks of all kinds skipped here and there, ringing doorbells, or else they tapped on windows and ran so that when the windows were opened, no one could be seen. They played many tricks for their treats.

Uncle Wiggily, hopping off through the darkness toward the edge of the forest, carried with him one of Nurse Jane’s old brooms, an old, tall silk hat and a long coat the bunny gentleman had once tried to throw in the rag bag. Only Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy wouldn’t let him.

“I’ll mend it, sew on some new buttons and it will be as good as ever,” she said, and she did. Well, Uncle Wiggily found this coat and took it with him.

“I’ll stop those boys from putting a tick-tack on the window of the Little Old Lady of Mulberry lane,” thought the bunny as he hopped along.

He kept in the shadows of the trees where he knew his way in the dark and he saw Neddie Stubtail, the boy bear, dressed up like the Pipsisewah and Billie Wagtail, the goat, who had on a false face just like the old Skeezicks.

Here and there animal children were hurrying to Halloween parties. Lulu and Alice Wibblewobble, the ducks were giving one, and Baby Bunty, the little rabbit girl, was invited to ‘bob’ for carrots at the house of Buddy and Brighteyes, the ginuea pig children.

Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, who were dressed in clown suits, hurrying to have fun with Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels, caught sight of Uncle Wiggily.

“Come and have some Halloween fun with us!” barked Jackie.

“I will in a little while,” waived the bunny with his broom in one paw and his costume in the other.

On and on he hopped and soon he came to the house of the Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane. The bunny could see through her window that she was reading a book by the light of a candle. I’ll stay here by her window,” thought the bunny, “and when those boys come back with the tick-tack –well, we’ll see what happens!”

Uncle Wiggily did not have long to wait. Pretty soon he heard a rustling in the bushes and some whispering.

“Here they are!” thought Mr. Longears.

He put the extra tall silk hat on top of the broom and fastened his old coat to the handle on a cross-stick he had nailed there. Then, taking the pieces of white paper from his pocket, Uncle Wiggily pasted them on the shiny part of the old silk hat in the shape of a grinning Jack o’ Lantern face. Then the bunny crouched down behind the bushes with the scarecrow he had made.

He heard one boy whispering to the other: “You sneak up and fasten the tick-tack to the window. I’ll pull the string so it will rattle and scare the Old Lady stiff!”

“I want to pull the string, too!” said the other boy.

“Yes, you can, after you fasten the tick-tack.”

“Well, give it here then,” said the second boy
They were so close to the bush, behind which Uncle Wiggily was hidden, that the bunny could have reached out and touched them with his paw if he had wished.

But he didn’t do that. Instead, Uncle Wiggily suddenly lifted up the broom, dressed as it was in the old coat and the tall hat with the grinning, white paper face made to look like a grinning Jack o’ Lantern.

“Boo-ooo-ooo-bunk!” wooed the bunny rabbit, scary-like.

The boys, who were just getting ready to frighten the Little Old lady of Mulberry lane, jumped up in fright themselves. They saw the queer face laughing at them.

“Oh, it’s a Halloween hobgoblin! A hobgoblin!” cried one boy.

“Come on! Come on!” shouted the other. “Let’s get out of here!” And dropping their string and their tick-tack and everything, away they ran. They never knew that it was only a bunny rabbit gentleman who had surprised them.

“Ha ha!” laughed Uncle Wiggily, as he peered out from behind his broomstick with the scary, tall-hat creature he had made. “I guess they won’t bother the Old Lady now!”

The Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane laid aside the book she had been reading and opened her door.

“Is anybody there?” she gently asked, looking out over her dark garden. “Seems to me I heard a noise-like. Is anybody there trying to play Halloween tricks on a poor lone body like me? Anybody there?”

No one answered –not even Uncle Wiggily –for he couldn’t speak real talk, you know. But he heard what the Old Lady said.

“Nobody there!” said the Little Old Lady of Mulberry Lane. “I guess it must have been the wind,” and she shut the door.

But we know it wasn’t the wind, don’t we?

Then the bunny gentleman hopped back to his own part of the forest to have Halloween fun with the rest of animal town, and maybe play a game of scotch checkers with Grandfather Goosey Gander, which he always enjoyed very much.

The frightened boys had run home and jumped right into bed without even getting any candy for their trouble. And if the piano key doesn’t unlock the door of the phonograph and let all the music run down the pussy cat’s tail, you may next hear of Uncle Wiggily and the poor dog.

Words of Grandparents

Grandmothers & grandfathers have remarkable stories to tell. We should get them all talking and then just sit back to listen.

Here’s my grandfather writing about his grandfather, a man who was maybe 60 when my grandfather was born in 1873 and who was closing in on 70 in 1880 when this story is told.

In the wondering game of who-knows-who, one mind touches another down through the years. I knew a man who knew a man who was born about 1813, when the country wasn't yet 40 years old!

I knew my grandfather and he knew his. So, using the rich experience of living memory we can make a quick transit in just two grandfathers and leap-back two centuries in time.

These pages themselves are a half-century old. They’re originals from the reams of canary yellow paper that flowed through the rollers of the old Underwoods used by both my father and grandfather. They're from an unpublished autobiography of Howard Garis.