Read Online Freddy Rides Again by Walter R. Brooks - Free Book Online Page B

expressed by unanimous vote in the secret meeting of our order, to induct Mr. Frederick Bean into the order, with the title of Exalted Honorary Vice-Horrible, and all the privileges and emoluments thereto appertaining?”
    â€œIt is, Your Dreadfulness,” said the rabbits.
    So No. 23 hopped to Freddy’s knee and reached up with his tin knife and tapped him on the shoulder. “Rise, Exalted Honorary Vice-Horrible!” he said solemnly.
    â€œIf I rise,” Freddy thought, “23 will fall on his face.” “But he didn’t say it. He got up slowly, so that 23 could jump down.
    â€œBrother Horribles,” he said, “I am deeply appreciative of the great honor which you have bestowed upon me. I will endeavor to abide by the rules of the order, and to be, when necessary, as horrible as possible. In a purely honorary capacity, of course. For I understand that an honorary office is—well, just an honor. There is nothing that I have to do.”
    â€œOh, nothing, of course,” said No. 23 quickly. “Although,” he went on after a slight pause, “we did hope that you might give us a little help in one matter.”
    â€œH’m,” said Freddy thoughtfully, “as a strictly honorary Vice Horrible, I doubt it if I would be allowed to—”
    â€œOh, quit it, will you, Freddy?” said 23. “We thought you’d be pleased at being asked to join.”
    â€œSo pleased that I’d agree to do a little work for you, hey?” Freddy said. “Oh, well, skip it. What is it you want?”
    â€œOh, I guess we went about this wrong, Freddy,” said 23. “We thought maybe making you an honorary officer, we’d kind of soften you up so you’d be willing to help us. But we really did want you to be one of us. Because we’re a lot bigger now, and we aren’t just out for fun—we’ve got a real job to do.” And he went on to say that all the rabbits in the countryside were disturbed about the foxhunters. The horses, galloping across fields, had smashed in a number of homes, and the hounds had dug up many more and they chased rabbits wherever they saw them. One of 23’s cousins had been chased away up beyond Tushville, and had been three days getting home again, and was still confined to his bed, speechless from shock. “I doubt if he’ll ever be the same rabbit again,” said 23 mournfully.
    â€œBut foxhounds chase foxes, not rabbits,” Freddy said.
    â€œOh, yeah?” said 23. “That’s what they tell you. But when those Margarines aren’t around they’ll chase rabbits or cats or woodchucks or—why, I’ve seen ’em even trying to dig a chipmunk out of a stone wall. Fine business for a full-grown hound!”
    â€œWell, what do you want me to do?” Freddy asked.
    â€œWe’re the Horrible Twenty now instead of the Horrible Ten,” said the rabbit. “So we need a new chant to go with our war dance. The old one—
    We are the Horrible Ten,
    Neither animals nor men—
    that doesn’t go any more. It has to be: We are the Horrible Twenty.”
    â€œH’m,” said Freddy. “Not near as good. But let me see. Twenty, plenty—guess there’s only one rhyme.
    â€œLet me see. ”
    We are the Horrible Twenty ,
    Of ferocity, boy! we’ve got plenty!
    Plenty, sufficient and lots!
    H’m; lots, knots, plots—” He went on slowly.
    â€œWe weave diabolical plots
    To capture our victims alive.
    And when we have caught four or five
    We sing and we yell and we dance and we haul
    Them down to the kitchen and chop them up small ,
    Add lemon and pepper and salt, and a dash
    Of Worcestershire sauce. For enemy hash
    Is the dish of all dishes that crowns all our wishes ,
    We eat it for breakfast and dinner and lunch,
    We munch and we crunch, we gobble and scrunch,
    We— ”
    â€œHey, wait a minute,” said 23. “This