a place where a June bug was sitting on the edge
of a stone wall, buzzing his wings.

"Let's ask him where we can find our fortunes," said Uncle Wiggily. So
they asked the June bug.

"Well," replied the buzzing creature, "I am not sure, but a little way
from here are two roads. One or the other might bring you to your fortune.
One goes to the right, the other to the left hand."

"We will take the left hand road," said Uncle Wiggily. "We will go down
that for some distance, and if we do not find a pot of gold, or some ice
cream cones at the end of it, we will come back, and try the other road."

So Uncle Wiggily and Grandfather Goosey Gander went down the left road. On
and on they went, walking in the dust when there was any dust, and in the
mud when there was any mud. But they didn't find any gold.

"Oh, let's go back and try the other road," said the rabbit gentleman
after a bit. "Perhaps that will be better."

So back they went, stopping on the way to look at a big apple tree, to see
if there were any ripe apples on it. But there was none, so they didn't
eat any. And I hope you children do the same this summer. Never eat green
apples, never, never, never! Wait until they are ripe.

Well, by and by, after a while, not so very long, Uncle Wiggily, who was
hopping along on his crutch, suddenly exclaimed:

"Oh, I've lost my valise! What shall I do? I can't go on without it, for
it has our lunch in it."

"I think you left it under the green-apple tree," said the duck. "You had
better go back for it, and I will wait here in the shade," for Grandpa
Goosey knew the rabbit could hop faster than he could waddle.

Back Uncle Wiggily started, and, surely enough, he found his valise under
the apple tree, where he had forgotten it. He picked it up, and was
walking along with it back to where Grandfather Goosey Gander was waiting
for him when, all of a sudden, out from behind a stump came Jennie
Chipmunk, with a basket of popcorn balls.

"Oh, Uncle Wiggily!" she exclaimed. "Don't you want to buy some popcorn
balls? Our church is having a little fair, and we are all trying to earn
some money. I am selling popcorn, to help the little heathen children buy
red-colored handkerchiefs."

"Of course, I'll take some," said the old gentleman rabbit, "popcorn
balls, I mean--not children, or hankerchiefs," he said quickly. So he
bought a pink one, and a white one, and a chocolate colored one, popcorn
balls you know--not children--a