It was the day after the wasp had nearly stung him, and the old gentleman rabbit was traveling on alone, for the second cousin to Grandfather Prickly Porcupine had to go home, and so he couldn’t help Uncle Wiggily hunt for his fortune any longer.

“Now take care of yourself,” the porcupine had said to the rabbit, as they bade each other good-by, “and don’t let any wasps sting you.”

“What should I do, in case I happened to be stung?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“Put some mud on the place,” said the porcupine.  “Mud is good for stings.”

“I will,” said the rabbit, and then he hopped on with his valise and his red-white-and-blue-striped-barber-pole crutch.  Uncle Wiggily hoped he would soon find his fortune, for he wanted to get back home and see Sammie and Susie Littletail, and all the other animal friends.  So he looked around very carefully for any signs of gold.  He also asked all the animals and flowers whom he met if they could tell him where his fortune was.

“No,” said a warty-spotted toad, “I can’t tell you, but I should think you would dig in the ground for gold.”

So Uncle Wiggily dug in the dirt in many places, but no gold did he find.

“Perhaps you can tell me where my fortune is?” he said to a tailor-bird who was sewing some leaves together to make a nest.

“It might be up in the air,” said the tailor-bird.  “If I were you I should hop up into the air and look for it.”

Well, Uncle Wiggily hopped up, but you know how it is with rabbits.  They’re not made to fly, and he couldn’t stay up in the air long enough to do any good, so he couldn’t find any gold that way.

“Oh, dear!  I guess I’ll never find my fortune,” said the rabbit sadly-like.  Then he saw a little blue flower, shaped just like a bell, hanging on a stem over a small babbling brook of water.

“Ah, there is a bluebell!” said the rabbit.  “Perhaps she knows where my fortune is.  I’ll ask her, for flowers are very wise.”

“No, I can’t tell you where there is any gold,” said the bluebell when Uncle Wiggily had asked her most politely.  “All I do is to swing backward and forward here all day long, and I ring my bell and I am happy.  I do not need gold.”

“I wish I didn’t have to have it, but I do.  I need it to make my fortune, and then I can go home,” said the rabbit.

“Very well,” spoke the blue flower, as she rang her bell, oh so sweetly! so that it seemed to the rabbit as if she played a song about the blue skies, and birds singing and fountains spouting upward in the sun while pretty blossoms grew all around.  “Go on, Uncle Wiggily, but if you don’t find your fortune come back here, and I will sing you to sleep,” she added.

“I will,” spoke the rabbit, as he hopped away.

Well, pretty soon, not so very long, as he was walking on a path through the woods, Uncle Wiggily heard a voice speaking.

“I can tell you where to find your fortune,” said the voice.  “I know where there is a big pile of yellow stones, and I think they are gold.  Follow me and I will show you.”