CHAPTER V
UNCLE WIGGILY AND TOMMIE TINKER’S DOG
“Uncle Wiggily, here’s a letter for you,” called Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, to the rabbit gentleman, one morning, as he sat in the easy chair in his hollow-stump bungalow. “The postman bird just left it as he flew past.”
“A letter for me!” exclaimed the bunny uncle, as he opened and read it. “That’s nice. It’s from Grandfather Goosey Gander. He wants me to come over and play checkers with him. He’s so lonesome.”
“But you can’t go!” cried Nurse Jane, tying her tail up in a knot, for she was going to sweep and dust, and she did not want to step on herself. “You can’t go, because you said your rheumatism hurt you so.”
“Oh, I guess I can manage to get over to see Grandpa by limping on the nice red, white and blue-striped rheumatism crutch, which you so kindly gnawed for me out of a corn-stalk,” spoke Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll try, anyhow, for I haven’t seen Grandpa Goosey in nearly a week. I dare say I can get over there all right. It’s a nice day.”
“Well, I wish you wouldn’t go,” said Nurse Jane, slowly, making her whiskers dance up and down. “I’m sure something will happen.”
“Oh, nonsensicalness!” laughed Uncle Wiggily, as he went out of the bungalow. Over the fields and through the woods he roamed, and he had to rest several times on his crutch, for the rheumatism hurt him more than he thought it would.
“But I’ll get there all right,” he said. No sooner had he spoken, however, than all at once his crutch slid on a piece of slippery-elm bark, and Uncle Wiggily fell down. He did not hurt himself much, for he sat down on a pile of soft, dried leaves. But when the bunny uncle arose, and tried to walk on his crutch, he could not, as it was cracked and splintered.
“If I lean my weight on it the crutch will break,” said Uncle Wiggily, sadly, “and I can’t walk without leaning on it. Oh, dear! What shall I do?”
Then, as he stood there in the woods, he heard a voice calling: