"Now open your mouth wide."
Dr. Whiskers twisted and pulled upon the hook. At last, out flew the ugly
thing.
"How did it happen?" he asked, wrapping the instrument carefully.
"I've been hoarse for years," croaked Grandpa Bull Frog as he wiped away
the tears. "Squire Cricket told me that red flannel cured his throat, so
when I saw some red flannel dangling from a line right over this log, I
grabbed it. I got it easily, and this cruel hook beside. The Giant boy has
gone away. I thank you kindly, Dr. Whiskers. Ahem! You might tell Mr.
Squeaky that I say his band played very fine music last evening."
"Better leave fish-hooks alone, hereafter, Grandpa Bull Frog," chuckled
Dr. Whiskers. "When you need red flannel, hop over to Wild Rose Cottage.
Granny fetched a good supply from Mrs. Giant's trunk."
[Illustration: Dr. Whiskers twisted and pulled upon the hook.]
"Grand-daddy!" called Wiggle from the grove. "I have the hornet's nest.
Isn't it big? We had a fight with the hornets. I ran away, but Buster and
Wink are chuck full of stingers. They want you to come quick. Buster is
howling real loud."
Dr. Grand-daddy trotted along the pine-needle path.
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