"Please tell her not to bother," whispered the lion. "I am not hungry and——"
"Is that thunder?" asked the muskrat lady, thrusting her head, tied up in a wet towel, from her bedroom window.
And when the muskrat lady saw the big lion she screamed.
"Pray do not be frightened, my dear Miss Fuzzy Wuzzy," the lion said. "I just came with Uncle Wiggily to inquire where I might find the circus, from which I foolishly ran away. But I'll toddle on, and not bother you, since you are ill."
"Oh, it isn't really any bother," spoke the muskrat lady. "I could get you a cup of tea. It was only your loud voice that startled me."
"I'm sorry," rumbled the lion, as gently as he could. "I'm afraid my voice is rather louder than the purr of a pussy cat. But I can't help it."
"Oh, of course not!" agreed Nurse Jane. "I wish I could ask you in, but our bungalow was not made for lions."
"I'll come in and get him something he can eat outside," offered Uncle Wiggily. "By that time some of the animal boys or girls, who know where the circus went, may come along, since you don't know, Nurse Jane."
"No, I am sorry to say I don't know," spoke the muskrat lady, as she went back to bed with her headache.