g his tall silk hat down off the china closet, getting
ready to go for a walk in the woods one morning.

"Why, I'm feeling pretty fine, Nurse Jane," answered the bunny uncle.
"Since I ran home to get away from the fox, after he turned a
peppersault from pulling too strong to get up the sassafras root, I
feel much better, thank you."

"Good!" cried Nurse Jane. "Then perhaps you would not mind going to
the store for me."

"Certainly not," spoke Uncle Wiggily. "What do you wish?"

"A loaf of bread," replied Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, "also a box of matches and
some sugar and crackers. But don't forget the matches whatever you
do."

"I won't," promised the bunny uncle, and soon he was hopping along
through the woods wondering what sort of an adventure he would have
this day.

As he was going along keeping a sharp look-out for the bad fox, or the
skillery-scalery alligator with the double jointed tail. Uncle Wiggily
heard a voice saying:

"Oh, dear! I'll never be able to get out from under the stone and grow
tall as I ought. I've pushed and pushed on it, but I can't raise it.
Oh, dear; what a heavy stone!"

"Ha! Some one under a stone!" said Uncle Wiggily to himself. "That
certainly is bad trouble. I wonder if I cannot help?"

The bunny uncle looked all around and down on the ground he saw a flat
stone. Underneath it something green and brown was peeping out.

"Was that you who called?" asked Mr. Longears.

"It was," came the answer. "I am a Jack-in-the-Pulpit plant, you see,
and I started to grow up, as all plants and flowers do when summer
comes. But when I had raised my head out of the earth I found a big
stone over me, and now I can grow no more. I've pushed and pushed
until my back aches, and I can't lift the stone."

"I'll do it for you," said Uncle Wiggily kindly, and he did, taking it
off the Pulpit-Jack.

Then the Jack began growing up, and he had been held down so long that
he grew quite quickly, so that even while Uncle Wiggily was watching,
the Jack and his pulpit were almost regular size.

A Jack-in-the-Pulpit, you know, is a queer flower that grows in our
woods. Sometimes it is called an Indian turnip, but don't eat it, for
it is very biting. The Jack is a tall green chap, who stands in the
middle of his pulpit, which is like a little pitcher, with a curved top
to it. A pulpit, you know, is where some one preaches on Sunday.

"Thank you very much for lifting the stone off me so I coul