g
closer, however, and Billie, looking back, said:

"Oh, I know what let's do, Uncle Wiggily. Let's take the path that
leads over the duck pond ocean. That's shorter, and we can get to your
bungalow before the fox can catch us. He won't dare come across the
bridge over the duck pond, for Old Dog Percival will come out and bite
him if he does."

"Very well," said Uncle Wiggily, "over the bridge we will go."

But alas! Also sorrowfulness and sadness! When the three friends got
to the bridge it wasn't there. The wind had blown the bridge down, and
there was no way of getting across the duck pond ocean, for neither
Uncle Wiggily nor the squirrel boys could swim very well.

"Oh, what are we going to do?" cried Billie, sadly.

"We must get across somehow!" chattered Johnnie, "for here comes the
fox!"

And, surely enough the fox was coming, having by this time gotten all
the water out of his eyes, so he could see very well.

"Oh, if we only had a boat!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, looking along the
shore of the pond, but there was no boat to be seen.

Nearer and nearer came the fox! Uncle Wiggily and the squirrel boys
were just going to jump in the water, whether or not they could swim,
when, all at once, a big white birch tree on the edge of the woods near
the pond, said:

"Listen, Uncle Wiggily and I will save you. Strip off some of my bark.
It will not hurt me, and you can make a little canoe boat of it, as the
Indians used to do. Then, in the birch bark boat you can sail across
the water and the fox can't get you."

"Good! Thank you!" cried the bunny uncle. With their sharp teeth he,
Billie and Johnnie peeled off long strips of birch bark. They quickly
bent them in the shape of a boat and sewed up the ends with long thorns
for needles and ribbon grass for thread.

"Quick! Into the birch bark boat!" cried Uncle Wiggily, and they all
jumped in, just as the fox came along. Billie and Johnnie held up
their bushy tails, and Uncle Wiggily held up his tall silk hat for
sails, and soon they were safe on the other shore and the fox, not
being able to swim, could not get them.

So that's how the birch tree of the woods saved the bunny uncle and the
squirrels, for which, I am very glad, as I want to write more stories
about them. And if the gold fish doesn't tickle the wax doll's nose
with his tail when she looks in the tank to see what he has for
breakfast, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the bu