Now just as I finished the last story Little Jack Rabbit handed Squirrel Nutcracker and Chatterbox each a lovely lemon lollypop. I would have told you that before, only I had no more room, so I had to wait. But it’s a good thing the little Squirrels didn’t have to wait, isn’t it?

Well, after the lemon lollypops were all gone, the little bunny went upon his way, hipperty hop, lipperty lop, until he saw Jimmy Jay on the Old Rail Fence.

Now you know that Jimmy Jay is a very mischievous little bird. Yes, sir, he certainly loves to tease. Grandmother Magpie is mischievous, too, but she’s no worse than little Jimmy Jay. She does harm by meddling and Jimmy Jay by teasing.

Yes, it certainly is too bad that such a pretty bird as Jimmy Jay should cause so much trouble. Why, his coat’s as blue as the summer sky when Mr. Merry Sun is shining at his best.

“Hip, hip, hurray,
I’m Jimmy Jay,
And I’m proud of my coat of blue.
Go on your way,
I’m Jimmy Jay,
I’ve no time to talk to you.”

“You’re too fond of yourself, Jimmy Jay,” said Little Jack Rabbit, and he wiggled his pink nose till the little Jay bird almost fell off the rail. You see, Little Jack Rabbit had the habit of wiggling his nose so fast that it made everybody dizzy to look at it.

“Mother says it’s not the clothes
You wear that make you good;
It’s having a contented mind
And doing what you should.”

Then away hopped the little rabbit, leaving Jimmy Jay to think it over. Perhaps it kept that mischievous little Jay Bird from looking at himself in the Bubbling Brook. Or maybe it was because it was all frozen over with a thick coat of ice.

Well, anyway, the little rabbit hopped along for maybe a mile or maybe less, until he came to a little hole in snow, when, all of a sudden, out popped Timmy Meadowmouse. You see in the winter time, Timmy Meadowmouse makes little tunnels under the snow, and every once in a while, here and there, he climbs up a stiff stalk of grass and pokes out his head to look around. And wasn’t he glad to see the little rabbit. Well, I just guess he was. But if he had seen Danny Fox instead he wouldn’t have been so pleased. No sireemam. And in the next story, if the little meadowmouse doesn’t play hide-and-seek in the snow till that sly old fox comes around, I’ll tell you what happened after this.

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