“Oh, there is the rainbow!” cried the boy giant at last, as he saw the beautiful gold and green and orange and red colors in the sky.  “Now for the pot of gold.”

So he and Uncle Wiggily started off together to find it.  But they had not gone very far through the woods before they met the papa giant.

“Where are you going?” he asked of them.

“To the end of the rainbow to get the pot of gold,” said the giant’s little boy.

“You don’t need to,” said the giant, “for there is none there.  That is only a fairy story.  Wait, I’ll show you.”

So he stretched out his long arm as far as it would go and he reached away down to the end of the rainbow and he felt all around with his long fingers, and sure enough, there wasn’t a bit of gold there, for his hand came back empty.

“It’s too bad,” said the giant’s little boy to Uncle Wiggily.  “There is nothing there for you.  But perhaps you will find your fortune to-morrow.  Come and stay with me until morning.”

So Uncle Wiggily went back to the giant’s house, and the next day quite a surprising adventure occurred to him, and in case the gasoline in my motorboat doesn’t wash all the paint off my red necktie I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and Grand-daddy Longlegs.

STORY XXXI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND DADDY LONGLEGS

Uncle Wiggily got up early the morning after the good giant had shown him that there wasn’t any gold at the end of the rainbow.  The old gentleman rabbit looked where a place had been set for him at the table, but alas and alack a-day, the table was almost as high from the floor as the church steeple is from the ground, and Uncle Wiggily could not reach up to it.

“Hum, let’s see what we will do,” spoke the papa giant.  “I know, I’ll get a spool of thread from the lady giant next door, and that will answer for a table for you, Uncle Wiggily, and you can use another toothpick for a chair.”

So while the boy giant went for the spool of thread, the papa giant served Uncle Wiggily’s breakfast.  First he brought in a washtub full of milk and a bushel basket full of oatmeal.

“What is that for?” asked the rabbit in surprise.

“That is for your breakfast,” was the answer.  “Isn’t it enough?  Because I can get you more in a jiffy, if you want it.”

“Oh, it is entirely too much,” said Uncle Wiggily.  “I can only take a little of that oatmeal.”

“Very well, then, I will take this myself, and get you a small dish full,” spoke the papa giant, and he ate all that oatmeal and milk up at one mouthful, but even then it was hardly enough to fill his hollow tooth.

Then the boy giant came back with the spool, which was as big as the dining-room table in a rabbit’s house.  Up at this new table the traveling uncle sat, and he ate a very good breakfast indeed.

“Now I must start off again to seek my fortune,” he said, as he took his crutch, striped red, green and yellow, like a cow’s horn.  Oh, excuse me!  I was thinking of circus balloons, I guess.  Anyhow Uncle Wiggily took his crutch and valise, and, as he was about to start off, the boy giant said: