"Oh, I'll do that all right," promised the bunny gentleman. So away
he hopped, over the fields and through the woods, humming to himself
a little song which went something like this:

"I'm feeling happy now and gay,
Why shouldn't I, this lovely day?
'Tis time enough to be quite sad,
When wind and rain make weather bad.
But, even then, one ought to try
To think that soon it will be dry.
So then, no matter what the weather,
Smile, as though tickled by a feather."

Uncle Wiggily felt happier than ever when he had sung this song,
but, as he went along a little further, he came, all at once, to a
very nice house indeed, out of which floated the sound of a sad
voice.

Uncle Wiggily was surprised to hear this, for the house was such a
nice one that it seemed no one ought to be unhappy who lived there.

The house was made of gold and silver, with diamond windows, and the
chimney was made of a red ruby stone, which, as every one knows, is
very expensive. But with all that the sad voice came sailing out of
one of the opened diamond windows, and the voice said:

"Oh, dear! It's gone! I can't find it! I dropped it and it rolled
down a crack in the floor. Now I'll never get it again. Oh, dear!"

"Well, that sounds like some one in trouble," said the bunny uncle.
"I must see if I cannot help them," for Uncle Wiggily helped real
folk, who lived in fine houses, as well as woodland animals, who
lived in hollow trees.

Uncle Wiggily hopped up to the open diamond window of the gold and
silver house, with the red ruby chimney, and, poking his nose
inside, the rabbit gentleman asked:

"Is there some one here in trouble whom I may have the pleasure of
helping?"

"Yes," answered a voice. "I'm here, and I'm surely in trouble."

"Who are you, and what is the trouble, if I may ask?" politely went
on Uncle Wiggily.

"I am the king," was the answer. "This is my palace, but, with all
that, I am in trouble. Come in."

In hopped Uncle Wiggily, and there, surely enough, was the king, but
he was in the kitchen, down on his hands and knees, looking with one
eye through a crack in the floor, which is something kings hardly
ever do.

"It's down there," he said. "And I can't get it. I'm too fat to go
through the crack."

"What's down there?" Uncle Wiggily wanted to know.

"My money," answered the king. "You may have heard about me," and he
recited this little verse:

"The king was in the kitchen,
Counting ou