Uncle Wiggily's Automobile

by Howard Roger Garis

Now Uncle Wiggily was always on the lookout to help his animal friends, but he did not know who this one could be.

"Still," said the rabbit gentleman to himself, "he is in trouble. Maybe a mosquito has bitten him. I'm going to see."

So Uncle Wiggily marched bravely up to the little house under the Christmas tree, and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" cried a voice. "But if you're a little animal girl, with a sick doll, or one that needs mending, you might as well go away and come back again. I'm head-over heels in work, and I'll never get through. In fact I can't work at all. Oh, such trouble as I am in!"

"Well, maybe I can help you," said Uncle Wiggily. "At any rate I have no doll that needs mending."

So into the little house he went, and what a queer sight he saw! There was Dr. Monkey Doodle, sitting on the floor of his shop, and scattered all about him were dolls—dolls—dolls!

All sorts of dolls—but not a good, whole, well doll in the lot. Some dolls had lost their wigs, some had swallowed their eyes, others had lost a leg, or both arms, or a foot.

One poor doll had lost all her sawdust, and she was as flat as a pancake. Another had dropped one of her shoe button eyes, and a new eye needed to be sewed in. One doll had stiff joints, which needed oiling, while another, who used to talk in a little phonograph voice, had caught such a cold that she could not speak or even whisper.

"My, what sort of a place is this?" asked Uncle Wiggily, in surprise.