"It is talking gold.
Perhaps there is a fairy about."
"Oh, I only wish there was one!" cried the yellow object in the tree. "If
I saw a fairy I'd ask her to set me free."
"What's that? Who are you?" asked the rabbit.
"Oh, I'm a poor little yellow bird," was the answer, "and I'm caught in a
string-trap that some boys set in this tree. There is a string around my
legs and I can't fly home to see my little ones. I got into the trap by
mistake. Oh! can't you help me? Climb up into the tree, Uncle Wiggily, and
help me!"
"How did you know my name was Uncle Wiggily?" asked the rabbit.
"I could tell it by your ears--your wiggling ears," was the answer. "But
please climb up and help me."
"Rabbits can't climb trees," said Uncle Wiggily. "But I will tell you what
I'll do. I'll gnaw the tree down with my sharp teeth, for they are sharp,
even if I am a little old. Then, when it falls, I can reach the string,
untie it, and you will be free."
So Uncle Wiggily did this, and soon the tree fell down, but the golden
yellow bird was on a top branch and didn't get hurt. Then the old
gentleman rabbit quickly untied the string and the bird was out of the
trap.
"I cannot thank you enough!" she said to the rabbit. "Is there anything I
can do for you to pay you?"
"Well, my valise is down a hole," said Uncle Wiggily, "but I don't see how
you can get it up.
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