They'll be slipping off all the while."
"So they will," spoke Uncle Wiggily. "Shoes without buttons are like
lollypops without sticks, you can't do anything with them."
"But what am I going to do?" asked Nannie, while tears came into her
eyes and splashed up on her horns. "I do want so much to go to that
party."
"And I want you to," said Uncle Wiggily. "Let me think a minute."
So he thought and thought, and then he looked off through the woods and
he saw a queer tree not far away. It was a sycamore tree, with broad
white patches on the smooth bark, and hanging down from the branches
were lots of round balls, just like shoe buttons, only they were a sort
of brown instead of black. The balls were the seeds of the tree.
"Ha! The very thing!" cried the bunny uncle.
"What is?" asked Nannie.
"That sycamore, or button-ball tree," answered the rabbit gentleman.
"I can get you some new shoe buttons off that, Nannie, and sew them on
your shoes."
"Oh, if you can, that will be just fine!" cried the little goat girl.
"For when the buttons came off my new shoes they flew every which
way--I mean the buttons did--and I couldn't find a single one."
"Never mind," Uncle Wiggily kindly said. "I'll sew on some of the
buttons from the sycamore tree, and everything will be all right."
With a thorn for a needle, and some long grasses for thread, Uncle
Wiggily soon sewed the buttons from the sycamore, or button-ball, tree
on Nannie's new shoes, using the very smallest ones, of course.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146