have not had to travel far
before finding my fortune. I wonder if there is a cure for rheumatism in
that stump, too?" So he asked about it.

"Of course, your rheumatism can be cured in here," came the quick answer.
"In fact, I guarantee to cure any disease--measles, chicken-pox, mumps and
even toothache. So if you have any friends you want cured send them to
me."

"I wish I could find out who you were," spoke the rabbit. "I seem to know
your voice, but I can't think of your name."

"Oh, you'll know me as soon as you see me," said the voice. "Just hop
down inside this hollow stump, and your fortune is as good as made, and
your rheumatism will soon be gone. Hop right down."

Well, Uncle Wiggily didn't like the looks of the black hole down inside
the stump, and he peered into it to see what he could see, but it was so
black that all he could make out was something like a lump of coal.

"Well, Dr. Possum said I needed to have a change of scene, and some
adventures," said the rabbit, "so I guess I'll chance it. I'll go down,
and perhaps I may find my fortune."

Then, carefully holding his crutch and his satchel, Uncle Wiggily hopped
down inside the stump. He felt something soft, and furry, and fuzzy,
pressing close to him, and at first he thought he had bumped into Dottie
or Willie Lambkin.

But then, all of a sudden, a harsh voice cried out:

"Ha! Now I have you! I was just wishing some one would come along with my
dinner, and you did! Get in there, and see if you can find your fortune,
Uncle Wiggily!" And with that what should happen but that big, black bear,
who had been hiding in the stump, pushed Uncle Wiggily into a dark closet,
and locked the door! And there the poor rabbit was, and the bear was
getting ready to eat him up.

But don't worry, I'll find a way to get him out, and in case we have ice
cream pancakes for supper I'll tell you, in the next story, how Uncle
Wiggily got out of the bear's den, and how he went fishing--I mean Uncle
Wiggily went fishing, not the bear.

STORY II

UNCLE WIGGILY GOES FISHING

At first, after he found himself shut up in the bear's dark closet, where
we left him in the story before this, poor Uncle Wiggily didn't know what
to think. He just sat there, on the edge of a chair, and he tried to look
around, and see something, but it was too black, so he couldn't.

"Perhaps this is only a joke," thought the old gentleman rabbit, "though I
never knew a black bear to