Imperial Valley Press

Bed-Time Stories

By HOWARD E. GARIS

Copyright, 1927, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE OLD FENCE

Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, there stood in a field near Uncle Wiggily's hollow stump bungalow an old fence. It was the kind called a rail fence; that is there were cedar posts, with holes cut through them, and into these holes were stuck the ends of long cedar rails, extending over the hill and far away in a long line.

This made the rail fence and you have read stories, I am sure, about how our President Abraham Lincoln used to split rails to make fences like the one I am telling you about.

The rail fence near Uncle Wiggily's hollow stump bungalow was very old. It was so old that, in places, it was tumbling down. The posts leaned this way and that way. Some had fallen, or broken off near the ground and the rails had fallen with them.

One morning, when the sun had melted some of the snow from the fields, and when the wind had blown what snow remained away from certain spots, the rabbit gentleman hopped over the fields looking for an adventure. Soon he reached the old fence and, leaning on a top rail with his paws, Uncle Wiggily said:

"What a dear, jolly old fence! If I could paint I would make a picture of it winding up over the hill and far away into the pasture where, in summer, Mrs. Moo, the cow lady, will be eating green grass. What a jolly old fence!"

"Yes," suddenly spoke a voice so close to the rabbit gentleman that he jumped back in surprise. "Yes, old is right! I am such an old fence that I am no longer of any use in this world. I might just as well be torn down and burned in the fire place."

"Who was that speaking?" asked the bunny gentleman.

"I was," went on the voice. "I am the old fence you were admiring. Old is right! I am very old—no good in fact."

"Oh, don't say that!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "I am old myself, and yet I think I am still useful. If for nothing more, for stories to be written about me so children may listen to them."

"Oh, it is different with you," said the Old Fence in gloomy tones. "You are not nearly as old as I am. Really, I don't see why I should keep on. Sometimes I feel so old and weak I can hardly stand up. And as for keeping things out of one field or the other, I'm a joke. Just take a look!"

As Uncle Wiggily looked, he saw a lot of his own little bunny boys and girls, together with Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrels, some cats, dogs, chickens and ducks climbing over or crawling under the Old Fence. They had no trouble at all.

"What good am I?" sighed the cedar rails and posts. And lest you be surprised at learning an old Fence can talk, let me tell you that perhaps you could not have understood what was said, but Uncle Wiggily could. The rabbit gentleman understood many kinds of queer talk—such as what the birds, bees and flowers said in summer, and what icicles, snowballs and Jack Frost said in winter. So it was no trouble at all for him to listen to the talk of the Old Fence.

"Oh, there must be something for you to do in this world," said the rabbit gentleman, "even if you can't keep animal boys and girls from crossing from one field to the other. Don't give up hope, dear heart," and the rabbit spoke thus kindly to the Old Fence.

"But what good am I?" the Fence wanted to know. "Ah—there goes a piece of me now!" and, as he spoke, part of the fence, in a field a little distance away, toppled over with a crash as the wind blew it. "I am so old and weak I am falling apart," sighed the Fence.

Uncle Wiggily was trying to think of something jolly to tell the old rails and posts when, all of a sudden, the Bob Cat came slinking along through the dried weeds. The rabbit saw the Bad Chap just in time, on the same side of the fence where Mr. Longears was standing.

Quickly Uncle Wiggily crawled beneath the lower rail and was safe on the far side. But the Bob Cat bawled and cried:

"You can't get away from me like that. I'll catch you!"

The Bob Cat wasn't sneezing, though when he said "catch you," it sounded so. He started to crawl under the fence to get Uncle Wiggily but just then, all of a sudden, the Old Fence fell down at that very spot and a lot of the rails and posts clattered on the back of the Bob cat, pinning him fast to the ground.

"Run, Uncle Wiggily! I'll hold him!" shouted the Old Fence.

"Thank you!" called back the bunny gentleman as he hopped safely to his bungalow. "You see you are of some use in this world after all, Old Fence." And what was left of the fence was happy. So if the automobile doesn't stay out so late it meets the milkman bringing in the ice cream for the cat's breakfast, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the whispering tent.