“Now I guess I’d better take you the rest of the way to the Wibblewobble house in this airship, then you won’t get stuck in the mud again,” said Uncle Wiggily, kindly.
“I guess so,” said Dr. Possum. And when he reached Jimmie’s house he soon cured the duck boy. Then Mrs. Wibblewobble helped wash the mud off the animal physician, and Dr. Possum rode home again in Uncle Wiggily’s airship.
“Airships are better and more useful than I thought,” said Dr. Possum, as he got out.
“You are just like Grandfather Goosey Gander,” said Uncle Wiggily with a laugh. “You have changed your mind.”
So that’s how the rabbit gentleman helped his friend, and on the next page, if the man beating rugs in our back yard doesn’t put the clothes post in his pocket and take it away for an umbrella handle, I’ll tell you about Uncle Wiggily and the moth balls.
STORY VII
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE MOTH BALLS
“There it goes! Get it!” suddenly cried Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady, one night, making a jump up from the rocking chair where she was sitting, sewing up the holes in the coffee strainer.
“My goodness me sakes alive and some cheese pudding!” cried Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, who was reading the evening paper in his hollow stump bungalow near the underground house. “Have you dropped your ball of yarn, Nurse Jane, or did you see Jilly Longtail, the mousie?”
“Neither one,” answered Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, who kept house for Uncle Wiggily. “Oh, there’s another! Hit it quick before it gets upstairs!” she cried, making a grab for something in the air.
“Well, this is certainly surprising!” Uncle Wiggily exclaimed. “I see nothing!”