“Yes, indeed,” said Uncle Wiggily, and he felt sorry for the poor Wise Man. “But never mind,” went on the bunny uncle. “I know a monkey-doodle gentleman, who mends broken dolls. I’ll take Priscilla Spicecake Orangejuice to him, and he can fasten her eyes in again and glue on her wig.”
“Will you? Then please do!” said the Wise Man. “I’ll pay the monkey-doodle, and here is five cents extra for little Nannie. Tell her I’m sorry I borrowed her doll and I’ll never do it again.”
“All right,” cheerfully said Uncle Wiggily, “and don’t you try to scratch your eyes out, and in again.”
“I won’t,” promised the Wise Man. “Glasses are good enough for me.”
The monkey-doodle gentleman soon fixed Nannie’s doll as good as ever, so the eyes opened and shut, and the little goat girl was happy once more, when Uncle Wiggily brought back Priscilla Spicecake Orangejuice. Thus, you see, everything came out all right, as I generally try to make it.
And if the crazy quilt doesn’t jump into the rag bag and get lost so the pillow case has no place to sleep, when it comes home from the moving pictures, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the tailors.
CHAPTER XXV
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE TAILORS
“Well, where are you going this morning, Uncle Wiggily?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, of the rabbit gentleman, as he lifted his red, white and blue-striped rheumatism crutch down off the hat rack, and opened the front door.
“Oh, I’m just going out for a hop through the woods,” replied the bunny uncle. “Mother Goose said that Grandfather Goosey Gander was coming to pay her a visit to-day, and, as I haven’t seen him in some time, I thought I’d go over myself and have a little talk.”