CHAPTER II UNCLE SQUEAKY
CHAPTER III TREASURES FROM THE PLAY-ROOM
CHAPTER IV MOTHER GRAYMOUSE KEEPS SCHOOL
CHAPTER V LIMPY-TOES IS LOST
CHAPTER VI BUSTER AND THE CHOCOLATES
CHAPTER VII SILVER EARS' ADVENTURE
CHAPTER VIII VISITING MRS. FIELD-MOUSE
CHAPTER IX MOVING DAYS
CHAPTER X THE CHRISTMAS TREE
ILLUSTRATIONS
That Wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful
The little Graymouse children greeted Uncle Squeaky gleefully
"I might manage to tell one more Story," he chuckled
There was a pretty daughter who loved Bright Ribbons
The door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant
How shall we ever manage to get it home?
"That cross old Norah"
Buster folded his paws in his lap and sang very sweetly
"How nice the Apples smell," said Buster
"My poor, dear Limpy-toes," she sobbed
"Tell us all about it?" they begged
It was a hot summer day
Grand-daddy Whiskers with a pan of warm biscuits under his arm
The only food in sight is set around on the pantry shelves in traps
A busy little procession marched to the barn
"Jolly little mice are we"
GRAYMOUSE FAMILY
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I
THE GRAYMOUSE HOME
Mother Graymouse, with her family lived in a cosy attic which was as
snug and comfortable as any good mouse could wish.
Her children were named Limpy-toes, Silver Ears, Buster, Teenty and
Tiny, and Baby Squealer. Although they had many faults, upon the
whole they were good children and made a happy family.
On pleasant mornings, the sun shone in bright and warm through the
dainty cobweb curtains of their east window. In the summer-time,
robins and orioles sang sweetly among the green branches of the maple
tree which shaded the west window. Even when it stormed, Mother
Graymouse and her little ones enjoyed the patter, patter of the
rain-drops upon the roof and window-panes. They were thankful for
such a good home.
The house in which they lived belonged to a family of giants. There
was Mr. Giant, his wife, and two little Giants. The little girl was a
pretty child named Ruth, with blue eyes and long yellow curls. Her
brother, Robert, looked almost exactly like her, except that his
yellow curls were shorter, he wore bigger boots that made more noise,
and instead of playing with dolls and tea-sets he liked balls and
bats and air-rifles.
After Mr. Giant had fitted up half of the attic for his children's
play-room, life was much jollier for the little Graymouses. The steam
heat from the play-room came through the cracks and made their home
as warm as toast.
Limpy-toes and Silver Ears worked busily away until there were three
holes through which they could steal softly in and watch Ruth and
Robert at their play.
Since Christmas the attic had become a merry, noisy place.
"I wonder how those young Giants manage to make such a racket?"
grumbled Mother Graymouse. "I've been trying for an hour to rock Baby
Squealer to sleep and the poor dear is wide awake now. Such a din,
I've seldom heard."
"It's their Christmas presents, Mammy," replied Silver Ears. "Ruth
has a toy piano."
"And Robert blows his new cornet and beats his drum," finished
Limpy-toes.
"He must like to work so hard," drawled Buster.
"Oh, it's jolly fun!" cried Tiny.
"It's jolly fun," echoed her twin Teenty.
"Maybe it is," said Mother Graymouse, "but I'd like to chew a hole in
those toys that would let out all the noise. With their racket and
Squealer's howling, I'm almost crazy. Here, Silver Ears, sit by the
cradle and amuse the baby. I must try to find something for our
supper. Buster, I want you to help the twins set the dishes on the
table while I am gone. Don't shirk now. Even if Limpy-toes is so
lame, he helps me far more than you do. See the nice dish he is
carving out of a walnut shell for me. I shall cook his favorite
pudding in it to-morrow as a reward for his patient toil. Aren't you
ashamed to be idle when your poor crippled brother tries so hard to
help his mother? Now be good children and don't quarrel." She slipped
on her gray coat and the bonnet trimmed with blue ribbons and whisked
out of sight down a hole in one corner of the attic floor.
Silver Ears left little Squealer to cry himself to sleep while she
stood on tiptoe before the old cracked looking-glass and tied a pink
ribbon in a bow under her chin.
"Where did you get that ribbon, Miss Prinky?" asked Buster.
"In the play-room," laughed Silver Ears. "It used to belong to the
doll, but now it belongs to me."
"You look very sweet, Silvy," lisped Tiny.
"You're sweet, Silvy," chimed in Teenty.
Silver Ears made them a charming bow. "I thank you, twinnies! I'll
bring you both something nice from the play-room some day. Now hurry!
Mammy will soon return and you haven't even laid the table-cloth. Run
and get the spoons from the cupboard, Buster, or I'll tell Mammy to
put you to bed without any supper. Oh, that baby! Can't you jiggle
the cradle, Limpy-toes, while you finish digging out the dish?"
Mother Graymouse looked very sober when she came home. She took a
cracker and some stale cake crumbs from her pocket.
"This is all I could get to-night, my dears," she explained sadly.
"That wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful. It
is snowing and the drifts are very deep, so I did not dare go across
the street to the store. Ah well, we shall not starve."
"Never mind, Mammy," said Limpy-toes. "Crackers and cake crumbs are
nice."
[Illustration: That Wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to
be careful.]
"By and by it will be summer, Mammy, and then we can all go out to
hunt for food," added Silver Ears cheerfully.
"But I want some cheese with my cracker," whimpered Buster.
"When your poor Daddy was alive, we had cheese or meat for every
meal. He was a wonderful provider. And so clever! What other family
has a cradle like ours? And my rocking-chair--I'm quite proud of it.
He made 'em all,--every stick of furniture we have, with his own
clever paws. Poor Daddy, I miss him so! It is a cold world for a lone
widow to be left in with six small children." Mother Graymouse sighed
and wiped a tear away with her handkerchief.
The five little mice tiptoed to their places at the table very
quietly, for Limpy-toes had rocked Baby Squealer to sleep at last.
They ate their supper in silence. Only Tiny and Teenty whispered and
giggled softly to each other.
Suddenly there was a great scrambling and scratching outside.
"It is Uncle Squeaky!" cried Limpy-toes.
"He's coming up the elevator," decided Silver Ears.
"Oh, how lovely to have a visit from Uncle Squeaky on a snow-stormy
night!" and the twins ran a race to the attic entrance.
"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.