a little house built of green leaves.

"Ha!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "That is a very fine house. I wish I had
one like it in which to stay to-night. But it's too small for me. I guess
I'll have to keep on and look for a haystack under which to crawl."

Well, just as he said that, all of a sudden there was a little rustling,
scratching noise, and a bug came to the door of the queer little green
leaf house. The bug had a broom and she began sweeping off the front porch
and then she knocked the dirt out of the doormat, and then she swept some
cobwebs off the shutters and then she hurried out and swept off the
sidewalk, all so quickly that you could scarcely see her move.

"My, but she is a fast worker," said Uncle Wiggily. "She is almost as
quick as Jennie Chipmunk."

"I have to be!" exclaimed the bug, for the old gentleman rabbit had spoken
out loud without thinking, and the bug had heard him. "I have to hustle
around," she said, "for I am the busy bug, and I have to keep busy. I work
from morning to night to keep my house in order. Now excuse me; I have to
go in and dust the piano," and she was just going to run in the house,
when Uncle Wiggily said:

"Do you happen to know of a place where I can stay to-night?"

"Why, yes," said the busy bug. "Next door is a house where Mr. Groundhog
used to live. But now he is away on his vacation, and I have the keys. I'm
sure he wouldn't mind you staying in there over night. I'll get it in
order for you. Come along, hurry up, no time to lose!"

And before Uncle Wiggily knew what was happening the busy bug had run in,
got the keys, opened the front door of the groundhog's house. Then she
flew in, and she began dusting it. My! what a dust she raised. Uncle
Wiggily had to sneeze, there was so much of it.

And the funny part of it was that the house was already just as neat and
clean as a piece of cocoanut or custard, or maybe even apple pie.

"Don't fuss any more with it," said Uncle Wiggily. "It will do very well
as it is."

"Oh, it must be made cleaner," said the busy bug, and she swept and dusted
until Uncle Wiggily sneezed again. Then the bug dusted a little more, and
at last she said the house was in pretty fair shape and Uncle Wiggily
could sleep there.

Then the busy bug flew back home and she kept busy up to nine o'clock,
making beds and dusting the crumbs off the mantelpiece and picking up
grains of sand off the floor. Then she went to sleep.

Well, along in the