Yellow Rock. Goodwife Mole was just serving dinner when he entered the neat little home, and Doctor Mole noted that the food was very plain. It smelled so good! That soup! Would he have a bowlful? Well, he hadn’t come for dinner, but perhaps. . . just a little. . . In a few seconds the three Moles were eating and laughing merrily, all pain forgotten.
»I see my advice worked,« ventured Old Mole. »What could have been the cause of your illness, I wonder?«
»Sounds like my good man’s,« said Goodwife Mole. »Of course he crunched too many little bones. Even in his sleep his dreams bothered him, reminding him of his broken promise.«
»Dream!« gasped the Doctor, »what dream?«
Old Mole recounted his dream of the teeth. Doctor Mole was silent a moment, then he said, »I, too, had a dream before I awoke with my toothache.
