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Perhaps I may meet him." Mother Graymouse went home somewhat comforted and laden with a pocketful of good things which Granny sent the children from the pantry shelves. Grand-daddy Whiskers and Uncle Squeaky searched all that evening, flashing their lanterns into every dark corner, but at midnight they had to tell Mother Graymouse that no trace of Limpy-toes was to be found.
"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.
And I wonder if you little folk could make some checkermints do?" He drew forth a handful of pink candies from his pocket and gave them three apiece. "Bless my stars, how that little Squealer does squeal! Here, Ma Graymouse, stuff his mouth with this candy and I will begin my story:"
"Scamper and I have been over to the store to get some cheese. I thought you were a burglar, just at first. Push open the door and trot in." "It is Cousin Nimble-toes!" cried a noisy chorus of little mice. "It is Nimble-toes Field-Mouse, sure as I'm a mouse!" declared Uncle Squeaky. "Welcome to our attic, my lad." "You must be hungry after your long tramp, Nimble-toes," said Mother Graymouse.
"Chicken, raspberry jam and frosted cake," repeated Buster in his slow, drawling voice. "Say, Silvy, don't you mind that scratch. I'd risk it for such a good feast. Do you suppose there's any left?" "I forbid you all to enter that play-room again without asking my permission," commanded Mother Graymouse. "Don't risk it, Buster," laughed Silver Ears. "Why, you never would have reached that hole.
I'm going to cut off my tail." "Oh, you daresn't, Teenty Graymouse!" they cried in a shrill admiring chorus. "You watch. Come back here, Tiny; you shall not tell tales to Mammy. One, two, three snip!" Off flew the long slender end of Teenty's tail. "Oh! oh! Get Dr. Grand-daddy!" cried Teenty, quite scared by the blood and pain. Grand-daddy rushed over.
"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.
"Nimble-toes promised to take me for a sail some day," said Limpy-toes. "Oh, let's go again, Mammy," lisped Tiny. "Let's go," echoed Teenty. Baby Squealer was sound asleep in the candy bag which hung over Mother Graymouse's shoulder, so he did not even say "Boo-hoo!" "Well, well, dearies, we did have a delightful visit," replied Mother Graymouse. "Perhaps some day we will go again."
Buster listened sleepily. Now and then he rubbed his stomach. "Were you lonely, Buster?" asked his mother. "No, ma'am." "Did you have a good nap?" "Yes, ma'am." "Are you sick, child?" she demanded, anxiously. "Yes, Mammy," wailed Buster. "It seems as if my little jacket would burst! Boo-hoo!" Mother Graymouse hastened to get him a hot drink, but poor Buster rolled and tossed upon his little bed.
"Once upon a time, away up in an attic, so high that it made their fat old uncle puff to climb up to their dwelling, there lived a widow and her six children. Their father met a sad death a short time ago and so her children had to be very brave and work hard to help their dear mother." "Sniff! Sniff!" went Mother Graymouse behind her handkerchief. "Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.
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