If you haven’t guessed who threw the stone at Old Uncle Bullfrog in the last story, I’ll tell you right now. It was that bad Miller’s Boy.

Yes, siree. There he stood, not very far away, and he was just going to throw another, when the old gentleman frog thought it was time to take a dive and the little rabbit thought it was time to take a hop, and Tommy Turtle to take a swim and soon Uncle Bullfrog was deep down on the muddy bottom where he ate his breakfast without a thought of the Miller’s Boy.

Well, after a few short hops Billy Bunny found himself in the Friendly Forest close to Timmy Chipmunk’s little store, where he sold candy carrots and lettuce sandwiches and lemon soda.

So the little rabbit opened his knapsack and took out a handful of carrot pennies and bought a lovely apple pie, which the little chipmunk’s mother had baked that very morning. And as soon as the pie was all gone Billy Bunny hopped away and by and by he came to the cave where the Big Brown Bear sold honey.

Now Mr. Bear was very cross this particular morning, for the day before while he was looking over a bees’ nest some of the bees had been very rude and had stung him on the nose.

And now it was all swollen up so that he couldn’t find a pocket handkerchief big enough to tickle it with, and so of course he was very miserable.

“I don’t feel at all sociable,” which means friendly, you know, he said to the little rabbit. “So you had better be on your way and leave a crusty old bear to himself.” But do you think Billy Bunny did this? No siree, and a no sireemam.

He just opened his knapsack and took out some lettuce cold cream and rubbed it gently over the bear’s nose and pretty soon it felt so well that Mr. Bear said, “Come with me, Billy Bunny, and we’ll go down to the Three-and-one-cent store to buy a handkerchief, for now that my nose is well again, I don’t care if I spend all my money to buy a handkerchief.”

So off they started, and when they reached the store the bear forgot all about his nose and bought a little blue tin whistle instead. Wasn’t that fine, for it’s lots more fun to blow on a whistle than on a handkerchief, don’t you think so?

“Well, now that you are happy again,” said the little rabbit, “I’ll go my way, for I’m seeking adventures, you know, and I want to see the wide, wide world so as to grow up a learned rabbit,” and he hopped off down the Friendly Forest trail.

And in the next story, if the ink-well on my desk doesn’t stub my quill pen when I sign my name to this story, I’ll tell you more about little Billy Bunny.

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