nice one."

"So do I," Uncle Wiggily said, as he hopped off, leaning on his red,
white and blue stripped [Transcriber's note: striped?] rheumatism
crutch which Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out of a cornstalk.

The old rabbit gentleman had not gone very far before he met Dr. Possum
walking along in the woods, with his satchel of medicine on his tail,
for Dr. Possum cured all the ill animals, you know.

"What in the world are you doing, Dr. Possum?" asked Uncle Wiggily, as
he saw the animal doctor pulling some bark off a tree. "Are you going
to make a canoe, as the Indians used to do?"

"Oh, no," answered Dr. Possum. "This is a slippery elm tree. The
underside of the bark, next to the tree, and the tree itself, is very
slippery when it is wet. Very slippery indeed."

"Well, I hope you don't slip," said Uncle Wiggily, kindly.

"I hope so, too," Dr. Possum said. "But I am taking this slippery elm
bark to mix with some of the bitter medicine I have to give Billie
Wagtail, the goat boy. When I put some bark from the slippery elm tree
in Billie's medicine it will slip down his throat so quickly that he
will never know he took it."

"Good!" cried Uncle Wiggily, laughing. Then the bunny uncle went close
to the tree, off which Dr. Possum was taking some bark, and felt of it
with his paw. The tree was indeed as slippery as an icy sidewalk slide
on Christmas eve.