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My grand-daughter, Dot Squeaky, will be the teacher. A sweet young lady mouse she is, if I am her grand-daddy and maybe ought not to boast of her smartness. I must bid you good-day, Lady Spider. I will come in next week and see if you are better." "A very pleasant call," thought Dr. Whiskers, as he trotted along the country road. "Lady Spider does not seem to be a harmful creature. Hello!
In the evening, they held a concert. Uncle Squeaky played upon his fiddle and Buster sang his newest song: "We are merry as can be, Happy little mice, Gathered round our Christmas tree Hung with gifts so nice. Jolly little mice are we, Happy all day long; So we shout and sing with glee Our glad Christmas song." Then Grand-daddy played Santa and distributed the gifts.
I want to get back and work on the new bungalow." But Grand-daddy had just begun to nail up a pantry shelf, when Mother Graymouse beckoned. He found Tim Scrabble waiting for him. "Can you go home with me, Dr. Whiskers?" he asked eagerly. "Jimmie and Johnnie have the whooping cough; Janie ate some candy and it made her tooth ache, and Baby Judy has the croup. Worst of all, Polly went into Mrs.
Limpy-toes was generous with his automobile. He was busy, for Grand-daddy's practice was growing larger, and as Limpy-toes was studying medicine, he often went along with Grand-daddy. But he found time to give the little mice many jolly rides along the pine-strewn paths and lanes. Sometimes he allowed Wink or Wiggle to steer and they felt very proud indeed.
"Runs fine," said Grand-daddy. "'Most takes my breath away," gasped Buster. "Say, Limpy-toes, why are we stopping?" "Run down again, I guess," sighed Limpy-toes. "Must we stop every few minutes and wear our paws out cranking it up forty-'leven times?" grumbled Grand-daddy. Again they were off and again they stopped. This time they were in the middle of Mr. Giant's clover field.
"Our kiddies need the country sunshine after being shut up all winter in this attic," added Mother Graymouse. "Limpy-toes shall help Grand-daddy, I'll be his nurse, and Dot will make a lovely school teacher," planned Silver Ears. "I'd love to teach the little Spider, Cricket and Grasshopper kiddies," smiled Dot Squeaky. "Ah, there's lots of goodies down by the Lake!" reminded Buster.
Grand-daddy set the cedar tree in one corner where it looked very grand. Uncle Squeaky slipped into the Giant's pantry one evening, when his keen nose smelled pop-corn, and came back with a load of the fluffy white stuff. "Get your needles, children," called Mother Graymouse, "and we will string some pop-corn for the tree."
Then Buster told all he had seen in the night. "You must have eaten too much cheese for supper," chuckled Uncle Squeaky. "Cheese always makes me dream." "But did I dream about Santa, or about you and Grand-daddy and Mammy?" insisted Buster. "Well, that's the question," grinned Uncle Squeaky as he walked off, leaving Buster very much puzzled. They left the presents on their tree all Christmas day.
Mother Graymouse sat in her rocking-chair singing to little Squealer. Tiny, Teenty and Buster Graymouse were playing upon the floor near by with their cousins, Wink and Wiggle Squeaky. Aunt Squeaky and Uncle Hezekiah were busy around the stove. Grand-daddy and Granny Whiskers sat in the chimney corner waiting patiently for their supper.
"Ah, yes, Debby! A good living-room, a big pantry you shall have all the fixings." They worked busily away. By-and-by, Grand-daddy Whiskers paused to look around. "It looks pretty fine already," he declared. "I'm having a great vacation day. Plenty of fresh air, sunshine, pine breezes and vigorous exercise make a mouse feel good, Neighbor Field-Mouse.
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