Uncle Wiggily's Story Book. Howard R. Garis

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      Story I. Uncle Wiggily’s Toothache

      Once upon a time there was a boy who had the toothache. It was not a very large tooth that pained him, and, really, it was quite surprising how such a very large ache got into such a small tooth. At least that is what the boy thought.

      “But I’m not going to the dentist and let him pull it!” cried the boy, holding his hand over his mouth. “And I’m not going to let anybody in this house pull it, either! So there!” He ran and hid himself in a corner. Girls aren’t that way when they have the toothache—only boys.

      “Perhaps the tooth will not need pulling,” said Mother, as she looked at the boy and saw how much pain he had.

      “That’s so!” exclaimed Grandma, who was trying to think of some way in which to help the boy. “Maybe the dentist can make a little hole in your tooth, Sonny, and fill the hole with cement, as the man filled the hole in our sidewalk, and then all your pain will stop.”

      “No, I’m not going to the dentist! I’m not going, I tell you!” cried Sonny. And I think he stamped his foot on the floor, the least little bit. It may have been that he saw a tack sticking up, and wanted to hammer it down with his shoe. But I am afraid it was a stamp of his foot; and afterward that boy was sorry.

      But, anyhow, his tooth kept on aching, and it was the kind called “jumping,” for it was worse at one time than another. Sometimes the boy thought the pain jumped from one side of his tongue to the other side, and again it seemed that it leaped away up to the roof of his mouth.

      The toothache even seemed to turn somersaults and peppersaults, and once it appeared to jump over backward. But it never completely jumped away, which is what the boy wished it would do.

      “You’d better let me take you to the dentist’s,” said his Mother. “He’ll either fix the tooth so it won’t ache any more, or he’ll take it out, so a new tooth will grow in. And, really, the pain the dentist may cause will only be a little one, and it will be all over in a moment. While your tooth may ache all night.”

      “No, I’m not going to the dentist! I’m not going!” cried Sonny boy, and then again he acted just as if there were a tack in the carpet that needed hammering down with his foot.

      Now it was about this time that Uncle Wiggily Longears, the bunny rabbit gentleman, was hopping from his hollow stump bungalow in the woods to go look for an adventure. But, as yet, Uncle Wiggily knew nothing about the boy with the toothache. That came a little later.

      “Are you going to be gone long?” asked Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, of the bunny gentleman.

      “Only just long enough to have a nice adventure,” answered Mr. Longears, and away he hopped on his red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch, with his pink, twinkling nose held in front of him like the headlight on a choo-choo train.

      Now, as it happened, Uncle Wiggily’s hollow stump bungalow was not far from the house where the Toothache Boy lived, though the boy had never seen the rabbit’s home. He had often wandered in the woods, almost in front of the bunny’s bungalow, but, not having the proper sort of eyes, the boy had never seen Uncle Wiggily. It needs very sharp eyes to see the creatures of the woods and fields, and to find the little houses in which they live.

      At any rate the boy had never noticed Uncle Wiggily, though the bunny gentleman had often seen the boy. Many a time when you go through the woods the animal folk look out at and see you, when you never even know they are there.

      And pretty soon Uncle Wiggily hopped right past the house where the Toothache Boy lived. And just then, for about the tenth time, Mother was saying:

      “You had better let me take you to the dentist and have that toothache stopped, Sonny.”

      “No! No! I don’t want to! I—I’m a—a—I guess it will stop itself,” said the boy, hopeful like.

      Uncle Wiggily, hiding in the bushes in front of the boy’s house, sat up on his hind legs and twinkled his pink nose. By a strange and wonderful new power which he had, the bunny gentleman could hear and understand boy and girl talk, though he could not speak it himself. So it was no trouble at all for Uncle Wiggily to know what that boy was saying.

      “He’s afraid; that’s what the boy is,” said the bunny uncle to himself, leaning on his red, white and blue striped crutch. “He’s afraid to go to the dentist and have that tooth filled, or pulled. Now that’s very silly of him, for the dentist will not hurt him much, and will soon stop the ache. I wonder how I can make that boy believe this? His mother and grandmother can’t seem to.”

      For Mr. Longears heard Mother and Grandma trying to get that Toothache Boy to let them take him to the dentist. But the boy only shook his head, and made believe hammer tacks in the carpet with his foot, and he held his hand over his mouth. But, all the while, the ache kept aching achier and achier and jumping, leaping, tumbling, twisting, turning and flip-flopping—almost like a clown in the circus.

      “No! No! I’m not going to the dentist!” cried the boy.

      Then Uncle Wiggily had an idea. He could look in through the window of the house and see the boy. In front of the window was a grassy place, near the edge of the wood, and close by was an old stump, shaped almost like the easy chair in a dentist’s office.

      “I know what I’ll do,” said Uncle Wiggily. “I’ll make believe I have the toothache. I’ll go get Dr. Possum and I’ll sit down in this stump chair. Then I’ll tell Dr. Possum to make believe pull out one of my teeth.”

      “I s’pose if Nurse Jane were here she might ask what good that would do?” thought Uncle Wiggily. “But I think it will do a lot of good. If that boy sees me, a rabbit gentleman, having a tooth pulled, which is what he will think he sees, it may make him brave enough to go to the dentist’s. I’ll try it.”

      Away hopped Uncle Wiggily to Dr. Possum’s office.

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