“Oh, don’t eat that cone.  It belongs to Grandfather Goosey,” cried the rabbit, sadly-like.

“Too late!” cried the bear, in a growlery voice.  “Here it goes!” and with that he stuck his long, red tongue down inside the second cone, and with one lick he licked all the ice cream out and threw the empty cone on the ground.

“Now I feel good and hungry, and I guess I’ll eat you,” cried the bear.  He made a grab for the poor gentleman rabbit, and folded him tight in his paws.  But before that Uncle Wiggily had reached down and had picked up the two empty ice cream cones.

“Oh, let me go!” cried Uncle Wiggily to the bear.

“Indeed I’ll not!” shouted the savage creature.  “I want you for supper.”

Well, he was just going to eat Uncle Wiggily up, when that brave rabbit just took the sharp points of those two empty ice cream cones, and he stuck them in the bear’s ticklish ribs, and Uncle Wiggily tickled the bear so that the furry, savage creature sneezed out loud, and laughed so hard that Uncle Wiggily easily slipped out of his paws, and hopped away before he could be caught again.

So that’s how the rabbit got safely away, and the empty ice cream cones were of some use after all.  But Uncle Wiggily wondered how he could get a full one for Grandfather Goosey Gander, and how he did I’ll tell you pretty soon, when, in case a butterfly doesn’t bite a hole in my straw hat, the next story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the red ants.

STORY XXVII

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE RED ANTS

When Uncle Wiggily got to where Grandfather Goosey Gander was waiting for him, under the shady tree, the old gentleman duck jumped up and cried out: 

“Oh, how glad I am to see you!  I’ve just been wishing you would hurry back with those ice cream cones.  My!  I never knew the weather to be so warm at this time of the year.  Oh, won’t they taste most delicious—­those cones!”

You see he didn’t yet know what the bear had done—­eaten all the ice cream out of the cones, as I told you in the other story.

“Oh, dear!” cried the rabbit.  “How sorry I am to have to disappoint you, Grandfather, but there is no ice cream!”

“No ice cream!” cried the alligator—­oh, dear me!  I mean the duck.  “No ice cream?”

“Not a bit,” said Uncle Wiggily, and then he told about what the savage bear-creature had done, and also how he had used the cones to tickle him.

“Well, that’s too bad,” said Grandfather Goosey, “but here, I’ll give you money to buy more cones with,” and he put his hand in his pocket, but lo and behold! he had lost all his money.

“Never mind, perhaps I have some pennies,” said the rabbit; so he looked, but, oh, dear me, suz-dud and the mustard pot!  All of Uncle Wiggily’s money was gone, too.

“Well, I guess we can’t get any ice cream cones this week,” said the old gentleman duck.  “We’ll have to drink water.”