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Just take a nap, Granny, and forget your notion that this attic is the safest spot in the world. Nimble-toes' coming has stirred up my Gipsy blood. It is summertime again and the country is the place for your Uncle Hezekiah. We'll start for the Lake as soon as we can pack our belongings, Nimble-toes. Let me give you some more pudding."
"I always wanted to live in the country and be a doctor, Granny," he sighed. "Bless my stars, Granny," laughed Uncle Squeaky, "we found Squealer without much fuss; Nimble-toes fished Wiggle out of the pond, and Limpy-toes didn't get even the patch on his trouser's knee scorched. To be sure, the barn did burn down. Lucky we were at the Lake, I'm thinking.
"It's no good," croaked Squire Cricket. "I've worn it ever since Nimble-toes fetched it, and I'm still as hoarse as Grandpa Bull Frog." "Ah well, if Mistress Cricket will fetch a glass of water, I will fix a gargle that will help you." He sprinkled some salt into the water which Mistress Cricket brought.
"What's pipers, Buster?" asked Tiny. "I don't know; prob'ly something good to eat. It was one of Robert's funny songs, twinnie. I can make nicer songs myself," bragged Buster. "All ready for the concert!" shouted Uncle Squeaky. Wink and Buster found their cornets; Limpy-toes brought his flute, Wiggle his fife, Scamper the alto horn, and Nimble-toes his beloved drum.
After dinner, Nimble-toes invited Limpy-toes, Silver Ears, Buster and the twins to go out and play with him. They went down to the pond, which was dotted with sweet, white lilies, and watched the fish splash in the water. Grandpa Bull Frog hopped over to chat with them. He invited them to a frog concert which was to be held that evening.
They found some little red berries growing under the oak tree, that tasted very much like Uncle Squeaky's checkermints. Nimble-toes said that they were checkerberries. All too soon, the sun sank in the west, it began to grow dark and Mammy called that it was time to start for home. It was a fine moonlight evening and the walk home seemed short.
Nimble-toes Field-mouse trotted briskly along the dark subway and up the steep attic stairway in Mr. Giant's house. He had travelled a long way from his woodland home and it was getting late. The door of the cosy attic where Cousin Graymouse lived was ajar. Nimble-toes paused to get his breath and peep in at the busy, happy family.
Here I am at Squire Cricket's gateway. I must cure his sore throat." Squire Cricket came to the door. He wore a red flannel around his neck and his voice was hoarse as he greeted Dr. Whiskers. "Nimble-toes said you needed some medicine," began Dr. Whiskers. "I see you are wearing the red flannel that Granny sent. She believes that red flannel will cure almost anything."
Pa Field-Mouse was away from home. I snatched Baby Wee and saved him. But oh, my dear Betsey, of all my ten children, Wee and Nimble-toes were the only ones to escape. Sniff! sniff! sniff!" "Sniff! sniff!" cried Mother Graymouse. "Well, we mice must make the best of things," added Mrs. Field-Mouse more cheerfully. "Our new home is snug and sheltered and not nearly as damp as the old one.
"You walked like Grandpa Turtle, Uncle," laughed Nimble-toes. "Well," continue Grand-daddy "the other young mouse thought life was so short that he must move like a whirlwind or his work would not get done." "And so," explained Uncle Squeaky, "he went on a hop, skip and jump like this.
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