“I would, if I could find him,” answered the snipe. “You see, I only took his pipe in fun. He looked so funny sitting there smoking, that I thought I’d play a trick on him. So I flew away with his pipe, that’s because I’m a snipe. But I’ll give it back to him now. Is there something the matter with you?”
“Yes,” answered Uncle Wiggily, sadly, “I have run a big wooden splinter in my paw, and I can’t get it out, and I want to go to the Longtail dance and I can’t——”
“Of course you can!” cried the snipe bird, in a jolly voice. “With my sharp bill I can easily pull the splinter out of your paw. Let me get hold of it.”
Laying down the fat man’s pipe, the snipe soon pulled the splinter out of Uncle Wiggily’s paw.
“Now I can go to the dance!” cried the bunny uncle.
“And if you will show me where the fat man of Bombay is, I’ll take him back his pipe,” said the snipe.
“This way!” cried Uncle Wiggily. He showed the bird where the sad, fat man was sitting, and the snipe gave back the pipe.
“Oh, how good you are!” cried the fat man, striking a match, but only in fun, of course. “Now my troubles are over.”
“And so are mine—the sliver-trouble!” said the bunny uncle. Then the fat man of Bombay, which is in India, smoked his pipe, the snipe flew away and Uncle Wiggily and Nurse Jane went on to the dance and had a fine time.
And if the top of the stairs doesn’t go sit at the bottom, so the wax doll can’t get up to sleep in the cat’s cradle, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the tarts.