“And so am I!” cried Uncle Wiggily from inside the trunk. For the banging down of the lid had awakened him.
“Can’t you get out?” asked the rat. “Try to lift up the lid. I’ll help you.”
Uncle Wiggily tried, and so did the hungry rat, but the trunk cover had locked itself when it fell down, and Uncle Wiggily could not get out.
“Oh, I shall smother in here!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “Help! Help!”
“I’ll run downstairs and get the key from Nurse Jane,” the rat said. “Then I can let you out.” But Nurse Jane had gone to the store, and the rat could not find the key. Up to the attic he ran again, saying: “Oh, Uncle Wiggily, what shall I do? I can’t get the trunk key to let you out!”
“Oh, dear!” cried the rabbit gentleman. “I must get out! I am smothering in here.”
“Ha! I know what I can do!” suddenly cried the rat! “I can gnaw a hole in the trunk, and you can crawl out that way!”
So the hungry rat, with his strong teeth, quickly gnawed a hole in the side of the trunk, and Uncle Wiggily hopped out just before he smothered, so it was all right. Then he took the trunk downstairs, mended the rat hole in it and gave the kind rat something to eat, for the rat had not in the least meant to close down the trunk lid, you see.
Then Nurse Jane came back and packed away Uncle Wiggily’s clothes in the moth stuff, and the old rabbit gentleman tied up in bundles the toys he intended giving to the little animal boys, and that’s the end of this story. But, if the ice water pitcher doesn’t go to sleep under the gas stove and make the oven sneeze, when the rice pudding tickles the baked potatoes, I’ll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily going to school.