rabbit! Did you
see?"

And a big automobile, with real people in it, shot past. It was the
horn of the auto that Uncle Wiggily had heard, and not a wild goose.

"Ha! That came pretty close to me," thought Uncle Wiggily, as the
auto went on down the road. "I never ride my automobile as fast as
that, even when I sprinkle pepper on the bologna sausage tires. I
don't like to scare any one."

Perhaps the people in the auto did not mean to so nearly run over
Uncle Wiggily. Let us hope so.

The old gentleman rabbit hopped on down the road, that was between
the woods and the fields, and, pretty soon, he saw something bright
and shining in the dust, near where the auto had passed.

"Oh, maybe that's a diamond," he said, as he stooped over to pick it
up. But it was only a shiny button-hook, and not a diamond at all.
Some one in the automobile had dropped it.

"Well, I'll put it in my pocket," said Uncle Wiggily to himself. "It
may come in useful to button Nurse Jane's shoes, or mine."

The bunny gentleman went on a little farther, and, pretty soon, he
came to a tiny house, with a red chimney sticking up out of the
roof.

"Ha! I wonder who lives there?" said Uncle Wiggily.

He stood still for a moment, looking through his glasses at the
house and then, all of a sudden, he saw a little lady, with a tall,
peaked hat on, run out and look up and down the road. Her hat was
just like an ice cream cone turned upside down. Only don't turn your
ice cream cone upside down if it has any cream in it, for you might
spill your treat.

"Help! Help! Help!" cried the lady, who had come out of the house
with the red chimney.

"Ha! That sounds like trouble!" said Uncle Wiggily. "I think I had
better hurry over there and see what it is all about."

He hopped over toward the little house, and, when he reached it he
saw that the little lady who was calling for help was Mother Goose
herself.

"Oh, Uncle Wiggily!" exclaimed Mother Goose. "I am so glad to see
you! Will you please go for help for me?"

"Why, certainly I will," answered the bunny gentleman. "But what
kind of help do you want; help for the kitchen, or a wash-lady help
or----"

"Neither of those," said Mother Goose. "I want help so Little Jack
Horner can get his thumb out of the pie."

"Get his thumb out of the pie!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "What in the
world do you mean?"

"Why, you see it's this way," went on Mother Goose. "Jack Horner
lives here. You must have heard a