"Chippy Chipmunk swallowed a cork," said Little Jack Rabbit. "And he'll swell up and bust in just a few minutes. Oh, dear, oh, dear. And it's all my fault."
"Well, I do see something," said Dr. Heron, squinting down the little chipmunk's throat. "My, but it's a long way down." And Dr. Heron looked very serious, very serious indeed.
"Now sit still and don't you sneeze.
Open wider, if you please;
Maybe I can pull it out
If you do not cry or pout."
Then he pushed down his long thin bill and pulled out the cork.
"Oh joy!" cried Chippy Chipmunk as soon as Dr. Heron let go of his tongue.
"I usually charge ten little fishes for an operation like this, but, seeing it's you, and I didn't have to come all the way over to your house, I'll ask only five," said the kind bird doctor.
When Little Jack Rabbit heard this he winked his tail and wagged his nose at the chipmunk, and the first thing you know away they went, leaving the doctor's bill unpaid, which wasn't a very nice thing to do. No indeed.
When we are well the doctor's bill
Is never even thought of, till
Old Mr. Malady comes by
With trembling hand and tearful eye.
We always should be square and true,
And pay our bills when they are due.
Perhaps then Mr. Malady
Will never bother you and me.