is more, you must go out in the woods and dig it yourself. That will
be almost as good for your Spring fever as the sassafras itself. So
hop out, and dig some of the roots."

"Oh, dear!" cried Uncle Wiggily, fussy like. "I don't want to. I'd
rather stay here in bed."

"But you can't!" cried Dr. Possum in his jolly voice. "Out with you!"
and he pulled the bed clothes off the bunny uncle so he had to get up
to keep warm.

"Well, I'll just go out and dig a little sassafras root to please him,"
thought Uncle Wiggily to himself, "and then I'll come back and stay in
bed as long as I please. It's all nonsense thinking I have to have
fresh root--the old is good enough."

"I do feel quite wretched and lazy like," said Uncle Wiggily to
himself, as he limped along on his red, white and blue-striped
barber-pole rheumatism crutch, that Nurse Jane had gnawed for him out
of a cornstalk. "As soon as I find some sassafras I'll pull up a bit
of the root and hurry back home and to bed."

Pretty soon the bunny uncle saw where some of the sassafras roots were
growing, with their queer three-pointed leaves, like a mitten, with a
place for your finger and thumb.

"Now to pull up the root," said the bunny uncle, as he dug down in the
ground a little way with his paws, to get a better hold.

But pulling up sassafras roots is not as easy as it sounds, as you know