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Wesley Wigglesworth and the three Easter baskets.

Wesley Wigglesworth was an Easter rabbit who lived in Wisteria Woods near Butterbury. Every year he delivered Easter baskets to the children in West Butterbury. He never missed a house, and he was never late. Wesley Wigglesworth was a very dependable rabbit.

One Easter Eve, Wesley was hopping through Wisteria Woods with three Easter baskets. He carried one in his left paw and two in his right paw. The baskets were very heavy as they were full of stuffed animals, games, balls, crayons, fruit, and other Easter presents. Wesley had already delivered ninety-two Easter baskets, and he was simply dog-tired. He was looking forward to a hot cup of carrot soup and his nice warm bed.

Presently, three of his friends came up the lane--Randy Raccoon, Gracie Groundhog, and March Hare.

"Hello, Wesley," said Randy. "You look weary."

"I am," Wesley replied. "Eastertime for Easter rabbits is nothing but rush, rush, rush. Thank goodness these baskets are my last three deliveries."

"We're not doing anything special," said Gracie. "Let us deliver them for you."

"Please, Wesley," said March Hare. "I've always thought it might be jolly to be an Easter rabbit."

"Me too," said Randy.

Wesley wiggled his nose and thought a moment. He thought of his tired legs and paws. He thought of hot carrot soup. He thought of his nice warm bed. And then he thought that maybe just this once it would not matter if a raccoon, a groundhog, and a March hare delivered his last three baskets.

So Wesley handed a basket to each of his friends. He thanked them for their help. "Please be very careful with them," he said. "The children will be very disappointed if they don't receive their baskets."

"You can count on us, Wesley," his friends promised. Then they scurried off toward West Butterbury.

Wesley Wigglesworth hustled back to his hutch. He snuggled down in his easy chair and sipped a hot cup of carrot soup. But as he sipped he began to feel uneasy. He wondered if he had done the right thing. Delivering baskets was his responsibility. The children counted on him. What if Randy, Gracie, and March Hare bungled the job?

"Oh, fiddlesticks," Wesley muttered as he tottered off to bed. "There's nothing to worry about ... I hope."

The Easter bunny had just dropped off to a nice dreamy doze when March Hare bounded in. "Trouble!" cried March Hare. "Trouble, trouble!"

Wesley hopped out of bed. "What sort of trouble?" he asked.

Well, you know how scatterbrained we March hares can be. When I reached Marigold Meadow, I felt like laughing and leaping. So I did. And while I laughed and leapt, the presents tumbled out of the basket. They're scattered all over Marigold Meadow, and I can't find them, cried the March Hare.

Wesley sadly shook his head. "I should have known that I could not depend on a mad March hare," he groaned.

Just then Randy Raccoon and Gracie Groundhog rushed in. They also had trouble to report.

Randy had stopped to catch a catfish in Bullfrog Brook. During the scuffle, he had dropped his Easter basket into the water. And all the presents lay at the bottom of Bullfrog Brook.

Gracie was almost too ashamed to tell her story. She hung her head. "On the way to Butterbury, I nibbled," she confessed. "The Easter fruit was so tasty I soon began to gobble. I gobbled them all up except for the starfruits. I don't like starfruit."

"We're so sorry," said his friends.

"Don't be," Wesley sighed. "It's more my fault than yours. Delivering Easter baskets is my job. Weary or not, I should have kept at it until the job was done." Then he sent his friends home.

Fortunately, there was still time for the bunny to make things right. The sun was still asleep behind the hills. And Wesley had a few baskets and presents left.

Wesley Wigglesworth quickly packed up three Easter baskets. He carried one in his left paw and two in his right paw. He hopped through Wisteria Woods and didn't stop until he reached West Butterbury. He left the baskets at the proper houses. One, two, three.

"There," he said, "if you want something done and done right, do it yourself. It's the only way. That's what I think."

Then Wesley started for home just as the sun was slipping out of bed. "Happy Easter, sun," he called. "Have a nice day!"
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No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 1995 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

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Title Annotation:short story
Author:Watts, Frances B.
Publication:Children's Playmate
Date:Apr 1, 1995
Previous Article:Poppy's Chair.
Next Article:Backyard jungle.

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