nd, having been in a hospital, I can tell whether
you were or not."

So he looked Buddy over carefully, but there wasn't a thing the matter
with the little chap, except a tiny scratch on his nose.

"Weren't you awfully frightened?" asked Brighteyes of her brother. "It
was terrible!"

"No," he answered, "not much. And it wasn't so terrible when we got a
good dinner out of it. I wish I could find a cabbage every day."

"You had better put something on that scratch," cautioned Dr. Pigg. Then
he went on reading his paper, and Mrs. Pigg got out the salve bottle for
Buddy.

Well, it was two days after this that Brighteyes Pigg was out walking
along the road. She had been to the store for some carrots, and the
store man said he would send them right over, so the little girl guinea
pig didn't have to carry them.

Well, she was walking along, not thinking of much of anything in
particular, when suddenly something hopped out of the bushes in front of
her.

"My goodness! What's that?" cried Brighteyes, for she was a bit nervous
from having had a tooth pulled week before last.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear," spoke a soft voice. "It's only me," and if
there wasn't a great, big, motherly-looking hoptoad, out in the dusty
road, and the next moment if that toad didn't begin hopping up and down
as fast as she could hop.

"Why, whatever in the world are you doing?" asked Brighteyes Pigg, for
she noticed that the toad didn't seem to get anywhere; only hopping up
and down in the same place all the while.

"I'm jumping, my dear," answered the toad.

"So I see," remarked the little guinea pig girl, "but where are you
jumping to? You don't seem to be getting any place in particular."

"And I don't want to, my dear," went on the toad, and she never stopped
going up and down as fast as she could go. "I'm churning butter," she
went on, "and when one churns butter one must jump up and down you know.
That's the way to make butter. Don't your folks churn?" and then, for
the first time, Brighteyes noticed that the toad had a little wooden
churn, made from an old clothespin, fastened on her back.

"No, my mother doesn't churn," answered Brighteyes.

"Then I don't suppose you keep a cow," went on Mrs. Toad. "Neither do
we, but next door to us is the loveliest milk-weed you ever saw, and I
thought it a shame to see all the milk juice go to waste, so I churn it
every week. It makes very fine butter."

"I should think it might," answered