"Well, they didn't mean anything wrong," Uncle Wiggily kindly said.
Then he called; "Toodle! Noodle! Is any of my butter left?"
"Your butter?" cried Noodle, surprised like.
"Was that your butter?" asked Toodle. "Oh, please forgive us! We
thought no one wanted it, and we took it to grease the log so we could
slide down. It was as good as sliding down a muddy, slippery bank of
mud into the lake."
"We used all your butter," spoke Noodle. "Every bit."
"Oh, dear! That's too bad!" Uncle Wiggily said. "It is now after 6
o'clock and all the stores will be closed. How can I get more?" And
he looked at the butter the beaver boys had spread on the tree. It
could not be used for bread, as it was all full of bark.
"Oh, how can I get some good butter for Nurse Jane?" asked the bunny
uncle sadly.
"Ha! I will give you some," spoke a voice high in the air.
"Who are you?" asked Uncle Wiggily, startled.
"I am the butternut tree," was the answer. "I'll drop some nuts down
and all you will have to do will be to crack them, pick out the meats
and squeeze out the butter. It is almost as good as that which you buy
in the store."
"Good!" cried Uncle Wiggily, "and thank you."
Then the butter tree rattled down some butternuts, which Uncle Wiggily
took home, and Nurse Jane said the butter squeezed from them was very
good.
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