But, by sort of looking around backward, Mr. Longears
could see no one--not even a fox.
"But what is it holding me?" he cried, as he tried again and again to
get loose, but could not.
"I am sorry to say I am holding you!" spoke a voice up over Uncle
Wiggily's head. "I am holding you fast!"
"Who are you, if you please?" asked the rabbit gentleman.
"I am the pine tree against which you leaned your back. And on my bark
was a lot of sticky pine gum. It is that which is holding you fast,"
the tree answered.
"Why--why, it's just like sticky flypaper, isn't it?" asked Uncle
Wiggily, trying again to get loose, but not doing so. "And it is just
like the time you held the bear fast for me."
"Yes, it is; and flypaper is made from my sticky pine gum," said the
tree. "I am so sorry you are stuck, but I did not see you lean back
against me until it was too late. And now I can't get you loose, for
my limbs are so high over your head that I can not reach them down to
you. Try to get loose yourself."
"I will," said Uncle Wiggily, and he did, but he could not get loose,
though he almost pulled out all his fur. So he cried:
"Help! Help! Help!"
Then, all of a sudden, along through the woods came Neddie Stubtail,
the little bear-boy, and Neddie had some butter, which he had just
bought at the store for his mother.
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