an rabbit. "Let us see what's
the trouble," he went on, and he put his strongest spectacles over his
nose and he looked at the cut in Alice's foot. Then he cried:

"Oh, I should say that was a cut! Oh, my, yes! No doubt about it whatever!
But there, don't cry," he added, for he saw some tears running down
Alice's yellow bill. "I'll fix it for you."

So he got some nice, soft leaves, and he tied them on her sore foot with
some stout grass. Then she felt better, but she couldn't walk, and she
didn't know how she was ever going to get home. So she asked Uncle
Wiggily.

"Why, the easiest thing in the world!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "All I have to
do is to say a little verse, and I'll think of a way." So he said this
little verse:

"Wiggily, waggily, woggily wome,
How shall I get Alice home?
She has hurt herself quite much
And she'll have to use my crutch."

Of course, Uncle Wiggily knew that wasn't a very good verse, but it was
the best he could do.

"You shall use my cornstalk crutch, that Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy made for
me," he went on. "It will be just the thing."

"Won't you need it?" asked Alice, very politely.

"No," said Uncle Wiggily. "My rheumatism is much better to-day. You may
have it," and he fitted it under Alice's wing, and she could walk pretty
well, not having to use her sore foot.

Then that kind old rabbit scraped up all the cornmeal, and he put some in
his big left ear and some in his big right ear, because the bag was
broken, and he carried the dented butter, which wasn't hurt the least
mite.

Then they started for the duck pen and they reached it safely, Alice
limping along as well as she could. And Uncle Wiggily told Mamma
Wibblewobble about the accident, after he had emptied his left ear and
his right ear of the cornmeal and had handed over the dented butter. Dr.
Possum was called in to put some salve on Alice's foot, and she was soon
better.

Now that's all to-night, but, if the moving man doesn't take my typewriter
away, I shall tell you to-morrow night about Jimmie in a tall tree.

STORY XXIII

JIMMIE IN A TALL TREE

It had rained in the morning, and of course the grounds were too slippery
and wet to play ball. That is, they were for Sammie Littletail and Billie
and Johnnie Bushytail, but naturally Jimmie Wibblewobble, the boy duck,
and Bully, the boy frog, would not have minded the wet the least bit. But
there wasn't any ball game, and so Jimmie was play