“Oh, you are so good!” she murmured, as she went to sleep.
“Pray do not mention it,” said Uncle Wiggily, politely, and then he hurried to the store for the yeast cake.
Now comes a little sad part to this story, but I will not make it any longer than I can possibly help.
About a week after this, Nurse Jane heard Uncle Wiggily groaning in his bed, and saying:
“Oh, dear! How ill I am. It’s that old rheumatism pain again! Please send for Dr. Possum.”
“I will,” said the muskrat lady. And when Dr. Possum came he said:
“Uncle Wiggily, you are very ill indeed. You have rheumatism fever, and you must take bitter medicine, and, since the weather is so warm, you must have some one fan you every day with a fan to cool you.”
“But who can do it?” asked the rabbit gentleman. “Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, my muskrat housekeeper, is too busy, all my animal children friends have to go to school, so they can graduate, and all my other friends are too busy. No one can come to fan me.”
“What about the electric fan on your airship?” asked Nurse Jane.
“Alas! that is broken,” said Uncle Wiggily, and he felt very ill indeed. He needed fanning then and there.