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 Dentist Mole lived beside Red Rock on the other side of the clearing, but Old Mole tore across the space without stopping to catch his breath. He darted into Doctor Mole’s and sank into the first chair, howling so loudly that the dentist could scarcely get reason or sense from him. After every tooth was looked at carefully, Doctor Mole shook his head.

»This is really very strange,« he said. »There’s not a bad tooth in your head, sir. You must have been bad to your own teeth. Did you crunch anything not intended for Mole and molar teeth?«

Poor Old Mole! He confessed at last, telling Doctor Mole of the birds he had caught and the ones he intended getting, as well as the tiny bunnies down in the cornfield. The dentist listened carefully, looked very wise, and asked him just where those birds and rabbits lived. At last he said,

»My good friend, you must go home at once and go to bed. Yes, right to bed. No breakfast, mind, but for dinner you might have a little noodle soup and a handful of mushrooms. For supper, just a few early raspberries. Perhaps a stewed apple. But remember, no meat. NO MEAT.«

»Oh, I’ll eat whatever you say, Doctor, but must I stay in bed?« wailed poor Old Mole.

»Whatever you, [sic] do, don’t get OUT of bed,« said Doctor Mole sternly. »Stay there till to-morrow, then come over and see me again.«

As soon as the poor sick Old Mole disappeared beyond the pine tree, Doctor Mole chuckled to himself. At last he had learned where the nest was hidden in the clump of willows. At last he had learned where the young rabbits romped through the cornfield. He cared never a bit for his patient, but he did care for the fine feast he looked forward to having by himself. That is why he ordered Old Mole to bed. He wanted no interruptions in the marauding expeditions.

Early next morning, Old Mole went to see Doctor Mole, happy that his aches and pains had completely disappeared, and willing to pay whatever the dentist asked. When he entered the office, there sat Doctor Mole, his head bound in poultices and mufflers, his eyes red with pain, and his throat swollen and sore. He never looked at Old Mole, but kept groaning and moaning, »My tooth! My teeth! My tooth!«

Old Mole was amazed. Who ever heard of a doctor being sick! He tried to comfort him, and finally decided to give him the advice he had taken.

»My good friend,« he said, »you must go to bed at once. For dinner, eat sparingly of noodle soup; for supper, take a handful of raspberries, and end up the day with an apple. Remember, no meat, and when you get out of bed to-morrow, step over and see me.« He was so very serious that even the sick Doctor Mole smiled at him. Yet for all that, he took the advice.

The following morning, Doctor Mole felt so well he put on his best black coat, slipped a golden daisy in his buttonhole, and went across the clearing to