en one of them bursts." And just then, surely
enough, "Pop! Bang!" went another toy balloon, bursting and
shriveling all up.
Uncle Wiggily looked in the front window of the store and saw some
blown-up balloons that had not burst.
"I'll take two of those," he said to the monkey-doodle gentleman.
"Sammie and Susie Littletail will like to play with them."
"Better take two or three," said the monkey-doodle gentleman. "I'll
let you have them cheap, as they are old balloons, and they will
burst easily."
So he let the air out of four balloons and gave them to Uncle
Wiggily to take home to the bunny children.
The rabbit gentleman started off through the snow-storm toward the
underground house, but he had not gone very far before, just as he
was coming out from behind a big stump, he heard voices talking.
"Now, I'll tell you how we can get those rabbits," Uncle Wiggily
heard one voice say. "I'll crawl down in the burrow, and as soon as
they see me they'll be scared and run out--Uncle Wiggily, Mrs.
Littletail, the two children, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy and all. Then
you can grab them, Mr. Bigtail! I am glad I happened to meet you!"
"Ah, ha!" thought Uncle Wiggily. "Mr. Bigtail! I ought to know that
name. It's the fox, and he and some one else seem to be after us
rabbits. But I thought the fox promised to be good and let me alone.
He must have changed his mind."
Uncle Wiggily peeked cautiously around the stump, taking care to
make no noise, and there he saw a fox and another animal talking.
And the rabbit gentleman saw that it was not the fox who had
promised to be good, but another one, of the same name, who was bad.
"Yes, I'll go down the hole and drive out the rabbits and you can
grab them," said the queer animal.
"That's good," growled the fox, "but to whom have I the honor of
speaking?" That was his way of asking the name of the other animal,
you see.
"Oh, I'm called Mr. Pop-Goes," said the other.
"Mr. Pop-Goes! What a queer name," said the fox, and all the while
Uncle Wiggily was listening with his big ears, and wondering what it
all meant.
"Oh, Pop-Goes isn't all my name," said the queer animal. "Don't you
know the story in the book? The monkey chased the cobbler's wife all
around the steeple. That's the way the money goes, Pop! goes the
weasel. I'm Mr. Pop-Goes, the weasel, you see. I'm 'specially good
at chasing rabbits."
"Oh, I see!" barked Mr. Bigtail, the fox. "Well, I'll be glad if you
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