Well, they did all they could for him by putting his paws in mustard water and giving him sweet spirits of nitre, but it didn't seem to do any good.
"Yes, he is a very sick rabbit," said Dr. Possum, who came in the morning. "He ought to be home in bed, but we can't move him now. He'll have to stay here."
"Oh, the grasshopper and Old Dog Percival and I will take good care of him," said the red monkey, kindly.
"Yes, I guess you will," agreed Dr. Possum. So he left some bitter medicine for Uncle Wiggily and the old gentleman rabbit took it without even wrinkling up his nose--and it was very, very bitter--the medicine I mean, and not his nose.
"Oh, how hot I am!" cried Uncle Wiggily, as the sun got higher and higher in the sky and beat down on the house where the red monkey lived. "I wish I had some ice." Then he fell asleep.
"We will see if we can't find some," said the grasshopper, so he and the monkey and Old Dog Percival started off to look for an ice-house, leaving Uncle Wiggily asleep. Pretty soon he awakened.
"Oh, I wish I had an electric fan to cool me!" cried the poor sick old gentleman rabbit. "Oh, how hot I am! Oh, dear!"
Well, he kept getting hotter and hotter, and tossed to and fro on the bed, and he wished for ice, and ice-cream cones and all such cool things as those. Then, all of a sudden, when he was so warm he couldn't seem to stand it any longer he heard a little voice singing this song:
"Away up North in the ice and snow,
That's the place for you to go.