anxious like.

"I only hope the chimney hasn't turned a
somersault, and that the roof is not trying to
play tag with the back steps," went on Miss
Fuzzy Wuzzy, a bit scared like.

"I'll go see what it is," offered Uncle Wiggily,
and as he went to the front door there, on
the piazza, he saw Billie Wagtail, the little goat boy.

"Oh, good morning, Uncle Wiggily," spoke
Billie, politely. "Here's a note for you. I just
brought it."

"And did you bring all that noise with you?"
Mr. Longears wanted to know.

"Well, yes, I guess I did," Billie said, sort of
bashful like and shy as he wiggled his horns.
"I was seeing how fast I could run, and I ran
down hill and got going so lickity-split like that
I couldn't stop. I fell right up your front
steps, rattle-te-bang!"

"I should say it was rattle-te-bang!" laughed
Uncle Wiggily. "But please don't do it again, Billie."

"I won't," promised the goat boy. "Grandpa
Goosey Gander gave me that note to leave for
you on my way to the store for my mother.
And now I must hurry on," and Billie jumped
off the porch and skipped along through the
Woodland trees as happy as a huckleberry pie
and a piece of cheese.

"What was it all about?" asked Nurse Jane,
when Uncle Wiggily came in.

"Oh, just Billie Wagtail," answered the
bunny uncle. "He brought a note from
Grandpa Goosey, who wants me to come over
and see him. I'll go. He has the epizootic,
and can't get out, so he wants some one to talk
to and to play checkers with him."

Off through the woods went Uncle Wiggily
and he was almost at Grandpa Goosey's house
when he heard some voices talking. One voice said:

"Oh, dear! How thirsty I am!"

"And so am I!" said another.

"Well, children, I am sorry," spoke a third
voice, "but I cannot give you any water. I am
thirsty myself, but we cannot drink until it
rains, and it has not rained in a long, long time."

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried the
other voices again. "How thirsty we are!"

"That's too bad," thought Uncle Wiggily.
"I would not wish even the bad fox to be thirsty.
I must see if I can not be of some help."

So he peeked through the bushes and saw some trees.

"Was it you who were talking about being
thirsty?" asked the rabbit gentleman, curious like.

"Yes," answered the big voice. "I am a horse
chestnut tree, and these are my children," and
the large tree waved some branches, like fingers,
at some small trees growing under her.