ays having so
many accidents. Maybe I had better get a chauffeur." "You won't need
any chauffeur after I'm done with you," said a deep growly voice, and
out from behind a clump of bushes jumped a wicked wildcat and bit one
of the front tires, she was so hungry.

And what do you suppose happened then? Why the tire burst with such a
loud noise, just like a gun, you know, that the wildcat was frightened
nearly to death and she turned around and ran away so fast that she
got home an hour too early for supper.

STORY XI.

BILL BUNNY AND THE BIG BEAR.

Near the Friendly Forest Pool
Is the Woodland Singing School.
Little Squirrel Bushy Tail
Sings the Do, Ray, Mee, Fa scale.
Uncle Bullfrog sings "Ker-chunk"
From his floating elm tree trunk.
And a big good-natured bear
Sings an old familiar air.

"It's time for your singing lesson," said Mrs. Bunny to her little
rabbit. So Billy Bunny started off, hoppity hop, down the Friendly
Forest trail, and by and by he reached the Pool where all the pupils
came to take their singing lessons.

Mr. Grasshopper was there with his fiddle and the tree toad with his
drum, and the lark with her flute and little Jenny Wren with her
piano. And what do you suppose Billy Bunny had tucked away in his
knapsack? Why, Uncle Lucky's automobile horn.

You see, the kind old gentleman rabbit was making a visit at the Old
Brier Patch where he had taken his automobile after that dreadful
wildcat had bitten the front tire, and this is how Billy Bunny came to
get the horn.

Well, sir, after the music started, he pulled out his horn and gave a
tre-men-dous honk on it, and everybody thought an automobile was going
to run over him.

Some jumped into the Pool and some ran up the trees, and, oh, dear me!
everybody got all out of tune, and the bear lost the air and couldn't
find it again!

And just then who should come along but a peddler with a pack of tin
cans, rattling away on his back, and of course he made more noise than
all the singing school put together.

And when the big bear saw him he was so angry that he jumped from
behind a tree and said, "Boo!"

"Do you want to buy a tin plate?" asked the peddler, trying hard not
to be frightened, "or would rather have a dishpan?"

"Don't want either," said the bear with a terrible growl.

"Perhaps you'd like a nutmeg grater," said the poor old peddler, and
he was so frightened by this time that his