"Oh, my! Ouch! Oh, shingles!" cried Uncle Wiggily, as he stepped up over
the doorsill. "Oh, dear me, and a baseball bat! It's my rheumatism, as
usual. It's something awful, these days."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," cried Brighteyes Pigg.

"And so am I," added Buddy, and they all were, for that matter.

"Rheumatism, eh?" remarked Dr. Pigg, thoughtful-like.

"Yes," went on Uncle Wiggily, as he hobbled over to a chair. "In fact, I
came to see you about it, Doctor," and the old rabbit rubbed his leg
very, very softly.

"Ah! ha! Ahem!" exclaimed Dr. Pigg, as he puffed himself up, and looked
as important as possible. "Of course, I remember now. I sent word to you
that I had a new cure for rheumatism. I heard the doctors mention it in
the hospital, and I thought I would try it on you."

"That's very kind of you," said Uncle Wiggily, "and you can't try it
any too soon, for I am in great pain," and he made such a funny face,
with his nose wiggling, and his ears waving back and forth, like fans on
a hot night, and his eyes--one looking up and the other down--altogether
it was so funny that Buddy and his sister wanted to laugh, only they
didn't, for they knew it wouldn't be polite, and might hurt Uncle
Wiggily's feelings.

"I will have some medicine for you in a jiffy!" exclaimed Dr. Pigg; a
jiffy, you know, being almost as quick as half a wink.