"Bing!" And the bear was so surprised and kerslostrated that he
cried:

"Wow! Ouch! Oh, lollypops! Oh, sweet spirits of nitre!" And away he
ran through the woods to hold his nose in a soft bank of mud, for he
thought a bee had stung him. And so he didn't bite Uncle Wiggily after
all.

"Well, I guess I can play marbles nearly as well as I used to," laughed
the bunny uncle when Johnnie came back with the tall silk hat.

And when Mr. Longears told the boy squirrel about shooting the bear on
the nose, Johnnie laughed and said he could have done no better himself.

So everything came out all right, you see, and if the butterfly doesn't
try to stand on its head and tickle the June bug under the chin, I'll
tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Billie's top.

STORY XXII

UNCLE WIGGILY AND BILLIE'S TOP

Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice rabbit gentleman, was sitting on the
front porch of his hollow stump bungalow one day, when along came
Billie Bushytail, the little squirrel boy.

"Hello, Billie!" called the bunny gentleman, cheerful-like and happy,
for his rheumatism did not hurt him much that day. "Hello, Billie."

"Hello, Uncle Wiggily," answered the chattery squirrel chap. Then he
came up and sat down on the porch, but he seemed so quiet and
thoughtful that Uncle Wiggily asked:

"Is anything the matter, Billie?"

"No--well--that is, nothing much," said the squirrel boy slowly, "but
I'd like to ask you what you'd buy if you had five cents, Uncle
Wiggily."

"What would I buy if I had five cents, Billie? Well now, let me see.
I think I'd buy two postage stamps and a funny postcard and write some
letters to my friends. What would you buy, Billie?"

"I'd buy a spinning top, Uncle Wiggily," said the little squirrel boy,
very quickly. "Only, you see, I haven't any five cents. You have,
though, haven't you Uncle Wiggily? Eh?"

"Why, yes, Billie, I think so," and the old gentleman rabbit put his
paw in his pocket to make sure.

"This is a funny world," said Billie with a long, sorrowful sigh.
"Here you are with five cents and you don't want a top, and here I am
without five cents and I do want a spinning top. Oh, dear!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Uncle Wiggily in his most jolly fashion. "I
see what you mean, Billie. Now you just come along with me," and Uncle
Wiggily picked up off the porch his red, white and blue striped
barber-pole rheumatism crutch that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of
a