Sometimes Lulu was “it” and sometimes Uncle Wiggily would be tagged by the foot or wing of the duck girl, who was a sister to Alice and Jimmie Wibblewobble.

“Now for a last tag!” cried Uncle Wiggily when it was getting dark in the woods.  “I’ll tag you this time, Lulu, and then we must go home.”

“All right,” agreed Lulu, and she ran and flew so fast that Uncle Wiggily could hardly catch her to make her “it.”  And finally when Uncle Wiggily almost had his paw on the duck girl she flew right over a bush, and, before Uncle Wiggily could stop himself he had run into the bush until he was half way through it.

[Illustration:  Before Uncle Wiggily could stop himself he had run into the bush.]

But, very luckily, it was not a scratchy briar bush, so no great harm was done, except that Uncle Wiggily’s fur was a bit ruffled up, and he was tickled.

“I guess I can’t tag you this time, Lulu!” laughed the bunny uncle.  “We’ll give up the game now, and I’ll be ‘it’ next time when we play.”

“Ail right, Uncle Wiggily,” said Lulu.  “I’ll meet you here in the woods at this time tomorrow night, and I’ll bring Alice and Jimmie with me, and we’ll have lots of fun.  We’ll have a grand game of tag!”

“Fine!” cried the bunny uncle, as he squirmed his way out of the bush.

Then he went on to his hollow stump bungalow, and Lulu went on to her duck pen house to have her supper of corn meal sauce with watercress salad sprinkled over the sides.

As Uncle Wiggily was sitting down to his supper of carrot ice cream with lettuce sandwiches all puckered around the edges, Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy looked at him across the table, and exclaimed: 

“Why, Wiggy!  What’s the matter with you?”

“Matter with me?  Nothing, Janie!  I feel just fine!” he said.  “I’m hungry, that’s all!”

“Why, you’re all covered with red spots!” went on the muskrat lady.  “You are breaking out with the measles.  I must send for Dr. Possum at once.”

“Measles?  Nonsense!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily.  “I can’t have ’em again.  I’ve had ’em once.”

“Well, maybe these are the French or German mustard measles,” said the muskrat lady.  “You are certainly all covered with red spots, and red spots are always measles.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” asked Uncle Wiggily.

“You must go to bed at once,” said Nurse Jane, “and when Dr. Possum comes he’ll tell you what else to do.  Oh, my!  Look at the red spots!”

Uncle Wiggily was certainly as red-spotted as a polka-dot shirt waist.  He looked at himself in a glass to make sure.

“Well, I guess I have the measles all right,” he said.  “But I don’t see how I can have them twice.  This must be a different style, like the new dances.”

It was dark when Dr. Possum came, and when he saw the red spots on Uncle Wiggily, he said: 

“Yes, I guess they’re the measles all right.  Lots of the animal children are down with them.  But don’t worry.  Keep nice and warm and quiet, and you’ll be all right in a few days.”