a place to hide himself
away from the wolf but he couldn't seem to find any, and he was just going
to crawl under a stone and maybe hurt himself, when all at once he heard a
voice say:

"Jump up here, Uncle Wiggily. I'll hide you from the wolf."

So the rabbit traveler looked up, and there he saw a flower called
Jack-in-the-pulpit looking down on him. I've told you about them before,
how the frog once took his bath in one, and how, when you pick a
wood-bouquet you put them in with some ferns to make the bouquet look
pretty. They are a flower like a vase, with a top curling over, and a
thing standing up in the centre whose name is "Jack."

"Jump in here," said the Jack. "I'll fold my top down over you like an
umbrella, and the wolf can't find you."

"But you are so small that I can't get inside," said the rabbit.

"Oh, I'll make myself bigger," cried the Jack, I and he took a long
breath, and puffed himself up and swelled himself up, until he was large
enough for Uncle Wiggily to jump down inside. Then the Jack-in-the-pulpit
closed down the umbrella top over the rabbit, and he was hidden away as
nice and snug as could be wished.

Pretty soon that bad savage wolf came prancing along, and he looked all
over for the rabbit. Then he sniffed and cried:

"Ha! I smell him somewhere around here! I'll find him!" But he couldn't
see Uncle Wiggily because he was safely hidden in the Jack-in-the-pulpit.
So the wolf raged around some more and chased after his tail, and just as
he smelled the rabbit hidden in the flower, the July bug flew down out of
the tree, bang! right into the eyes of the wolf, and then the savage
creature felt so badly that he ran home and ate cold bread and water for
supper, and he didn't bother Uncle Wiggily any more that day.

So that's how the Jack-in-the-pulpit saved the rabbit and very thankful
Uncle Wiggily was. And he stayed that night in a hollow stump, and the
next day he went on to seek his fortune.

And quite a curious thing happened to him, as I shall have the pleasure of
telling you about soon, when in case our canoe boat doesn't turn upside
down and spill out the breakfast oatmeal, the next bedtime story will be
about Uncle Wiggily and the lost chipmunk.

STORY IX

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE LOST CHIPMUNK

Uncle Wiggily was walking along the road one morning, after he had slept
all night in the hollow stump. He didn't have any breakfast either, for
there was nothing left in his val