Donald, Daisy, Huey, Louie and Dewey all went to visit Uncle Scrooge one cold autumn day. They knocked at the door and had to wait a long time before all the bolts were undone. Even then Uncle Scrooge looked very suspicious, as if they were Beagle Boys in disguise. The old miser was very surprised to see them all.
"Well, well. I suppose you'd better come in," he croaked at the door.
"Have you got a sore throat, Great- Uncle Scrooge?" chirped Louie.
"Don't be cheeky, Louie!" scolded Daisy.
"Stuff and nonsense!" croaked
Uncle Scrooge. "I have got a sore throat! The young lad's right."
"Sorry to hear that, Uncle," said Donald sympathetically. "Should I send Dewey out to get you some cough
drops?"
"No. They cost too much money nowadays," complained the old miser. "I'd rather suffer the tickle in my throat."
"You don't seem very happy, Uncle Scrooge," soothed Daisy.
"Mind your own business!" snapped Uncle Scrooge.
"Poor old Great-Uncle Scrooge," chirped Dewey, who had jumped up to sit on his Great-Uncle's knee.
"What do you mean—poor Great- Uncle Scrooge!" chuckled Uncle Scrooge. "I've got more money than Fort Knox."
"What I meant," explained Dewey, "was that I had a sore throat too, and I hardly have any money. But I bought some cough drops." With that Dewey pulled out his box of cough drops and gave them to Uncle Scrooge.
"You can have my cough drops, Uncle," smiled Dewey, "because they cured my sore throat."
Uncle Scrooge didn't know what to say. But one great big tear rolled down his face.
"Poor Great-Uncle Scrooge," echoed the triplets.
