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Then cure-all salve must be rubbed in where patches of skin came off. But at last every patient was made comfortable. Tim and Polly thanked them again and again. "Now for our long homeward tramp, Limpy-toes," sighed Grand-daddy wearily. It was long past midnight when tired old Grand-daddy pulled off his boots. "A great vacation day it proved," he yawned.
"Supper is all ready." The little mice crowded around their cousin from the Pond Lily Lake country. They all talked at once, squealing excitedly and asking all sorts of questions, until poor Nimble-toes was bewildered. At last he climbed upon a little red stool and shouted in Uncle Squeaky's ear: "I've a message for Grand-daddy Whiskers. Please make 'em be still a minute, Uncle Hezekiah."
"They weren't poison, Grand-daddy, 'cause Ruth Giant was eating 'em her own self," moaned Buster. "Eating what?" cried Mammy and Grand-daddy in the same breath. "Chocolates," confessed Buster. "How many?" demanded Grand-daddy sternly. "Only ten," whimpered Buster. "I will be right back," said Grand-daddy. "There is a bottle of castor oil on the pantry shelf.
"It is every bit as good as Mr. Giant's automobile," insisted Buster. "I'm not the leastest bit scared. I know it will go whizzing. Ah, what sport we will have!" "Grand-daddy will start very early, for he must find a house near his patients. If you wish to ride with Limpy-toes, you must trot off to bed right now, Buster," decided Mother Graymouse.
His Grandfather slowly drew out the coin, and Tom twitched it eagerly from the long, thin fingers. "I don't see how you can need money on board the boat," repeated the old gentleman. "Never you mind what I want it for, Grand-daddy," said Tom, laughing loudly and shaking the sovereign at him as he ran off; "that's my business, and not yours." Polly had not taken her eyes off their faces.
"You'll find your cows there," said grand-daddy longlegs, and then he hurried home to his dinner. And Uncle Wiggily and the boy went over to the woods, and there in the shade by a brook sure enough were the cows, chewing their gum I mean their cuds. And they were just waiting to be driven home.
"There's strawberries, blueberries, apples, potatoes, sweet corn let's go right away, Grand-daddy." Granny Whiskers sat silently rocking while the others chattered eagerly. Grand-daddy watched her as she wiped away a tear and sighed wearily. "What do you say, Granny? You enjoyed last summer's vacation at the Lake, didn't you?" he asked.
"I'll mix some mud plasters that will stop the pain. So the hornets won out, did they?" "No, sir, they didn't!" cried Wink, doubling his little fists. "We beat 'em, Grand-daddy. We got what we went after. Wiggle rolled their nest home." "I guess you are right, sonny," grinned Grand-daddy. "I'll soon cure the wounds for my brave soldiers. There, you feel better already. Forward march.
"Ah, it is good to get back to our woodland home!" cried Uncle Squeaky. "Many paws will soon set our rooms in order. Then we will trot over to Wild Rose Cottage and help Dr. Whiskers get his pine-needle beds ready before moon-rise." "Good-morning to you, Grand-daddy!" said Uncle Squeaky cheerily the next morning. "How are all the folk at Wild Rose Cottage?" "Nicely, Hezekiah, nicely," grinned Dr.
"The key must have bounced out when we struck that big stone near the ash heap," said Limpy-toes. "I will trot back and find it." "And I'll take my stout cane and my own strong legs and trot toward the Lake, if you don't mind," decided Grand-daddy.
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