"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. "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."