WIGGLE-TAILS 
Uncle Jack and the children were sitting on the porch 
that evening after the rain. Suddenly he slapped his 
arm. “These mosquitoes seem to think that I am a picnic 
dinner. But that one will not bite me again,” he ex¬ 
claimed as he looked at a spot of blood on his arm. 
“Where did that blood come from?” asked Marylee. 
“It came from my arm,” Uncle Jack replied. “Mrs. 
Mosquito’s bill is hollow, and as sharp as a needle. When 
she stuck it into me, she sucked my blood through it, 
like you suck soda water through a straw.” 
“How do you know that it was Mrs. Mosquito?” asked 
Buddy. 
“Because it is Mrs. Mosquito who does all of the biting. 
Mr. Mosquito does not have so big and strong a bill as 
Mrs. Mosquito. He sucks nectar out of flowers, and 
juices out of berries and fruits, but he never bites nor 
sucks blood out of people.” 
Suddenly Buddy slapped his leg. “Ouch! one bit me. 
I don’t like them. I wish I could kill them all.” 
“Yes, mosquitoes should be killed,” said Uncle Jack. 
“The easiest way is to kill them before they get their 
wings.” 
“Where can we find them before they get their wings?” 
asked Buddy. 
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