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Updated: May 7, 2025
Hurrah for a holiday and a fine new house for Neighbor Field-Mouse! Come, Granny, we're homeward bound. Fetch the automobile, Limpy-toes. I hope the twistity will not give out. Good-night, folkses, goodnight!" Neighbour Field-Mouse's new bungalow was begun before sunrise next morning. Squire Cricket and Daddy Grasshopper brought their saws, Jack Rabbit and Mr.
Down Grasshopper Lane, through a pine grove, along Skunk Avenue, past the Lake, on and on, only stopping here and there to twist up the spring. "I'm getting tired of so much twisting," declared Wiggle. "It would be good sport to coast down Crooked Hill." "Come on!" cried Wink gaily. "Guess we'll not need much twistity there." "Can you steer straight?" asked Dickie doubtfully. "Sure I can steer.
"Sakes alive, Limpy-toes! Suppose I was on my way to see a sick mouse? He'd die maybe, or else be all cured, before I could ever get there." "Automobiles need lots of twistity," argued Buster. "Mr. Giant has to twist his automobile. I heard Robert Giant say there was twistity in the batteries." "Why doesn't it go this time?" demanded Grand-daddy.
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