know what it says?" And he sang:

"Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
There are sheep in the meadow and cows in the corn.
Where's Little Boy Blue, who looks after the sheep?
Why he's under the hay stack, fast asleep.

"Only I can't go to sleep under the hay stack, Uncle Wiggily,
because I can't find it. And, oh, dear! I don't know what to do!"
and Little Boy Blue cried harder than ever, so that some of his
tears froze into little round marbles of ice, like hail stones.

"There, there, now!" said Uncle Wiggily, kindly. "Of course you
can't find a hay stack in the winter. They are all covered with
snow."

"Are they?" asked Boy Blue, real surprised like.

"Of course, they are!" cried Uncle Wiggily, in his most jolly voice.
"Besides, you wouldn't want to sleep under a hay stack, even if
there was one here, in the winter. You would catch cold and have the
sniffle-snuffles."

"That's so, I might," Boy Blue said, and he did not cry so hard now.
"But that isn't all, Uncle Wiggily," he went on, nodding at the
rabbit gentleman. "It isn't all my trouble."

"What else is the matter?" asked the bunny uncle.

"It's my horn," spoke the little boy who looked after the cows and
sheep. "I can't make any music tunes on my horn. And I really have
to blow my horn, you know, for it says in the Mother Goose book that
I must. See, I can't blow it a bit." And Boy Blue put his horn to
his lips, puffed out his cheeks and blew as hard as he could, but no
sound came out.

"Let me try," said Uncle Wiggily. The rabbit gentleman took the horn
and he, also, tried to blow. He blew so hard he almost blew off his
tall silk hat, but no sound came from the horn.

"Ah, I see what the trouble is!" cried the bunny uncle with a jolly
laugh, looking down inside the "toot-tooter." "It is so cold that
the tunes are all frozen solid in your horn. But I have a hot apple
pie here in my basket that I was taking to Grandpa Goosey Gander.
I'll hold the cold horn on the hot pie and the tunes will thaw out."

"Oh, have you a pie in there?" asked Little Boy Blue. "Is it the
Christmas pie into which Little Jack Horner put in his thumb and
pulled out a plum?"

"Not quite, but nearly the same," laughed Uncle Wiggily. "Now to
thaw out the frozen horn."

The bunny uncle put Little Boy Blue's horn in the basket with the
hot apple pie. Soon the ice was melted out of the horn, and Uncle
Wiggily could blow on it, and play tunes, and so could Boy Blue.