Valentines

"Valentines" by David Cory is a charming children's book that captures the spirit of love and friendship celebrated during Valentine's Day. Through whimsical illustrations and delightful stories, the book explores the joy of giving and receiving valentines, emphasizing themes of kindness, affection, and the simple pleasures of showing appreciation for those we care about. It's a sweet and heartwarming read that encourages young readers to express their feelings and make meaningful connections with others.

• Children

								
    “The rose is red, the violet blue.
       Oh, how I love a rabbit stew,
     I love it most as well as you,”

wrote sly Old Danny Fox on the Valentine he sent to the big fat hen
at the Farmyard. She was so pleased the next morning, thinking that
Cocky Doodle had sent it, that she called him over to her nest to
show him the nice white egg she had laid on St. Valentine’s Day. Of
course he didn’t know she thought he had sent the valentine, so off
he went to the Three-in-One Cent Store to buy her one, all covered
with lace and gold hearts.

As he passed Uncle Lucky’s white house on the corner of Lettuce
Avenue and Carrot Street he heard the old gentleman rabbit calling
from the window to the Yellow Dog Tramp, who took care of the
Luckymobile in the winter time:

    “Come here, you good old yellow dog,
       And see my valentine.
     It makes me feel quite young again
       Although I’m fifty-nine.”

“Who sent it?” asked the Yellow Dog Tramp.

“Goodness gracious meebus! How do I know?” answered excited Uncle
Lucky. “You never know who sends a valentine.”

All of a sudden the telephone bell rang.

“Hello, who’s this?” asked the old gentleman rabbit.

“It’s me, Little Jack Rabbit. Did you get your valentine?”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit, and the next minute he
shouted through the window: “Little Jack Rabbit sent it.”

    “I wish I were back in old Vermont,
       Safe from worry and harm,
     But it’s many a day since I went away
       From my home on the dear old farm,”

answered the Yellow Dog Tramp sadly, wiping his eyes as he trotted
into the garage to polish the Luckymobile.

Pretty soon dear Uncle Lucky hopped out of the front door and
down the road to Rabbitville, where he bought a valentine at the
Three-in-One Cent Store for his little rabbit nephew. Then quickly
hopping over to the Old Bramble Patch, for it was getting late and
Mr. Merry Sun would soon be in bed in the purple west, the dear old
gentleman rabbit tip-toed up to the front door of the little bunny’s
house and dropped the valentine on the mat. Then, ringing the bell
three times and a half, he quickly hid behind the rain barrel.

“Hurrah! Somebody’s sent me a valentine,” shouted Little Jack
Rabbit, looking all around to see who had left it. But no one was in
sight, except Charlie Chickadee picking dried berries off a bush.

“Did you leave this valentine?” asked the little bunny.

“No,” chuckled Charlie Chickadee, “but I know who did,” cocking his
head on one side and winking his eye nearest the rain barrel.

“Who did it, then?” asked Little Jack Rabbit.

    “If I should tell you I much fear
       That Mr. Lefthindfoot would hear
     And hop around the big rain barrel
       To end my pretty little carol,”

answered Charlie Chickadee. And away flew that naughty little bird,
and none too soon, to dodge a snow ball that Uncle Lucky threw at him
from behind the rain barrel. But it didn’t hit him, oh, my no! But it
hit Old Danny Fox who was peeping through the brambles. Yes, siree,
that’s what it did!

“Ha, ha! I’m glad Charlie Chickadee made me angry,” chuckled dear
Uncle Lucky, and the next moment he laughed so hard that one of the
pearl buttons on his pink waistcoat flew off and hit the end of the
old fox’s tail as he hurried away. Wasn’t that wonderful? Well, I
just guess it was. But perhaps you don’t know that Uncle Lucky was a
good shot and had once pitched on the Rabbitville baseball team.

“I’m glad to be home in time for lunch,” said the old gentleman
rabbit, as he opened his kitchen door. “I’m as hungry as two bears
and three wildcats.”

    “Home again, home again,
       Where it’s nice and warm.
     Home’s the nicest place to be
       When it’s going to storm.
     Let the lightning flash and dart,
       Let the thunder roar;
     What care we when safe at home
       And bolted is the door?”

sang his tiny mouse housekeeper.

“You are right, Little Miss Mousie,” answered dear Uncle Lucky, “but
how do you know it’s going to rain?”

“Because,” answered the little mouse, “I heard Willie Wind say just
now to the Weathercock: ‘I’m going to bring up a big black rain
cloud, so put on your mackintosh and rubbers.’”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit. “If the Weathercock puts
on a mackintosh I’ll put on my bathing suit,” and funny old Uncle
Lucky hopped into the sitting room to read the Bunnyville Bugle
while Little Miss Mousie set the table.

“Let me in,” all of a sudden cried a little voice at the window pane.

When the old gentleman rabbit opened the window who do you suppose
was outside? Why, a little white pigeon—one of Uncle Lucky’s pigeons,
you know.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” she whispered, perching herself on
the window sill.

“What is it?” asked the old gentleman rabbit, cocking up both his
long ears and wiggling his nose sideways.

“I have five little pigeons in the barn,” she answered, and with a
flutter of wings she flew back to her little birds.

No sooner had Uncle Lucky closed the window than some one knocked on
the front door.

“Be careful,” whispered Mrs. Swallow from her tiny nest as Uncle
Lucky hopped out on the front porch.

The tiny sparrow’s bright eyes had spied Old Man Weasel under the
woodpile, but I guess the dear old gentleman rabbit didn’t hear her
for, without looking about, he shook hands with the Old Brown Horse.

“How are all the folks?” asked Uncle Lucky kindly. “Anybody got the
measles?”

“Nope, but the automobile has a flat tire,” answered the friendly old
horse.

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old gentleman rabbit. “You should worry!”

“I must get back before supper,” answered the Old Brown Horse. “Maybe
I’ll be hitched up to the buggy. I come in very handy when something
breaks down.

    “I used to pull the children
       In the buggy to the town,
     And over hill and thru the dale
       My feet went up and down.

     As o’er the road I trotted off
       The children sang with joy,
     But that was in the Long Ago
       When I was but a boy.

     It’s seldom now I take them out
     Or hear their merry, happy shout!”

“Don’t feel sad,” begged dear Uncle Lucky, “your master is kind and
lets you feed on the meadow grass. You don’t have to pull a heavy
cart like many an old horse.”

“That’s true,” replied the Old Brown Horse, a smile spreading over
his face. “Maybe I’m a little lonely for the children. They were so
bright and happy.”

But, oh, dear me! and oh, dear you! just then Old Man Weasel ran out
from under the woodpile.

“Help, help!” shouted the old gentleman bunny, “help, help, give me a
club!”

“I’ll look out for you,” answered the Old Brown Horse. Kicking out
his left hind leg, he hit Old Man Weasel such a whack that the old
sneak flew over the white picket fence like a baseball from the bat
of Babe Ruth.

“That’s a home run for him,” laughed the Old Brown Horse, watching

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