But his
valise fell to the bottom. However, he managed to pull himself up on the
ground, though his rheumatism hurt him, and soon he was safe once more.
"Oh, my valise, with all my clothes in it!" he cried, as he looked down
into the hole, which had been covered over with loose leaves and dirt so
he couldn't see it before falling in. "I wonder how I can get my things
back again?" he went on.
Then he looked up, and in a tree, not far from him, he saw something
bright and yellow, shining like gold.
"Ah, ha!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "At last I have found the pot of gold,
even if the rainbow isn't here. That is yellow, and yellow is the color of
gold. Now my fortune is made. I will get that gold and go back home."
So, not worrying any more about his valise down the trap-hole, Uncle
Wiggily hopped over to the tree to get what he thought was a big bunch of
yellow gold. But as he came closer, he saw that the gold was moving about
and fluttering, though not going very far away.
"That is queer gold," thought the old gentleman rabbit. "I never saw
moving gold before. I wonder if it is a good kind."
Then he went a little closer and he heard a voice crying.
"Why, that is crying gold, too," he said. "This is very strange."
Then he heard some one calling:
"Oh, help! Will some one please help me?"
"Why, this is most strange of all!" the rabbit cried.
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