"Oh, dear! Whatever shall I do?" cried Alice again. "I—I can't walk on my sore foot, and I can't carry the cornmeal and the butter! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! My foot's bleeding, too!" and, sure enough it was. Poor Alice! How sorry I feel for her.
"Ah, if only the fairy prince would appear now," she went on. "He would cause a golden chariot to take me home!"
You see, Alice hadn't gotten over being romantic, even if she had cut her foot. Oh, my, no, and a diamond earring besides!
Well, as true as I'm telling you, no sooner had she made that wish about the fairy prince than a voice called out:
"Who is crying? Does any one need help?"
"Yes," replied Alice, "I do. I've cut my foot, and I've dented the butter in several places, but that doesn't matter much, and I've spilled the cornmeal."
"Oh, what a lot of troubles for one poor little duck girl!" cried the voice again. "Perhaps, I can help you," and who should come along but Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice old gentleman rabbit. "Let us see what's the trouble," he went on, and he put his strongest spectacles over his nose and he looked at the cut in Alice's foot. Then he cried:
"Oh, I should say that was a cut! Oh, my, yes! No doubt about it whatever! But there, don't cry," he added, for he saw some tears running down Alice's yellow bill. "I'll fix it for you."
So he got some nice, soft leaves, and he tied them on her sore foot with some stout grass. Then she felt better, but she couldn't walk, and she didn't know how she was ever going to get home. So she asked Uncle Wiggily.
"Why, the easiest thing in the world!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "All I have to do is to say a little verse, and I'll think of a way." So he said this little verse: