Uncle Lucky’s Dream

"Uncle Lucky’s Dream" by David Cory is a whimsical children's tale that follows the adventures of a young character who experiences a magical dream guided by their quirky Uncle Lucky. Through vibrant storytelling and imaginative scenarios, the narrative explores themes of curiosity, the power of dreams, and the importance of family connections. As the protagonist navigates the enchanting dream world, they learn valuable life lessons and discover the joy of embracing creativity and wonder. The book is filled with charming illustrations that enhance the whimsical atmosphere, making it a delightful read for children and families alike.

• Children

								
    Oh, what shall I sing this lovely spring
    When all the sky’s aglow
    With the sun’s gold tint and the pure white glint
    Of clouds like drifts of snow.

“Well, well, well,” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky with a sigh, laying
down his book, “that is a beautiful poem.” Pushing his spectacles
back on his forehead, he was just about to sigh again when the
telephone rang, One, two, three! Jingle, jingle, jingle!

“Who’s that, I wonder?” he asked himself, taking up the receiver.

“Hello, hello! Who’s calling me?

“This is Rabbitville, one, two, three.”

“Mr. Grizzly Bear is talking,” answered a deep, growly voice.

“Well, I don’t care if he stops,” replied brave Uncle Lucky, “I don’t
want to speak to him.”

“But he wants to talk to you!” answered the deep, growly voice.

“Dear Little Miss Mousie,” sighed Uncle Lucky, “why do disagreeable
people call me on the ’phone? Why don’t they call up the Policeman
Dog? Please lock the kitchen door.” And the poor old gentleman
rabbit gave a great big sigh and, hanging up the receiver, hopped
quickly around the house to lock every window, pulling down the
shades and then stuffing up the fireplace with sofa cushions.

“Now I guess nobody’ll get in,” he said, seating himself by the
pianola. All of a sudden it began to play;

    “Oh, the Grizzly Bear is a dreadful beast,
     His claws are sharp and long,
     And he gives a tug and then a hug
     While he sings a grizzly song;

    “‘Oh, I’m the beast with the terrible hug,
     G-r-r-r, g-r-r-r-r, G-R-R-R-R!
     I can break a stone and crack a bone
     And crumple a cracker jar!’”

“Goodness me!” shouted Uncle Lucky, hopping up. “It’s bad enough
to have a Grizzly Bear call you on the ’phone, but to listen to
a Grizzly Bear song on the pianola is too, too much,” and the
dis-tract-ed old gentleman rabbit hopped upstairs to his bedroom and
looked out of the window.

“Tooty fruiti!” shouted Old Barney Owl, just like that, so
frightening poor Uncle Lucky that he closed the window with a bang
and hopped into bed. But, dear me! again. No sooner had he pulled the
coverlet up to his chin and tucked his long gray whiskers in, than a
dreadful knocking shook the door and rattled the carpet tacks in the
floor!

“Goodness gracious meebus!” whispered the old gentleman rabbit under
his breath and under the crazyquilt over his head as he cuddled down
tight in his old wooden bed.

Again some one knocked on the door so hard that the doorknob came off
and fell in the yard.

“Who can that be? What shall I do? I’m afraid to open the door and
I’m afraid not to. Which is the worst to do, for whatever I do, it
will be that, all right, and all wrong!”

    “Make believe there’s no one home,
     Stay in bed and do not roam
     On your tiptoe ’round the house;
     Keep as quiet as a mouse,”

whispered a little voice.

“Who gives me such good advice?” asked the old gentleman rabbit in a
trembly whisper.

“Little Miss Mousie,” replied the tiny voice. “I crept out of my
house and up the stairs to tell you to make believe you’re not at
home.”

“You’re a good little friend,” answered Uncle Lucky.

“You’re a good big friend,” laughed Little Miss Mousie, only very
low, of course. “You let me stay all winter in the woodbox by the
warm stove. You never charge me any rent and never let me spend a
cent, you give me lollypops to eat and satin slippers for my feet.”

“Do I really? I forgot all about the slippers, I declare,” cried the
old gentleman rabbit, scratching his left hind ear with his right
hind foot. “Maybe I’m growing old and full of forgetfulness,” and he
sighed twice, and maybe three times more.

Just then the knocking came again, and this time louder than the last
time, and twice as loud as the first.

“Keep your temper,” whispered the little mouse.

“I guess that’s the only thing I’ve got left,” cried poor Uncle
Lucky. “I’ve lost my wits—I declare, I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t do anything,” advised the little mouse, “that’s what you
agreed to do just a minute ago.”

But goodness me! as she finished speaking there arose a dreadful
commotion in the backyard of Uncle Lucky’s little white house. Dear
me, it was tornadeous and hurricaneous.

Please excuse me a moment. There’s so much noise I can’t even think
what might happen if the Policeman Dog doesn’t arrive pretty soon and
swing his club three or four times.

There it goes! Yes, sir, I thought I’d hear it soon, if not before.
Yes, it’s the Policeman Dog’s whistle.

Out of his nice warm bed jumped Uncle Lucky and over to the window.
The moonlight shone in like an automobile lamp, almost blinding
Little Miss Mousie by the door. For a moment it made the dear old
gentleman rabbit wink his eyes and blink his nose.

“Goodness gracious meebus! What is that big black shadow under the
trees?” he whispered.

Then all of a sudden, the whistle sounded again, only this time way
off down the road.

“What is the matter?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, his legs
trembling so that his pajamas wrinkled at the knees. “What is the
matter, and what is that dark shadow under the trees, and why is the
Policeman Dog whistling down the road? Why doesn’t he whistle under
my window and make me feel comfortable?”

But no one answered him. Not even Little Miss Mousie, for she had
hopped down to the kitchen to peek out under the door. Pretty soon
the sound of the whistle came again, this time a little bit louder.
After another minute or two, it sounded again, only fainter.

“Dear, dear me, I’m so sorry for myself,” cried the poor old
gentleman rabbit. “All this mystery is turning my hair white. What
shall I do?”

“I’ve caught him! I’ve caught him!” all of a sudden a voice shouted,
and the next minute into the yard ran the Policeman Dog with Danny
Fox by the collar.

“Here’s the robber who knocked on your front door,” cried the noble
police dog.

“Put him in jail for a century!” shouted Uncle Lucky from his bedroom
window. “I want my great, great, great, great grandchildren never to
be annoyed by this old robber!”

“I’ll speak to the Judge about it,” answered the faithful Policeman
Dog, as he drove away with Danny Fox in the patrol wagon.

“Oh, I’m so relieved,” sighed the old gentleman rabbit, “I’ll now go
back to bed and sleep till the little green rooster toots his horn at
half past three to-morrow morn,” and, hopping into his pink pajamas,
he pulled the crazy quilt up to his chin and tucked his whiskers
snugly in.

Well, sir, and well, m’am. No sooner was the old gentleman rabbit
sound asleep than the Dream Fairy looked in at the window.

“I must give Uncle Lucky a pretty dream,” and softly flying in, she
lighted on the foot of the bed. Taking from her little Vanity Bag a
blue rose she waved it to and fro, back and forth and up and down,
till Uncle Lucky began to dream.

And what a lovely dream! Just wait till I tell it to you, dear boys

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