they were almost at the hollow stump school
when, all at once, from behind a big stone popped the bad
ear-scratching cat.

"Ah, ha!" howled the cat. "I am just in time I see. I haven't
scratched any ears in ever and ever so long. And you have such nice,
big ears, Uncle Wiggily, that it is a real pleasure to scratch them!"

"Do you mean it is a pleasure for me, or for you?" asked the bunny
uncle, softly like.

"For me, of course!" meaouwed the cat. "Get ready now for the
ear-scratching! Here I come!"

"Oh, please don't scratch my ears!" begged Uncle Wiggily. "Please
don't!"

"Yes, I shall!" said the bad cat, stretching out his claws.

"Would you mind scratching my ears, instead of Uncle Wiggily's?" asked
Jimmie. "I'll let you scratch mine all you want to."

"I don't want to," spoke the cat. "Your ears are so small that it is
no pleasure for me to scratch them--none at all."

"It was very kind of you to offer your ears in place of mine," said
Uncle Wiggily to the duck boy. "But I can't let you do that. Go on,
bad cat, if you are going to scratch my ears, please do it and have it
over with."

"All right!" snarled the cat. "I'll scratch your ears!" She was just
going to do it, when Jimmie suddenly picked up a new flower, and
holding it toward the cat cried:

"No, you can't scratch Uncle Wiggily's ears! This is a dog-tooth
violet I have just picked, and if you harm Uncle Wiggily I'll make the
dog-tooth violet bite you!"

And then the big violet went: "Bow! Wow! Wow!" just like a dog, and
the cat thinking a dog was after him, meaouwed:

"Oh, my! Oh, dear! This is no place for me!" and away he ran, not
scratching Uncle Wiggily at all.

Then Jimmie put the dog-tooth violet (which did not bark any more) in
his bouquet and the lady mouse teacher liked the May flowers very much.
Uncle Wiggily took his flowers to Nurse Jane.

And if the umbrella doesn't turn inside out, so its ribs get all wet
and sneeze the handle off, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and
the beech tree.

STORY XXVI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE BEECH TREE

"Will you go to the store for me, Uncle Wiggily?" asked Nurse Jane
Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, of the rabbit gentleman one
day, as he sat out on the porch of his hollow stump bungalow in the
woods.

"Indeed I will, Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy," said Mr. Longears, most politely.
"What is it you want?"

"A loaf of bread and a pound of sugar," she answered, and