"Oh, excuse me!" exclaimed the rabbit, "but while it is very kind of you, I cannot eat such things. I never could chew a tomato can, nor yet a wooden, or even a sawdust pie."

"No more you could," cried Aunt Lettie in confusion. "I was thinking of what I liked to eat. Very well, I will give you some carrots and cabbage and a piece of cherry pie. I know you will like those."

So she made Uncle Wiggily that kind of a lunch, and he put it in his valise, and after saying good-by to the old lady goat, and the three Wibblewobbles, off he started to seek his fortune once more.

On and on he traveled up some hills, and down others and through the woods, and pretty soon he came to a place where there was a big hole in the ground.

"Ah, ha!" exclaimed the rabbit, "perhaps this is a gold mine. I will get some gold dollars out of it and then I will be rich." So he went close to the hole and looked down it, but all of a sudden out popped a great big rat, and she gnashed her teeth at Uncle Wiggily and tried to bite him.

"What are you doing at my house?" she cried, real savagely. "Get away at once before I eat you."

"Indeed I will," said the rabbit, politely. "I thought your hole was a gold mine. Excuse me, I'll get right along," so he hopped away as fast as he could hop, very thankful that he had not gone down the hole.

Well, the next place he came to was where a great big stone was sticking out of the side of a hill. And the stone glittered in the sunshine just like diamonds or dewdrops.

"Oh, how delightful!" cried the rabbit. "This surely is a gold stone. I will break off some pieces of it and take them home, and then I will have my fortune."

So, taking his crutch, Uncle Wiggily tried to break off pieces of the glittering stone. But, my goodness me, sakes alive and a chocolate ice cream cone! that stone was very hard, and try as he did, Uncle Wiggily couldn't break off a piece even as big as baby's tiny pink toe.

"I'll just sing a little song, and then, perhaps, I can get some of the gold," he said. So he sang this song, which goes to the tune "Tiddily-um-tum-tum:"

"My fortune I've found, On top of the ground, I'm lucky as lucky can be. But really this stone, Is hard as a bone, I wish that some one would help me."

After singing, Uncle Wiggily hammered away at the stone with his crutch again, but the song did no good. And then, all at once, before you could shake your finger at a pink pussy cat, out from behind the glittering stone there jumped the savage wushky-woshky, which is a very curious beast with two tails and three heads and only one crinkly leg, so that it has to go hippity-hop, or else fall down ker thump!

"What are you doing to my stone?" cried the wushky-woshky.

"Oh, excuse me," said Uncle Wiggily politely. "I didn't know it was your stone. I was only trying to break off a small piece for my fortune."

"Wow! Oh, wow!" cried the wushky-woshky, as savage as savage could be, and he gnashed the teeth in all three of his mouths, and he lashed his two tails on the ground. "I'm going to catch you!" he called to the rabbit.

"Not if I know it you won't catch me," said Uncle Wiggily bravely, and off he hopped down the hill.

"Yes, I will catch you!" cried the wushky-woshky, and off he hopped on his one crinkly leg after the rabbit. Faster and faster hopped Uncle Wiggily, but still faster and faster hopped the wushky-woshky.

"Oh, he'll surely catch me!" thought the rabbit. "I wonder what I can do? I know. I'll open my valise, and I'll scatter on the ground my nice lunch that Aunt Lettie put up for me, and the wushky-woshky will stop to eat the good things, and then I can get away."

So the rabbit did this. Out on the ground from the valise tumbled all the nice carrot and lettuce sandwiches. But the savage wushky-woshky gobbled them up with three mouthfuls, and didn't stop hopping after Uncle Wiggily on his one crinkly leg.

"Oh, he'll surely catch me now!" cried the rabbit.

"No, he won't! Jump up in the air, and come down inside of me!" cried a voice, and Uncle Wiggily saw a nice blackberry bush waving its long arms at him. "Jump down inside of me, where there are no thorns to scratch you," said the berry bush, "but if the wushky-woshky tries to come after you I'll scratch his six eyes out. I'll save you. Jump down inside me!"

"Thank you, I will," said the rabbit, and he gave a big spring and a hop, over the outer edge of the bush, and down he landed safely inside of it, not scratched a bit. Up came the three-headed, two-tailed and one crinkly-legged wushky-woshky, but when he saw the prickly briar berry bush he stopped short, for he did not want his six eyes scratched out.

"Come out of there!" cried the wushky-woshky to the rabbit.

"Indeed, I will not," said Uncle Wiggily, politely.

"Then I'll stay here forever and you can't ever come out," said the savage creature. "For if you come out I'll eat you!"

"Don't let him scare you," said the briar berry bush to Uncle Wiggily, "I'll fix him," so the berry bush reached out a long arm all covered with stickers, and she stickered and prickered the wushky-woshky on his three heads and two tails and one leg, so that the savage creature ran away howling, and Uncle Wiggily was safe, and not hurt a bit, I'm glad to say.

So he stayed in the briar bush that night and had berries for breakfast, and the next day he had another adventure. What it was I will tell you on the page after this one, when the bedtime story will be about Uncle Wiggily and the camp fire—that is, if the cat across the street doesn't untie the pink ribbon off our pussy's neck and put it on his ice cream cone.



STORY XXIX

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE CAMP FIRE

"Well, how do you find yourself this morning?" asked the berry bush of Uncle Wiggily as the old gentleman rabbit peeped out to see if the bad three-headed wushky-woshky had come back. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, thank you kindly," spoke the rabbit, "but I was just wondering how I could get out of here to go on and seek my fortune without being scratched all to pieces."

"Can't you jump out just as you jumped in?" asked the bush, waving her prickly arms, but taking care not to so much as even tickle Uncle Wiggily.

"No, there isn't room enough for me to get started to jump out," replied the rabbit. "I'm afraid I'll have to stay here a long time, and I really ought to be going on."

"Oh, I have a plan!" suddenly cried the bush. "You are a very good digger, so why can't you dig a tunnel right under me? Start it inside here and curve it up so that it comes outside of my prickly branches, and then you won't be scratched."

"I'll do it!" cried Uncle Wiggily, so with his strong front feet he dug a tunnel, just as you sometimes make in the sand, and soon he was safely outside the berry bush.

"Take some of my berries with you," said the bush, "so you won't get hungry."

"I will," answered the rabbit, and he filled his valise with nice, big blackberries. He felt a little sad about the nice lunch the wushky-woshky had eaten, but there was no help for it—that lunch was gone completely.

So Uncle Wiggily said good-by to the kind berry bush, and traveled on once more to seek his fortune.

"Watch out for the wushky-woshky," called the bush to the rabbit, as she waved her friendly stickery branches at him.

"I will," he said, and then he passed up over the hill and out of sight.

The first place he came to was an old hollow stump, where an old owl had once lived. The rabbit looked down inside the stump, but there was no fortune there.

The second place he came to was a curious little house built of bark, where an old dog, who was a friend to Peetie and Jackie Bow Wow, used to live, but the old dog was away on his vacation at Ocean Grove, so he wasn't at home.

"Perhaps there is a fortune in here," thought the rabbit, but there wasn't any and he went on.

Now the third place he came to was a little house, made out of clothespins, where a pussy cat lived, and the pussy wasn't home, for she had just gone to the store to get some milk.

But the rabbit didn't know this, so he went inside the house to see if there was any fortune there. And the first thing he saw on the mantelpiece was a tin bank, and when he shook it something inside of it rattled, and when he peeped in Uncle Wiggily saw a whole lot of pennies in the tin bank.

"Oh fine!" he cried, "now I have my fortune at last. Some one has gone away and left all this money, so I might as well take it."

Well, he was just putting the bank full of pennies into his valise, when the pussy came back with the bottle of milk.

"Oh! are you going to take my bank away from me?" she cried, very sadly. "I have been saving up my pennies for a long time, and now you have them."

"Oh, I wouldn't take them for the world!" cried the rabbit. "I didn't know they were yours, it's all a mistake," and he placed the bank right back on the mantel. "But perhaps you could tell me where to find my fortune," said Uncle Wiggily, and he told the pussy all about his travels.

"First we will have a drink of milk," said the pussy, and she poured out some for the rabbit. "Then I will go into the woods a little way with you and help you look for your fortune."

"Perhaps we had better take some lunch with us," said the rabbit, so he went to the store and got a nice lunch, which he put up in his valise, and then he and the pussy started off together to the woods.

They looked here and there and everywhere and even around corners, but no fortune could they find, and pretty soon it began to get a little dark. And then suddenly it got all dark.

"Oh, I can never find my way back home!" cried the pussy. "And I am afraid in these lonesome woods."

"Oh! don't be frightened," said Uncle Wiggily, who was very brave. "I will build a camp fire and we can stay here all night. I will cook some supper and in the morning I will take you home."

Then the pussy wasn't afraid any more. She helped the rabbit to gather up some dry leaves and little sticks, and also some big sticks, and soon Uncle Wiggily had a fine fire merrily blazing away in the woods, and it was nice and light. Then he took some leafy branches and made a little house for himself and the pussy and then they cooked supper, making some coffee in an old empty tomato can they found near a wrinkly-crinkly stump.

"Oh, this is real jolly!" cried the pussy, as she warmed her paws and her nose at the blaze. "It is much better than drinking milk out of a bottle."

"I think so myself," said the rabbit. "Now, if I could only find my fortune I would be happy. But, perhaps, I shall to-morrow."

Well, pretty soon Uncle Wiggily and the pussy became sleepy so they thought they would go to bed. They made their beds in the little green bower-house on some soft, dried leaves.

"And I must have plenty of wood to put on the camp fire," said the rabbit, "for in the night some bad animal might try to eat us, but when they see the blaze they will be afraid and run away."

So he gathered a big pile of wood, and then he and the pussy went to sleep. And in the middle of the night, as true as I'm telling you, yes, indeed, along came sneaking the wushky-woshky with his three heads and two tails and his one crinkly leg.

"Now, I'll have a fine meal," thought the wushky-woshky as he saw the rabbit and the pussy sleeping. "Which one shall I take first?"

But all of a sudden his foot slipped on a stone and he made a noise, and Uncle Wiggily awakened in an instant and cried out:

"Some one is after us!" Then the brave rabbit threw some wood on the camp fire, and it blazed up so quickly that it burned the whiskers of the wushky-woshky and he gave three howls, one with each of his mouths, and away he hopped on his one leg, taking his two tails with him.

"My!" cried the pussy, "it's a good thing we had the camp fire, or we would have been eaten up."

"Indeed it is," said the rabbit. "I'll keep it blazing all night." So he did this, and no more wushky-woshkys came to bother them. And in the morning the pussy and the rabbit traveled on together and they had quite an adventure.

What it was I'll relate to you almost immediately, when, in case a little girl named Elizabeth learns how to swim by standing on one toe and holding a red balloon under water, I'll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the cowbird.



STORY XXX

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE COWBIRD

"Do you think you can help me find my way back home again?" asked the pussy of Uncle Wiggily as they awakened the next morning, after having spent the night in the woods by the camp fire.

"Oh, I'm sure I can," answered the rabbit. "As soon as we have our breakfast we'll start off to look for your clothespin house."

Then Uncle Wiggily made up the camp fire again, putting on some more wood, and he boiled the coffee, in a tomato can, and fried some pieces of bacon he had in his valise. The way he cooked them was to take a sharp stick and put a piece of bacon on the end of it, and then he held the bacon up in front of the blaze, where it sizzled away, and got nice and curly and brown, and oh! how good it did smell, and so did the coffee! Oh! it's great to cook over a camp fire when the smoke doesn't get in your eyes and when it doesn't rain.

"Now we must put out the fire," said the rabbit, as he and the pussy were ready to go look for the clothespin house.

"Why must we do that, Uncle Wiggily?"

"Oh, so that it will not set fire to the woods, and burn down the nice trees after we are gone. Always put out your camp fire when you leave it," said the rabbit, as he threw water on the blaze, making clouds of steam.

Well, he and the pussy traveled on for some time longer together, but somehow or other they couldn't seem to find the place where the pussy lived, and the little cat was beginning to be sorry that she had gone camping in the woods.

"Oh, I know I'll never find my home again!" she cried.

"Oh, yes, we will," said the rabbit kindly. "Don't worry."

And just then they heard some one else crying, a little, tiny, sobbing voice.

"What's that?" exclaimed the pussy. "Perhaps it is one of the skillery-scalery alligator's children."

"No, I do not think so," said the rabbit. "It sounds to me as if some one else were lost in the woods, and I may have to find their home, too. We'll take a look."

So they looked all around, but they couldn't seem to find any one, though the crying was still to be heard.

"That's queer," said the rabbit, "I'll call to them."

So he called as loudly as he could like this:

"Is any one lost? Do you want me to help you find your home?"

"Oh, I'd be very glad to have you help me," said the crying voice, "but I am not lost."

"Then who are you, and what is the matter?" asked the rabbit.

"Oh, I am a robin bird," was the answer, "and I am in this bush over your heads."

"Ha, no wonder we couldn't see you," said the rabbit, as he and the pussy looked up, and there, sure enough, was the nice mamma robin bird, and she was crying, as she sat in the bush.

"What is the matter?" asked the rabbit.

"I will tell you," said the robin. "You know there is a bird called the cowbird or cuckoo, and that bird is too lazy to build a nest for itself. So what do you think it does?"

"What?" asked the pussy.

"Why it goes around, laying its eggs in the nests of other birds," said the robin. "Then we birds have to hatch out the cowbird's eggs, and when her children come out they are so unpleasant that they shove our little birdies right out of the nest, and eat all the things we mamma birds bring home to our little ones."

"Ha! That is very unpleasant, to say the least," spoke the rabbit. "And are there any cowbirds in your nest now, Mrs. Robin?"

"Not yet, but there are three of the cowbird's eggs here, and they will soon hatch out."

"Why don't you toss out the cowbird's eggs?" asked the pussy. "Then you won't have to hatch them."

"I would," said the robin, "only I am not strong enough, for I have been ill, and my husband is out of work and he is looking for some. So I don't know what to do about it. Oh, dear!" and she cried again.

"Ha! We must see what we can do," said Uncle Wiggily, who always liked to help people who were in trouble. "I think I have a plan."

"What is it?" asked the robin.

"Well, I can't climb up that bush, for my paws are not built for that sort of thing, but the pussy can climb very nicely, as she has sharp claws."

"Indeed I can," said the pussy, "and I will, and I'll throw out the cowbird's eggs for you, so those bad birds won't bother your little birds."

So Uncle Wiggily gave the pussy a boost up the bush, in which the robin's nest was built, and then the pussy, with her sharp claws climbed up the rest of the distance all alone very nicely.

"Now show me which are the eggs of the cowbird?" said the kittie-cat to the robin when the nest was reached. So the robin mamma pointed out the eggs with her claw, and then with her foot the pussy clawed those cowbird eggs out on the ground where they wouldn't hatch.

"Now, that will be the last of those bad birds," said the pussy as she started to climb down to where Uncle Wiggily was waiting for her.

"Yes, indeed, and thank you very much," spoke the robin. "Now, my little ones will have a chance to grow and live."

And just then there was a fluttering and a rustling in the bushes, and the bad cowbird came flying past. And when she saw what had been done, and how her eggs had been tossed out of the robin's nest where they didn't belong, that cowbird flew at the pussy and was going to pick her eyes out.

But Uncle Wiggily took his crutch, and tickled the cowbird so that she sneezed, and had to fly away without doing any harm. And Uncle Wiggily called after her that she ought to be ashamed of herself not to build her own nests. And I guess that cowbird was ashamed, but I'm not sure. Anyhow she came back a little later and gathered up her eggs off the ground, and flew away with them, and what she did with them I'll tell you; oh, just as soon as you like.

The bedtime story then will be about Uncle Wiggily and the tailor bird—that is, if the needle and thread don't dance up and down on the pin cushion, and make it full of holes so the sawdust stuffing comes out and tickles the baby's pink toes.



STORY XXXI

UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE TAILOR BIRD

After Uncle Wiggily and the pussy had helped the robin get the cowbird's eggs out of her nest, as I told you in the story before this, the rabbit and the kittie stayed in the woods a little while talking to the mamma bird.

"I should like to see the little robins hatch out of the eggs," said the pussy, as she frisked her tail about and smoothed out her fur.

"So should I," added Uncle Wiggily.

"I will gladly let you see my little birdies hatch," spoke the robin, "but it will take nearly a week yet, and you will have to wait."

"Oh, I can't wait as long as that," went on the rabbit. "I must be off to seek my fortune."

"Yes, and I must go and find my clothespin house," said the pussy.

So they said good-by to the mamma robin, and away the pussy and Uncle Wiggily went, over the hills and down the dales through the woods and over little brooks.

Pretty soon they came to a place in the woods where there were a whole lot of flowers nodding their heads in the wind, and it was such a pretty place that Uncle Wiggily and the pussy stayed there a little while. And in about a minute they heard something flying through the bushes and out flew that same cowbird, and she laughed just as hard as she could laugh, as she passed along.

"Somebody is going to be surprised!" cried the cowbird and she fluttered her wings at the rabbit and the kittie, and then she hid herself off in the woods.

"I wonder what she means?" asked the pussy.

"I'm sure I don't know," replied the rabbit. "But did you notice that she didn't have her eggs with her?"

"Sure enough!" exclaimed the pussy. "She must have left them in some other bird's nest."

"Well, we had better keep on, for it is getting late," spoke Uncle Wiggily, "and I want to find your clothespin house for you."

On they hurried through the trees, and pretty soon—Oh, I guess about as long as it takes you to eat a stick of peppermint candy—they suddenly came to the pussy's clothespin house.

"Oh, here's where I live!" she cried. "How glad I am to get back home!" She hurried in through the front door and no sooner was she inside than she cried out:

"Come here! Come here, quickly, Uncle Wiggily! Did you ever see such a sight in all your born days?"

"What is it?" asked the rabbit, as he hopped in, and he was half afraid that there might be a burglar fox hiding in the pussy's house.

But it wasn't anything like that. Instead the rabbit saw the pussy pointing to her bed, and there, right in the middle of the feather pillows, were some eggs.

"The cowbird's eggs!" cried the kittie. "That's what she meant when she said some one was going to be surprised. Indeed, I am the one who is surprised. She brought her eggs here, thinking I would hatch them out for her, but I'll not do it!"

So the pussy threw the eggs out of the window, on some soft straw, where they wouldn't be broken, and pretty soon that cowbird came back, as angry as a lion without any tail. And she grabbed up her eggs, and this time she took them to the monkey, who played five hand-organs at once. And the monkey was a good-natured sort of a chap, so he hatched out the cowbird's eggs for her, and soon he had a lot of little calfbirds, and when they grew up they gave him no end of trouble.

"Well, now you are safe home," said Uncle Wiggily to the pussy, "I will travel on."

"First, let me fill your valise with something to eat," said the kittie cat, and she did so, and then the rabbit hopped on. He looked all over for his fortune, but he couldn't find it, and pretty soon it got dark night and he went to sleep in a hollow stump.

"Surely, I will find my fortune to-day," thought Uncle Wiggily, as he arose the next morning, and combed out his whiskers. It was a bright, beautiful sunshiny morning, and everything was cheerful, and the birds were singing. But, in spite of all that, something happened to the rabbit.

He was just going past a berry bush, and he was reaching up to pick off some of the red raspberries, when all at once a sharp claw was thrust out from the bush and a grab was made for the rabbit.

"Now, I've got you!" cried a savage voice.

"No, you haven't!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, and he jumped back just as a savage wolf sprang out at him.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll get you yet!" went on the wolf and he made another spring. But the rabbit was ready for him and ran down the hill and the wolf ran after him, howling at the top of his grillery-growlery voice, for he was very hungry.

My! how Uncle Wiggily did run. And the wolf ran also, and he was catching up to the rabbit, and probably would have eaten him all up, but just then a kind bumble bee who knew Uncle Wiggily flew off a tree branch and stung that wolf on the end of his nose.

That wolf gave a howl, and made one more grab for Uncle Wiggily, but he only managed to catch hold of his coat tails in his teeth, and there the wolf held on.

"Let go of Uncle Wiggily!" buzzed the bee.

"No I won't!" cried the wolf, most impolite-like.

"Then I'll sting you again!" cried the bee, and she did so, and the rabbit gave a great pull, and he managed to pull himself away from the wolf. But, alas! Uncle Wiggily's nice red coat was all tattered and torn.

"Oh, whatever shall I do?" cried Uncle Wiggily as the wolf ran away down the hill and the rabbit looked at the torn and ripped coat. "I never can go on seeking my fortune with a torn coat."

"I am sorry," said the bee, "but I can not help you. But if you see the tailor bird she may mend your coat for you."

So the bee buzzed away and Uncle Wiggily went on looking for the tailor bird. This is a bird that makes a nest by sewing leaves together with grass for thread. And would you believe me, in a little while Uncle Wiggily saw the very bird he wanted.

She was making a nest with her bill for a needle and some dried grass for thread, and she was sewing the leaves together.

"Will you kindly mend my coat for me where the wolf tore it?" asked the rabbit politely.

"Indeed I will," said the tailor bird. So she took some long, strong pieces of grass for thread. Then she made her sharp bill go back and forth in the cloth of Uncle Wiggily's coat and soon it was all mended again as good as new. Then the rabbit thanked the bird and started off again to seek his fortune and you could hardly see where his coat was torn.

Then Uncle Wiggily was very thankful to the tailor bird, and he stayed at her house for some time, helping her sweep the sidewalk mornings, and bringing up coal, and all things like that. And the old gentleman had some more adventures.

But as I have already made this book quite long, I think I will have to save the rest of the stories for another one. I'll get it ready as soon as I can for you, and the name of it is going to be "Uncle Wiggily's Fortune."

Just think of that! He really does find his fortune in that book, though he has quite some trouble, let me tell you. But bless your hearts! Trouble is only another kind of fun!

So now we will say good-by to Uncle Wiggily for a time, and soon you may hear more about him. Good-by and good luck to all of you.

THE END



* * * * *



Uncle Wiggily Picture Books

Three stories in each book By Howard R. Garis



Also twenty-seven color pictures By Lang Campbell

In these funny little books you can see in bright colored pictures the adventures of myself and my woodland friends. Also the pictures of some bad fellows, whose names you know.

So if the spoon holder doesn't go down cellar and take the coal shovel away from the gas stove, you may read

No. 1. UNCLE WIGGILY'S AUTO SLED

If the rocking chair doesn't tickle the rag carpet and make the brass bed fall upstairs, you may read

No. 2. UNCLE WIGGILY'S SNOW MAN

If the umbrella doesn't go out in the rain and splash water all over the rubber boots on the gold fish, you may read

No. 3. UNCLE WIGGILY'S HOLIDAYS

If the electric light doesn't cry for some molasses, when the match leaves it all alone in the china closet, you may read

No. 4. UNCLE WIGGILY'S APPLE ROAST

If the egg beater doesn't try to jump over the coffee pot and fall in the sink when the potato is learning to swim, you may read

No. 5. UNCLE WIGGILY'S PICNIC

If the sugar cookie doesn't go out walking with the fountain pen, and get all black so it looks like a chocolate cake, you may read

No. 6. UNCLE WIGGILY GOES FISHING

Hurry up and get these nice little books from the bookstore man, or send direct to the publishers, 50 cents per copy, postpaid.

CHARLES E. GRAHAM & CO. NEW YORK



Burt's Series of One Syllable Books

14 Titles. Handsome Illuminated Cloth Binding

A series of Classics, selected specially for young people's reading, and told in simple language for youngest readers. Printed from large type, with many illustrations.

* * * * *

Price 75 Cents per Volume

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AESOP'S FABLES Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By MARY GODOLPHIN. With 41 illustrations.

ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By MRS. J.C. GORHAM. With many illustrations.

ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES (Selections.) Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By HARRIET T. COMSTOCK. With many illustrations.

BIBLE HEROES Told in words of one syllable for young people. By HARRIET T. COMSTOCK. With many illustrations.

BLACK BEAUTY Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By MRS. J.C. GORHAM. With many illustrations.

GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES (Selections.) Retold in words of one syllable. By JEAN S. REMY. With many illustrations.

GULLIVER'S TRAVELS Into several remote regions of the world. Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By J.C.G. With 32 illustrations.

LIFE OF CHRIST Told in words of one syllable for young people. By JEAN S. REMY. With many illustrations.

LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS Told in words of one syllable for young people. By JEAN S. REMY. With 24 large portraits.

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By SAMUEL PHILLIPS DAY. With 33 illustrations.

REYNARD THE FOX The Crafty Courtier. Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By SAMUEL PHILLIPS DAY. With 23 illustrations.

ROBINSON CRUSOE His life and surprising adventures retold in words of one syllable for young people. By MARY A. SCHWACOFER. With 32 illustrations.

SANFORD AND MERTON Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By MARY GODOLPHIN. With 20 illustrations.

SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON Retold in words of one syllable for young people. Adapted from the original. With 31 illustrations.

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers, A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York.

THE MOTHER GOOSE SERIES

24 TITLES HANDSOME CLOTH BINDING, ILLUMINATED COVERS

A series of popular books for young people. Each book is well printed from large type on good paper, frontispiece in colors, profusely illustrated, and bound in cloth, with ornamental covers in three colors, making a series of most interesting books for children at a reasonable price.

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Price, 75 cents per copy

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Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Animal Stories for Little People. Profusely Illustrated.

Beauty and the Beast, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Bird Stories for Little People. Profusely Illustrated.

Bluebeard, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Foolish Fox, The, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Goody Two Shoes, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Hansel and Grethel, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

House That Jack Built, The, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Jack and the Beanstalk, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Jack the Giant Killer, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Little Red Riding Hood, and Other Stories. Profusely illustrated.

Little Snow White, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Mother Goose Rhymes. Profusely Illustrated.

Mother Hubbard's Melodies. Profusely Illustrated.

Night Before Christmas, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Patty and Her Pitcher; or, Kindness of Heart, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Peter and His Goose; or, The Folly of Discontent, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Puss in Boots, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Sleeping Beauty, The, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Tom Thumb, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Ugly Duckling, The, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

Who Killed Cock Robin, and Other Stories. Profusely Illustrated.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers, A.L. BURT CO., 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York City.

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Aunt Amy's Animal Stories

By AMY PRENTICE

A Series of Stories, told by animals, to AUNT AMY PRENTICE.

Each illustrated with many pictures in black, and four illustrations in colors, by J. WATSON DAVIS.

12 titles, in handsome cloth binding.

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Price 75 cents. Net——

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Bunny Rabbit's Story, 30 Illustrations Billy Goat's Story, 32 Illustrations Brown Owl's Story, 31 Illustrations Croaky Frog's Story, 28 Illustrations Frisky Squirrel's Story, 30 Illustrations Gray Goose's Story, 32 Illustrations Mickie Monkey's Story, 35 Illustrations Mouser Cat's Story, 35 Illustrations Plodding Turtle's Story, 30 Illustrations Quacky Duck's Story, 34 Illustrations Speckled Hen's Story, 28 Illustrations Towser Dog's Story, 32 Illustrations

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers, A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23rd Street, New York.

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Our Young Aeroplane Scout Series

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

By HORACE PORTER

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Handsome Cloth Binding, PRICE, 75 per Volume

A series of stories of two American boy aviators in the great European war zone. The fascinating life in mid-air is thrillingly described. The boys have many exciting adventures, and the narratives of their numerous escapes make up a series of wonderfully interesting stories.

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OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM; or, Saving the Fortunes of the Trouvilles. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN GERMANY. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN RUSSIA; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN TURKEY; or, Bringing the Light to Yusef. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ENGLAND; or, Twin Stars in the London Sky Patrol. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN ITALY; or, Flying with the War Eagles of the Alps. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT VERDUN; or, Driving Armored Meteors Over Flaming Battle Fronts. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE BALKANS; or, Wearing the Red Badge of Courage. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN THE WAR ZONE; or, Serving Uncle Sam In the Cause of the Allies. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS FIGHTING TO THE FINISH; or, Striking Hard Over the Sea for the Stars and Stripes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS AT THE MARNE; or, Harrying the Huns From Allied Battleplanes. OUR YOUNG AEROPLANE SCOUTS IN AT THE VICTORY; or, Speedy High Flyers Smashing the Hindenburg Line.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers

A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23rd St., New York

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The Boy Scouts Series

By HERBERT CARTER

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Handsome Cloth Binding, PRICE, 75 per Volume

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THE BOY SCOUTS' FIRST CAMP FIRE; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol.

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE; or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country.

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE MAIN WOODS; or, The New Test for the Silver Fox Patrol.

THE BOY SCOUTS THROUGH THE BIG TIMBER; or, The Search for the Lost Tenderfoot.

THE BOY SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES; or, The Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND; or, Marooned Among the Game Fish Poachers.

BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp.

THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE BATTLE OF SARATOGA; A story of Burgoyne's defeat in 1777.

THE BOY SCOUTS ALONG THE SUSQUEHANNA; or, The Silver Fox Patrol Caught in a Flood.

THE BOY SCOUTS ON WAR TRAILS IN BELGIUM; or, Caught Between the Hostile Armies.

THE BOY SCOUTS AFOOT IN FRANCE; or, With the Red Cross Corps at the Marne.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers

A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23rd St., New York

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The Navy Boys Series



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A series of excellent stories of adventure on sea and land, selected from the works of popular writers; each volume designed for boys' reading.

HANDSOME CLOTH BINDINGS

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PRICE, 75 PER VOLUME

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THE NAVY BOYS IN DEFENCE OF LIBERTY. A story of the burning of the British schooner Gasnee in 1772 By William P. Chipman.

THE NAVY BOYS ON LONG ISLAND SOUND. A story of the Whale Boat Navy of 1776. By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS AT THE SIEGE OF HAVANA. Being the experience of three boys serving under Israel Putnam in 1772. By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS WITH GRANT AT VICKSBURG. A boy's story of the siege of Vicksburg. By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS' CRUISE WITH PAUL JONES. A boy's story of a cruise with the Great Commodore in 1776. By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS ON LAKE ONTARIO. The story of two boys and their adventures in the War of 1812, By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS' CRUISE ON THE PICKERING. A boy's story of privateering in 1780. By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS IN NEW YORK BAY. A story of three boys who took command of the schooner "The Laughing Mary," the first vessel of the American Navy, By James Otis.

THE NAVY BOYS IN THE TRACK OF THE ENEMY. The story of a remarkable cruise with the Sloop of War "Providence" and the Frigate "Alfred." By William P. Chipman.

THE NAVY BOYS' DARING CAPTURE. The story of how the navy boys helped to capture the British Cutter "Margaretta," in 1775. By William P. Chipman.

THE NAVY BOYS' CRUISE TO THE BAHAMAS. The adventures of two Yankee Middies with the first cruise of a: American Squadron in 1775. By William P. Chipman.

THE NAVY BOYS' CRUISE WITH COLUMBUS. The adventures of two boys who sailed with the great Admiral in his discovery of America. By Frederick A. Ober.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 East 23d Street. New York

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The Boy Spies Series

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These stories are based on important historical events, scenes wherein boys are prominent characters being selected. They are the romance of history, vigorously told, with careful fidelity to picturing the home life, and accurate in every particular.

HANDSOME CLOTH BINDINGS

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PRICE, 75 PER VOLUME

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THE BOY SPIES AT THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. A story of the part they took in its defence. By William P. Chipman.

THE BOY SPIES AT THE DEFENCE OF FORT HENRY. A boy's story of Wheeling Creek in 1777. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. A story of two boys at the siege of Boston. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES AT THE SIEGE OF DETROIT. A story of two Ohio boys in the War of 1812. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES WITH LAFAYETTE. The story of how two boys joined the Continental Army. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES ON CHESAPEAKE BAY. The story of two young spies under Commodore Barney. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES WITH THE REGULATORS. The story of how the boys assisted the Carolina Patriots to drive the British from that State. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES WITH THE SWAMP FOX. The story of General Marion and his young spies. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES AT YORKTOWN. The story of how the spies helped General Lafayette in the Siege of Yorktown. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES OF PHILADELPHIA. The story of how the young spies helped the Continental Army at Valley Forge. By James Otis.

THE BOY SPIES OF FORT GRISWOLD. The story of the part they took in its brave defence. By William P. Chipman.

THE BOY SPIES OF OLD NEW YORK. The story of how the young spies prevented the capture of General Washington. By James Otis.

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For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers. A.L. BURT COMPANY. 114-120 East 23d Street. New York.

THE END