“The last of me?” asked Buddy, who, being a little boy, had not seen as much of the world as had Sammie.

“The very last of you,” answered the rabbit.  “You would be choked to death by the wire.  Yes, the turnip was put there to catch some one, but they won’t catch us, Buddy.  We’ll fool them!”

“Oh, I say!  This is too bad!” exclaimed Buddy.  “I was just counting on this turnip.  Isn’t there any way we can get it?”

“I don’t believe so,” replied Sammie, wrinkling up his nose, just as Buddy was doing.  They smelled that turnip, and it had a most delicious odor, better to them, even, than strawberries are to you.

“Maybe we can throw some stones up and knock it down,” suggested Buddy.

So they threw up stones, and, though they hit the turnip, and made it swing back and forth, like the pendulum of the clock, it didn’t fall down, and by this time Buddy and Sammie were getting very hungry.

“Let’s try throwing sticks,” proposed Sammie.  “We’ll toss them at the cord, and maybe we can break it.”

So they threw sticks, and, though Buddy did manage to hit the cord, the turnip didn’t come down, and they were more hungry than ever.

“Let’s take a long pole and poke the turnip down,” said Sammie after a while, and they did so, but Buddy accidentally came within half a dozen steps of going too near the trap, and was almost caught.

“Oh, I guess we’ll have to give it up,” spoke Sammie, but Buddy didn’t want to, because he was very determined, and did not like to stop until he had done what he set out to do.

So he tried every way he could think of, until he was all tired out, but nothing seemed to do any good.  Then he and Sammie sat down and looked up at that turnip, swinging over their heads, and they were so hungry that their tongues stuck out like a dog’s on a hot day.  Then, all at once, before you could sharpen a lead pencil with a dull knife, if out from the bushes didn’t pop Billie Bushytail, the squirrel.

“What’s up?” he asked, just like that, honestly he did.

“The turnip is,” said Buddy; “it’s up high and we can’t get it down.”

“Ha!  That’s a mere trifle—­a mere trifle!” cried Billie.  “I will climb up the tree, run out on the limb and gnaw through the string.  Then the turnip will fall down to you.”

Which he did in two frisks of his tail, without any danger from the trap at all, for that was on the ground, while Billie was above it in the tree.  So Buddy and Sammie had the turnip after all.  And they divided it evenly, Sammie gnawing it through with his teeth, and each one took his half home.  Billie didn’t like turnip, you see for he would rather have chestnuts.

Now, I think I’ll tell you next about Buddy Pigg playing ball—­that is, if our tea kettle sings a nice song for supper and makes the rag doll go to sleep.

STORY IV