“Help! Help! Help!” cried the lady, who had come out of the house with the red chimney.
“Ha! That sounds like trouble!” said Uncle Wiggily. “I think I had better hurry over there and see what it is all about.”
He hopped over toward the little house, and, when he reached it he saw that the little lady who was calling for help was Mother Goose herself.
“Oh, Uncle Wiggily!” exclaimed Mother Goose. “I am so glad to see you! Will you please go for help for me?”
“Why, certainly I will,” answered the bunny gentleman. “But what kind of help do you want; help for the kitchen, or a wash-lady help or——”
“Neither of those,” said Mother Goose. “I want help so Little Jack Horner can get his thumb out of the pie.”
“Get his thumb out of the pie!” cried Uncle Wiggily. “What in the world do you mean?”
“Why, you see it’s this way,” went on Mother Goose. “Jack Horner lives here. You must have heard about him. He is in my book. His verse goes like this:
“Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner,