Buddy and Brighteyes Pigg Part 8

And he wasn't hurt the least mite, but he was very thankful to Uncle Wiggily, the old rabbit gentleman, and Buddy never tried to walk a tight rope, nor a loose one again.

Now, in case there is no salt in the ice cream to make the rag doll sneeze, I'll tell you in the following story about Brighteyes Pigg in a tin can.

STORY XI

BRIGHTEYES IN A TIN CAN

Of course, when Mamma Pigg came home the afternoon that Buddy tried to walk a tight rope (for she had been away visiting Mrs. Wibblewobble when it happened) she had to hear about it. Buddy and Brighteyes would have told her, anyhow, for they always did, but, as it was, Mrs. Pigg saw a scratch on Buddy's leg, where the rope had hurt him when he fell, and she wanted to know all about it. Then Buddy told her of the trick he had tried to perform.

"Little guinea pigs are safer on the ground," she said. "Leave such things to Billie and Johnnie Bushytail, or the Bow Wows, who were once in a circus. Now get washed for supper, for your papa will soon be here, and I think he'll fetch a quart of carrot ice cream, as it is so hot."

And sure enough, Dr. Pigg did, and the carrot ice cream was the best Brighteyes and Buddy had ever tasted, they thought.

Well, it was about two days after this that Brighteyes Pigg was sent to the store for her mother, to get a nutmeg, a yeast cake, and a bottle of blueing. Brighteyes started off, hurrying through the woods, where once the owl had tried to get Buddy into the den of the old fox, and soon the little guinea pig girl was at the grocery.

She got the things, and the storekeeper put them in a paper bag for her, and back she started.

It was so warm that, after Brighteyes had reached a cool place in the woods, near where a little brook ran over the stones, making a gurgling noise, very pleasant to hear, she sat down to rest. And she hadn't been sitting there more than about ten long breaths, when she saw, beside the stream, a tin can.

"Now I wonder what is in that can?" thought Brighteyes. "I'm going to see. Perhaps it's something good to eat, and I can take some home to Buddy," for she was very kind to her brother, you understand.

So she went up to the can, but wasn't she disappointed when she saw that it was empty! The open end was on the side that was turned away from her, and that's why at first she thought it was full. But she smelled of the opening, and oh, what a delicious perfume there was, sweet and sugary, and in a minute Brighteyes knew what it was.

"There has been mola.s.ses in that can!" she exclaimed. "Oh, if there's anything I dearly love it's mola.s.ses! I wonder if there is any left inside? Sometimes people don't quite empty the cans before they throw them away. I'm going to look."

So Brighteyes went closer, and, would you believe me? if she didn't see, away down in the lower edge of that can, as it rested on its side, a lot of nice mola.s.ses.

"Oh, I must have that!" cried Brighteyes, and, without thinking of what she was doing, she put her head and her forepaws inside that can. She found she could reach the mola.s.ses with her tongue, and she began to lick it up, wis.h.i.+ng she had some way of taking part of it to Buddy.

She was so excited over it that she even had taken her things from the grocery store inside the can with her. There she was, with only part of her body and her hind legs sticking out, and she was eating the mola.s.ses as fast as she could.

It kept tasting better and better, but, after a while, Brighteyes thought she had enough, and she started to pull her head out of the can.

But, oh dear me! She found she couldn't do it. The sharp edges of the tin caught in her fur, and there she was, stuck fast with the can over her head, and the nutmeg, the bottle of blueing and the yeast cake in there with her.

"Oh, dear me suz-dud!" she cried. "I'm fast!"

She tried to shake the can off, but it wouldn't shake. Then she tried to pull herself out, but the can was still on her head, and went everywhere she went, like Mary's little lamb. Then poor Brighteyes tried to stand up on her hind legs, and hit the can against a tree or a stone, thinking she could knock it off, but it wouldn't come off, and then she turned a somersault, thinking that would help, but, though she even stood on her head in the can, and wiggled her hind legs, it did no good.

"Oh, I'm caught fast!" cried the poor little creature, and she rolled around and around on the ground, thinking that would help some, but it didn't.

Then she heard some one coming along through the woods, and she called out: "Who's there? Please help me out of this can!"

"I'm Johnnie Bushytail," answered a voice. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brighteyes Pigg," she said. "Please help me."

But her voice sounded so queer and hollow, shut up as it was in the can, and the nutmeg rattled around so, like thunder, that Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel, was frightened, and ran away, without helping Brighteyes.

Then she felt like crying, but, in a little while she heard some one else coming along through the woods, and she called: "Oh, please help me! Who is there?"

"I'm Sammie Littletail," was the answer. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brighteyes Pigg," she replied. "Help me, please!"

But her voice sounded so strange and hollow in the can, and just then the yeast cake came bouncing out, where there was a little s.p.a.ce near Brighteyes' neck and the tinfoil was all s.h.i.+ning so that Sammie thought some one was shooting square, silver bullets at him, and away he ran.

Then Brighteyes was going to give up in despair, and she thought she would never, never get out, and she wished she had never eaten the mola.s.ses, when, all of a sudden, she heard some one else coming along, and between her sobs she cried out:

"Oh, please, whoever you are, don't run away! Help me out of this can!

Who are you?"

"I am Alice Wibblewobble, the duck," was the answer. "Who are you?"

"I am Brighteyes Pigg," said the little creature in the mola.s.ses can, and just then the bottle of blueing broke inside and the blue stuff ran out, trickling to one side.

"Oh, you must be the blue fairy!" cried Alice, and she took her strong bill and bent back the edges of the tin can so that Brighteyes could get out, which she soon did, and was not hurt in the least.

Of course Alice was surprised to see a guinea pig instead of a blue fairy, but she was glad she had saved Brighteyes, who had to go back to the store for another bottle of blueing. But the nutmeg and the yeast cake were all right.

Then Alice Wibblewobble poured the rest of the mola.s.ses out of the can into an empty acorn cup and Brighteyes took it home to Buddy, who liked it very much, and I almost wish I had some mola.s.ses candy; don't you?

Now, in the next story I'm going to tell you about Dr. Pigg and the firecracker; that is if the mosquitoes don't sing so loudly that they wake up the baby's rattle box.

STORY XII

DR. PIGG AND THE FIRECRACKER

Once upon a time it happened that, as Buddy Pigg was coming home from having played baseball with Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, and all his friends, he saw, lying beside the road, something long and round and red, with a little string dangling from it.

"Aha!" exclaimed Buddy Pigg; "there is a stick of red candy? Oh, fine!

Oh, dandy! I'll take it home, and give Brighteyes some."

That was because she had managed to bring him home some of the mola.s.ses that was in the can, in which the little girl guinea pig got stuck fast.

So Buddy picked up the long, round, red thing, with a string dangling from it, and took a big bite. That is, he tried to, but he found his teeth wouldn't go through it.

"Wow!" he cried. "That isn't a stick of candy at all."

And the funny part of it was that it wasn't a stick of candy. No, not in the least, I do a.s.sure you. What it was Buddy couldn't guess, though I suppose some of you children can.

Well, anyhow, he picked it up, and carried it in one paw, and his bat and catching glove in the other. And pretty soon whom should he meet hopping along but Bawly, the frog--Bully's brother, you know. And Bawly was singing away for dear life, this little song, which you will have to get some one to sing for you, as I am as hoa.r.s.e as two crows and a cricket. Well, anyhow, this is the song: