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Maud established herself with great satisfaction, and Tom owned that a silk apron was nicer than a fuzzy cushion. "Do you like it?" she asked, after a few strokes over the hot forehead, which she thought was fevered by intense application to Greek and Latin. "Not bad; play away," was the gracious reply, as Tom shut his eyes, and lay so still that Maud was charmed at the success of her attempt.
Well, he was staggering along with the big apple and also his bag of cornmeal, but his brother was going along much more easily, when, all of a sudden, out from the bushes sprang the fuzzy fox. "Ah ha!" he cried. "This time I have good luck! Here are little pigs to make roast pork, and they have with them the apples for apple sauce. Oh, joy is me! Now for a fine dinner!"
Then he blinked twice at Dal, trustingly, and snuggled in comfortably against the Black Doctor's neck. Without a word Dal turned and walked out of the office. As he stepped down the corridor, he waited fearfully for the wave of desolation and loneliness he had felt before when Fuzzy was away from him. But there was no hint of those desolate feelings in his mind now.
Possum and Curly too, when the little piggie boy cried out: "Vaccinate him! Vaccinate him, Dr. Possum. That will make him so itchy that he can't bite us." "The very thing!" cried Dr. Possum, and before the big fuzzy fox could get out of the way Dr.
After a couple more tries, however, he got it, and began throwing things in. In a few minutes, he had everything back in except a brightly colored plastic cartridge box and a wide-mouthed bottle with a screw cap. He held these up and said, "Yeek?" "Yes, you can have them. Here; let Pappy Jack show you something." He showed Little Fuzzy how the box could be opened and shut.
"As your name is signed to all these letters, Captain Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, perhaps you will deign to explain to us what it all means." Cap'n Sproul arose and then sat down; arose and sat down again. He tried to speak, but only a husky croak came forth. Something seemed to have crawled into his throat something fuzzy and filling, that would not allow language to pass.
They seemed, somehow, to savor the atmosphere, moving about like solemn, fuzzy overseers as the work progressed through the summer. Pete Farnam thought that they had even tried to warn the people about the winter. But the colonists couldn't understand, of course. Not until later. The Dusties became a standing joke, and were tolerated with considerable amusement until the winter struck.
One Little Fuzzy in the bedroom was just fine; five and a Baby Fuzzy were a little too much of a good thing. They were swarming over the bed, Baby and all, to waken him the next morning. The next morning he made a steel chopper-digger for each of them, and half a dozen extras for replacements in case more Fuzzies showed up.
But it's cold to-day!" exclaimed Uncle Wiggily Longears, the nice rabbit gentleman, as he came down to breakfast in his hollow-stump bungalow one morning. "It is very cold." "Indeed it is," said Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy, the muskrat lady housekeeper, as she put the hot buttered cabbage cakes on the table. "If you go out you had better wear your fur coat." "I shall," spoke the bunny uncle.
And, my God, wait till you see what she was carrying." Gerd came into sight, the fourth Fuzzy struggling under one arm and a little kitten, black with a white face, peeping over the crook of his other elbow. He was too stunned with disappointment to look at it with more than vague curiosity. "They aren't our Fuzzies, Gerd. I never saw any of them before." "Jack, are you sure?"
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