Uncle Lucky Page #2

"Uncle Lucky" by David Cory is a charming children's book that follows the adventures of a whimsical character known as Uncle Lucky, who embodies good fortune and fun. Through a series of delightful escapades, Uncle Lucky teaches important life lessons about friendship, kindness, and the joy of embracing life's unpredictability. With its engaging narrative and playful illustrations, the story captures the imagination of young readers, encouraging them to believe in the magic of luck and the value of nurturing positive relationships.

• Children

								


and she went on to explain how dear generous Uncle Lucky allowed her
to use his front porch free of charge all through the year.

By and by Little Miss Mousie came to the front door to say that
luncheon was ready.

“Dearest me!” exclaimed Uncle Lucky, “did I fall asleep?” and jumping
out of the hammock, he winked at little Mrs. Sparrow. Then calling to
Little Jack Rabbit, he hopped through the front hall, where the Old
Grandfather Clock went tick, tickie, tock all the day long.

    “Oh, all the day long
      Old Grandfather Clock
     Went tickie, tick, tickie,
      Tick, tickie, tock.

     But Little Miss Mousie,
      She wasn’t afraid,
     As she polished the window
      And pulled down the shade.

     She loved the Old Grandfather
      Tick, tockey Clock,
     Why, she sang to herself
      As it went tickie, tock!

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed the old gentleman rabbit,
hanging his old wedding stovepipe hat on the hat-stand, “I’m as
hungry as three bears!”

“So am I,” laughed the little rabbit, “I could eat a bag of animal
crackers!”

“Dearest me! Somebody’s knocking,” exclaimed the old gentleman
rabbit, as Little Miss Mousie brought in the lollypop stew. “I wonder
if it’s Old Man Trouble?”

“No, it isn’t,” answered Little Miss Mousie, peeking through the
keyhole. “It’s Granddaddy Bullfrog.”

“Ask him in! Don’t keep him waiting!” shouted dear hospitable Uncle
Lucky.

“You’re just in time for lunch,” he added, as the old gentleman frog
hopped into the kitchen.

Pushing up a chair, Little Miss Mousie made an extra place for him
at the neat little table. But, oh, dear me! she forgot to give him a
napkin, and because the old gentleman frog was too polite to ask for
one while eating a raspberry tart, one of the raspberries rolled down
his white waistcoat!

“Goodness gracious meebus!” exclaimed dear Uncle Lucky, suddenly
seeing the big red stain, “were you signing checks with red ink this
morning?”

But before the embarrassed old frog could answer kind Little Miss
Mousie washed off the spot with a gasolene cloth.

After the meal was over Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy Bullfrog hopped
out on the front porch to play pinochle and the little rabbit went
out to talk to the Old Red Rooster, who was still polishing his spurs
in the Old Red Barn.

By and by the little bunny grew restless and, thinking he had better
be going, he hopped around to the kitchen to say good-by to Little
Miss Mousie. After she had filled his pockets with sweet cookies, he
stopped a moment at the front porch, but Uncle Lucky and Granddaddy
Bullfrog were so busy with their game that they never noticed him.

“I’ll say good-by for you,” twittered little Mrs. Sparrow, knowing
that the little bunny didn’t want dear Uncle Lucky to wonder what had
become of him.

    “Here comes a little rabbit bunny,
      His knapsack full of ready money
     Lettuce bills and carrot cents,
      And maybe a million turnip pence,”

sang Bobbie Redvest from the Old Rail Fence.

“Not quite so many,” answered the little rabbit, “but maybe some day
I’ll have enough to buy mother a jade necklace.”

    “Look out! Look out for Danny Fox!
      He’s sneaking round in his tiptoe socks!
     If he should see you first, look out!
      You won’t have time to even shout!”

whispered Billy Breeze to all the little people of the Shady Forest
and the Sunny Meadow. He didn’t exactly whisper it, you know. He did
it in a better way, a way by which no one heard a word. He carried
the smell of the wicked old fox to the nose of every little animal.
Yes, sir, that’s how Billy Breeze whispers bad news!

“I’m glad I’m safe at home,” thought the little bunny, as he opened
the little gate in the white picket fence around the dear Old Bramble
Patch.

“Dear, oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Grouse, hiding her brood under her
wings amid the brown underbrush.

“Goodness gracious!” cackled little Henny Jenny, “I’m glad Old
Sic’em, the farmer’s dog, is around. I hope the Farmer’s Boy won’t
whistle to him.”

“Heigh, ho!” yawned Mrs. Cow, with a shake of her head, making the
little bell on her collar ting-a-ling. “So old Danny Fox is out
hunting!”

Then the motherly lady cow walked over to rub her nose against the
silky ear of her long-legged little calf. “But you needn’t be afraid
of that old robber. He eats only little defenseless bunnies and
chickens. He’s no real hunter. Oh, my, no! He’s only a sneak thief.”

“What’s that you’re saying about me?” asked a voice, all of a sudden,
quick as a lightning bug or a tornado.

There stood Danny Fox himself, close by the Old Rail Fence.

“Moo-oo! Moo-oo!” answered Mrs. Cow, lowering her head till her horns
pointed right at his head.

“S-s-s-h!” whispered the sly old robber, “maybe the farmer will think
you’re calling him!”

“I don’t care if he does,” answered Mrs. Cow, giving her head a toss,
but quickly lowering it to bring the tips of her horns on a level
with Danny Fox’s eyes. “Don’t you bother me, you old rascal.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Danny Fox, carefully peering here and there,
however, for fear some one might be coming by, “I’m not afraid of
you. Besides, you have a thimble on each of your horns.”

They weren’t real thimbles, you know, but the little brass caps
which the Farmer had fastened on. Danny Fox thought they were
thimbles because Mrs. Fox used a thimble when she mended Bushytail’s
coat or Slyboot’s trousers.

“I don’t care what you say, you old robber,” answered Mrs. Cow with
a loud moo-oo! walking up to the fence as brave as a fireman or a
policeman. “Get out, or I’ll toss you over the Bubbling Brook, or
maybe farther!”

“Now, don’t get disagreeable,” whined the old fox, “I’m going along.
Maybe I’ll find a nice little rabbit for supper.”

But he won’t catch Little Jack Rabbit. No, indeed! That dear little
bunny boy is safe in the Old Bramble Patch.
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