TREASURES FROM THE PLAY-ROOM
Tiny and Teenty were inquisitive little twins. One fine day, when
Mother Graymouse had taken Baby Squealer down cellar to call upon
Aunt and Uncle Squeaky, and Limpy-toes had been sent to the store
across the street, they planned a pleasure trip of their own.
"Silvy and Limpy-toes often visit the playroom and have a lovely
time," whispered Tiny. "Let's go, you and I."
"Let's go!" agreed Teenty, clapping her paws.
"We'll stay just as long as we wish," planned Tiny.
"So we will. It will be good fun," answered Teenty.
Silver Ears heard them whispering and giggling together, but she was
busy making herself a blue velvet hood from some pieces that Mother
Graymouse had found in an old trunk. So she never noticed when Tiny
and Teenty slipped through a hole that led to the play-room.
"Oh, isn't it grand to come all by ourselves!" whispered Tiny.
"Isn't it grand!" echoed Teenty.
"Mammy Graymouse will think we are old enough to look out for
ourselves if only we can find something nice to take home to her,"
went on Tiny. "Oh, see, Teenty, they haven't thrown away their
Christmas tree, yet! I smell goodies. Why, it is pop-corn! But I
never saw it growing on a string before. Hurry and pull it off before
the young giants come."
Tiny and Teenty cut the strings of pop-corn with their sharp teeth
and they fell softly to the carpet.
All at once, the door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant.
Tiny and Teenty scrambled out of sight under the sofa pillows and sat
tremblingly holding each other's cold little paws, while their hearts
went thumpity-thump!
[Illustration: The door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant]
"Norah must throw out this tree to-day," said Ruth Giant. "It has
stood here nearly a month. The hemlock is falling all over the
carpet."
"Even the pop-corn is falling," laughed Robert. "I am going to draw a
picture of the tree and color it with my new paints."
"And I will read another chapter in my book before papa comes back
with the auto."
It was so still in the play-room that the poor scared twins under the
pillows were afraid the Giant children would hear their hearts
beating pitty-pat! pitty-pat! It seemed a long, long time before Maid
Norah's freckly face appeared in the doorway.
"Your pa says you're to hurry if you want to ride in the auto with
him," she announced.
Flying footsteps, slamming doors, and then the play-room was
deserted.
Tiny and Teenty crept shyly from their hiding-place, feeling very
stiff.
"Oh, see, Teenty!" cried Tiny. "There's a bag of Christmas candy away
up in the tree. The young Giants did not find it." Up among the
branches she scrambled, almost to the tip-top of the tall tree.
Her sharp white teeth cut the string arid with a bang, down fell
their prize. Then Tiny swung herself nimbly to the floor.
"Such a lot of candy! Won't Buster grin," laughed Tiny as she caught
up a string of pop-corn and started for home.
Teenty took another string and followed after her sister.
"See, Silvy, what a nice lot of pop-corn we have brought," said Tiny.
"See my nice pop-corn, too," echoed Teenty.
"Why, isn't that lovely!" cried Silver Ears. "I will put it away
safely on the cupboard shelf and perhaps Mammy will make us a
pop-corn pudding."
"And, Silvy," went on Tiny eagerly, "there's a bag of candy, oh, a
very big bag of candy, on the play-room floor."
"It's a very big bag of candy," said Teenty.
Buster pricked up his ears. "Shall I help you bring it home?" he
offered. "Oh, please do. And Silvy, too, for it's a real giant bag of
candy," explained Tiny, excitedly.
So they all four marched into the play-room and tugged and tugged
until they had pulled the candy bag close to the biggest hole. But oh
dear me! Even the biggest hole was ever so much too small.
Silver Ears sat down and scratched her head thoughtfully. "How shall
we ever manage to get it home?" she asked.
"I know," planned Buster. "Let's eat it right here. That is a nice
easy way."
"Oh, no," said Silver Ears. "The Giants might come back, or old Tom.
Besides, I want Limpy-toes and Squealer and Mammy to share our
goodies. We will untie the string and take out the candies. Buster
and Tiny must go through the hole and Teenty and I will push the
candies through, one piece at a time."
"That is hard work," grumbled Buster. "My way was ever so much
easier."
Silver Ears gave the fat, lazy, little fellow a shove that sent him
squealing through the hole.
[Illustration: How shall we ever manage to get it home?]
Tiny followed quickly after. Soon the four little mice were busy
shovelling candy. It was rather hard work; "almost as bad as
shovelling coal into a bin," Buster thought.
"Silvy, make Buster help me," complained Tiny. "He is just sucking
the candy off his paws and I'm most buried up."
"Well, my paws are all sticky," drawled Buster.
"Get to work, Buster, and help Tiny," called Silver Ears, sharply,
"or I'll come through the hole and shake you till you'll see stars."
At last every stick of the pretty colored candy was pushed through
into the Graymouse side of the attic. Teenty frisked through and
Silver Ears danced after her, with the candy bag rolled in a little
bundle under one arm.
When Mother Graymouse came home just at dusk, after a delightful
visit with Aunt Squeaky and all the little Cousin Squeakies, a fine
surprise awaited her.
Limpy-toes had returned from the store with plenty of cheese, a slice
of boiled ham and some cute little oyster crackers. Silver Ears and
the twins had set the table. At each place they had laid a stick of
red and white striped candy.
The cupboard door was ajar, and even before Mother Graymouse had put
Baby Squealer in his cradle, or taken off her bonnet, she caught
sight of the heap of Christmas candies and the popcorn, which looked
like a white snow-bank upon the cupboard shelf.
"Sniff! Sniff!" Out came Mammy's handkerchief as she sank into her
rocking chair, bonnet, baby and all.
"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.
The five little mice looked dismayed.
"What is the trouble now, Mammy?" asked Silver Ears, sadly. "We
thought you would be glad. Just see this candy bag. Won't it make a
nice shopping bag for you if we make it smaller?"
Mother Graymouse wiped her eyes.
"And so I am glad, my dear Silvy," she smiled. "Did ever a poor widow
mouse have such good, helpful children? When I'm sad, I cry. And when
I'm glad, I cry, also. Your poor Daddy used to think it very queer.
But never mind, my dears. Bring your little stools and we will eat
this splendid supper before the tea gets cold."