"Oh, ho! Mr. Tiger—the one I saw when I went to the circus with Baby Bunty!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily. "This is a tiger!"
"Yes, I am the striped tiger," answered the other animal. "And, oh, what trouble I am in!"
"What is the matter?" kindly asked the rabbit gentleman, for he could see that the tiger was limping and in pain.
"I ran a thorn in my foot," went on the black and yellow fellow, "and my eyes are so poor I can't see to pull it out."
"Perhaps I can," Uncle Wiggily said. "I have strong glasses."
So the bunny gentleman looked through his spectacles, and soon saw the thorn that was in the tiger's foot. It did not take Uncle Wiggily long to pull it out.
"Oh, thank you, so much!" growled the tiger, though not in a cross voice. "It serves me right, I suppose, for having run away from the circus."
"Did you run away, too, as the lion did?" asked Uncle Wiggily.
"Yes," answered the striped beast, "we ran away together—the lion, some other animals and myself. But now I'd be glad to run back again."
"The lion was," said Uncle Wiggily. "He was very glad to go back."