"I've broken one of my legs, Dr. Whiskers," cried Daddy Longlegs. "Can you
mend it for me, or must I limp on a cane the rest of my days?"
"Mend it? Of course I can," laughed Dr. Whiskers. "Let me catch my breath.
I hustled some and am puffing considerable. Now then for some splints and
a stout string. If you were younger, I'd rub in some cure-all salve and
wait for another leg to grow, as Sir Spider's has done. We'll take no
chances, however; I'll mend your broken leg."
Dr. Whiskers worked deftly away, setting the broken limb and wrapping it
neatly in splints and a white bandage. Now and then he whistled a bit of
Mammy's Lullaby, for he was happy in his work.
"It feels 'most as good as new; just a bit stiff," declared Daddy
Longlegs. "I don't know how we have managed all these years without a
doctor. Welcome to our village, Dr. Whiskers!"
"A beautiful village it is," replied Grand-daddy. "I like to spend my
summers near Pond Lily Lake. Now I must say good-day. Don't use that leg
for a few days and it will mend all right. No crutches for old Daddy
Longlegs this time."
That evening the whole family gathered at Gray Rock Bungalow.
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