Luckymobiling

"Luckymobiling" by David Cory is an engaging tale centered around the theme of adventure and the pursuit of fortune. The story follows the protagonist as they navigate the ups and downs of a life filled with twists and unexpected turns, ultimately exploring the intersection of luck, determination, and the impact of choices. With a blend of humor and insight, Cory crafts a narrative that resonates with readers, inviting them to reflect on their own perceptions of luck and success.

• Children

								
    Heigh ho, how the winds blow
      This cool November day.
    The leaves are turning yellow and red
      And the clouds are scurrying overhead
    Like little ships out on the bay.

“That’s a beautiful poem,” thought Uncle Lucky, looking up from his
morning paper as Reddy Comb, the rooster newsboy, strutted away.

Just then Little Jack Rabbit came hopping up the path.

“Let’s make a call on somebody,” suddenly suggested the old gentleman
bunny.

“All right, but not on Grandmother Magpie,” answered the bunny boy,
climbing into the Luckymobile.

“No, indeed,” replied kind Uncle Lucky. “She’s too meddlesome.”

Quickly turning down a road leading away from the Shady Forest, in
which the old lady magpie had her home, they soon came to a little
log hut in a cornfield.

“I wonder who lives there,” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit. “I
never saw that little house before,” and stopping the Luckymobile,
he hopped over to the little log hut to knock on the door. The next
moment it was opened by their friend, the Scarecrow.

“Well, well, well,” he cried. “I’m glad to see you. Come in and sit
down.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” shouted Uncle Lucky to his bunny nephew.

But imagine the old gentleman rabbit’s surprise to find Turkey Tim in
the little log hut.

“What, you here!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky. All of a sudden poor Turkey
Tim began to cry.

“He’s afraid of Thanksgiving,” explained the Scarecrow. “But I’ll
hide him here till Spring.”

“Dear, oh, dear!” gasped astonished Uncle Lucky. “I’m glad you’re so
kind. Dearest me, I’m flustered! I didn’t know you lived here.”

“To be sure I do now that summer time is over,” answered the
Scarecrow. “You don’t think I’d stay out in the cornfield all winter?”

“Yes, what would be the use?” agreed Uncle Lucky. “Besides, you might
catch your death of cold.”

“That’s just it,” answered the Scarecrow.

    “My clothes are very old and worn
       And one of the pockets badly torn.
     The wind would blow through a hole in my coat
       And give me a terrible frog in my throat.”

“Come with us,” invited Uncle Lucky. “It’s a beautiful day for a
ride. Don’t you think so?”

With a happy smile, the Scarecrow took down his old hat from the
wooden peg behind the door and, pinning his coat around him, for the
buttons were all gone, you know, told Turkey Tim he’d be back shortly.

As soon as dear Uncle Lucky had honked the horn three times and a
half, away they went down to the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy a
toothbrush. You see, the Scarecrow had forgotten all about it when
moving into the little log hut in the middle of the cornfield.

“And now where shall we go?” asked Uncle Lucky, as the Scarecrow
once more seated himself in the Luckymobile, for it hadn’t taken him
nearly as long to buy the toothbrush as it had his last Liberty Bond!

“Let’s call on the Tailor Bird. We ought to get measured for our
winter overcoats.” So they turned down a road leading to Birdville, a
pretty little town not far away. Well, by and by, after a mile and a
laugh and a smile, they came to the Tailor Bird’s Shop on the corner
of Twitter Avenue and Chirp Street. There on a little bench in front
of the store, sat the Tailor Bird himself, although it was the first
of November.

No sooner did this in-dus-tri-ous bird see the two little rabbits in
the Luckymobile than he began to sing:

    “Stitch, stitch, stitch away,
       I’m busy sewing all the day
     I hardly have a chance to sing.
       My needle uses up the string
     So fast I haven’t time to play.
       Why, I can’t even stop to say,
     ‘Good Morning, it’s a pleasant day!’”

And the Tailor Bird made his needle go so fast that Uncle Lucky
couldn’t tell on whose overcoat the old bird was sewing buttons.

“I guess I’ll get along with my old one,” said the old gentleman
rabbit, and, waving good-by to the Tailor Bird, he soon reached
Cottontail Square, where they found a big crowd gathered around the
statues of Uncle Sam and Aunt Columbia.

“What’s all this about?” asked the old gentleman, curiously.

“I’ll enquire,” answered the Scarecrow, standing up on the rear seat.
Just then a bunny man, carrying in his arms a little boy rabbit,
pushed his way out.

“Dear, dear! is he hurt?” anxiously asked dear, kind Uncle Lucky.

“No, no!” shouted back the bunny man. “It’s Tinkle Timmy, the fairy
bunny child. He’s only frightened. I’m taking him back to the Fairy
Glen.”

“You have a kind heart,” said Uncle Lucky. “Come around to the bank
to-morrow. Maybe we need a porter.”

Then away drove the old gentleman bunny. Pretty soon they came to the
Farmyard.

“Bow, wow!” barked Old Sic’em, the farmer’s dog.

“Come here, I want to whisper in your ear,” said the old gentleman
rabbit, leaning out of the Luckymobile.

    “Look out for Danny Fox to-night,
     He’s coming here when the moon is bright
     To steal a chicken for a stew,
     So catch him by his curlicue,”

he whispered to the old watch-dog as he stood on his tip toes.

“Where is his curlicue?” asked Old Sic’em.

“Oh, I mean his bushy tail,” laughed Uncle Lucky, “but as tail
doesn’t always rime in poetry I said “cue” instead.”

“All right,” answered Old Sic’em. “I’ll be on the lookout,” and with
a wag of his curlicue,—beg pardon, I mean his long thin tail, he said
good-by. Then away went the Luckymobile so fast that it nearly ran
over a man who mended old tin pails, wash boilers and maybe other
things.

“Helloa, there!” shouted Uncle Lucky, “can you mend a hole in my
woolen sock?”

“Don’t you poke fun at me,” answered the tin man with a dreadful
angry look, “rabbits don’t wear stockings!” But when Uncle Lucky
handed him a ten carrot gold piece the tin man began to smile.

Pretty soon the old gentleman bunny spied a great tremendous pumpkin
in a cornfield.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky to the Luckymobile, which stopped just
like that, only maybe a little quicker. “Let’s take the pumpkin home
with us.” But, dear me! how disappointed he was after hopping over
the fence. The pumpkin was so heavy that dear Uncle Lucky couldn’t
lift it to save his whiskers. Neither could Little Jack Rabbit.

“What shall we do?” asked the little bunny.

All of a sudden the Old Scarecrow, who had been sound asleep all this
time, woke up.

“Let me help you,” he said and, jumping out, lifted the pumpkin up in
his arms into the Luckymobile without even scratching the shell.

As soon as the Scarecrow was seated, away they went and pretty soon,
not so very far, nor so very long, they came to a cross road. Right
there stood a big sign post on which was written:

    “To Rabbitville, 1 mile
     To Lettuce Hills, 2 miles
     To Turnip City, 3 miles.”

“Gracious me!” cried Little Jack Rabbit. “I don’t know where I’d
rather go.”

“I’ll tell you,” said Professor Crow, just then flying by with his
little Wisdom Book in his left claw.

								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes