said Uncle Wiggily to himself, as
he found no bones broken. "I had a little slide, that's all. I must
bring Sammie and Susie Littletail here some day, and let them slide on
pine needle hill. Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the two squirrels,
would also like it, and so would Nannie and Billie Wagtail, my two goat
friends."

Uncle Wiggily was about to go on to the party when, as he looked at his
new coat he saw that it was all torn. In sliding down the slippery
pine needle hill the coat had caught on sticks and stones and it had
many holes torn in it, and it was also ripped here and there.

"Oh, dear me!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Oh, sorrow! Oh, unhappiness!
Now I'll have to go back to my hollow stump bungalow and put on my old
coat that isn't torn. For I never can wear my new one to the party.
That would never do! But the trouble is, if I go back home I'll be
late! Oh, dear, what trouble I am in!"

Now was the time for some of Uncle Wiggily's friends to help him in his
trouble, as he had often helped them. But, as he looked through the
woods, he could not see even a little mouse, or so much as a
grasshopper.

"The tailor bird would be just the one I'd like to see now," said the
rabbit uncle. "She could mend my torn coat nicely." For tailor birds,
yon know, can take a piece of grass, with their bill for a needle, and
sew leaves together to make a nest, almost as well as your mother can
mend a hole in your stocking.

But there was no tailor bird in the woods, and Uncle Wiggily did not
know what to do.

"I certainly do not want to be late to Grandpa Goosey's party," said
the bunny uncle, "nor do I want to go to it in a torn coat. Oh, dear!"

Just then he heard down on the ground near him, a little voice saying:

"Perhaps we could mend your coat for you, Uncle Wiggily."

"You. Who are you, and how can you mend my torn coat?" the bunny
gentleman wanted to know.

"We are some little black ants," was the answer, "and with the pine
needles lying on the ground--some of the same needles on which you
slipped--we can sew up your coat, with long grass for thread."

"Oh, that will be fine, if you can do it," spoke the bunny uncle. "Can
you?"

"We'll try," the ants said. Then, about fourteen thousand six hundred
and twenty-two black ants took each a long, sharp pine needle, and
threading it with grass, they began to sew up the rips and tears in
Uncle Wiggily's coat. And in places where they could not easily s