“Your new red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch is ready for you,” went on Nurse Jane. “I gnawed it for you out of a fine large corn-stalk.”
Uncle Wiggily had broken his other crutch, if you will kindly remember, when he slipped as he was coming back from the store, where he went for Mrs. Wagtail, the goat lady. And it was so slippery that the rabbit gentleman never would have gotten home, only he rode on a Jack horse with the lady, who had rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, as I told you in the story before this one.
“Thank you for making me a new crutch, Nurse Jane,” spoke the bunny uncle. “If I go out I’ll take it.”
Then he went to sleep in his easy chair, but he was suddenly awakened by hearing the bungalow clock strike one. Then, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with his paws, Uncle Wiggily heard a thumping noise on the hall floor and a little voice squeaked out:
“Ouch! I’ve hurt my leg! Oh, dear!”
“My! I wonder what that can be? It seemed to come out of my clock,” spoke Mr. Longears.
“I did come out of your clock,” said some one.
“You did? Who are you, if you please?” asked the bunny uncle, looking all around. “I can’t see you.”
“That’s because I’m so small,” was the answer. “But here I am, right by the table. I can’t walk as my leg is hurt.”
Uncle Wiggily looked, and saw a little mouse, who was holding his left hind leg in his right front paw.