You see this was the same Uncle Wiggily, of whom I have told you in the
Bedtime Books--the very same Uncle Wiggily. He was an Uncle to Sammie and
Susie Littletail, the rabbit children, and also to Billie and Johnnie
Bushytail, the squirrel boys, and to Alice and Lulu and Jimmie
Wibblewobble, the duck children, and I have written for you, books about
all those characters. Now I thought I would write something just about
Uncle Wiggily himself, though of course I'll tell you what all his nephews
and nieces did, too.

Well, when Uncle Wiggily felt that sharp pain, he stood still for a
moment, and wondered what could have happened.

"Yes, I'm almost sure it was a tack," he said. "I must pick it up so no
one else will step on it."

So Uncle Wiggily looked on the floor, but there was no tack there, only
some crumbs from a sugar cookie that Susie Littletail had been eating the
night before, when her uncle had told her a go-to-sleep story.

"Oh, I know what it was; it must have been my rheumatism that gave me the
pain!" said the old gentleman rabbit as he looked for his red, white and
blue crutch, striped like a barber pole. He found it under the bed, and
then he managed to limp to the window. Surely enough, the sun was shining.

"I'll certainly have to do something about this rheumatism," said Uncle
Wiggily as he carefully shaved himself by looking in the glass. "I guess
I'll see Dr. Possum."

So after breakfast, when Sammie and Susie had gone to school, Dr. Possum