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Little Jack Rabbit and Chippy Chipmunk

THE SONG OF PROMISE

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Wintertime, you'll soon be going, With your cold winds, blowing, blowing, And your gray clouds snowing, snowing. Soon the warm South Wind will sing, And the Blue Bells sweetly ring,— Then we'll know it's really Spring!

Mr. Merry Sun was up bright and early, and from his blue sky shone down with cheerful warmth. From his little room in the Old Bramble Patch Little Jack Rabbit awoke with a sweet song ringing in his ear. What was it? It sounded so sweet and clear that the little rabbit opened his window to listen. There it came again, across the Sunny Meadow like a song of promise. Somehow, it made the little rabbit happy, and jumping out of bed, he ate his breakfast in a hurry and then hopped over to the Old Rail Fence.

"Tir-rell-loo, tir-rell-loo!" sounded the music of a bird.

It was a beautiful whistle, clear as a silver bell, and the little rabbit took a hop, skip and jump, for somehow he felt happier than he had for a long, long time.

At first he thought it might be Jimmy Jay who was whistling. But then, he never whistled so sweetly as this. So the little rabbit hopped along, over the dry sodden grass which all winter had been pressed down tight by the heavy snow drifts, past the Big Chestnut Tree, where Chippy Chipmunk used to gather nuts, until, by and by, not so very far, he saw Blue Bird. Yes Sir. He saw the little Messenger of Spring. There he sat on the top rail of the Old Rail Fence singing away as if his heart were full of sunshine. And I guess it was, for how could he have sung so sweetly if it hadn't been?

"Spring is here, Spring is here, I'm the bearer of good cheer. Listen to my tale of joy, Little white furred Bunny Boy. Soon Miss South Wind will be here, And the violet will appear. Pussy Willow by the brook You will find if you but look. Tir-rell-loo! Tir-rell-loo. I'm the little bird of blue!"

And as the little rabbit looked over the Sunny Meadow it seemed as if under the warm rays of Mr. Merry Sun that the brown grass turned a tender green and the trees began to murmur in the wind the half forgotten song of summer.

"Hurray, Hurrah!" cried the little rabbit, and he hopped away to the Old Duck Pond to see if Granddaddy Bullfrog had come out of his hiding place way down in the muddy bottom. But, No Sireemam. Old Granddaddy Bullfrog wasn't going to catch his death of cold by coming out too soon, neither was Teddy Turtle. They knew better, for the ice was still floating in great pieces on the surface of the water and the old mill wheel hadn't yet begun to turn around.

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