CHAPTER X THE CHRISTMAS TREE

ILLUSTRATIONS

That Wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful

The little Graymouse children greeted Uncle Squeaky gleefully

"I might manage to tell one more Story," he chuckled

There was a pretty daughter who loved Bright Ribbons

The door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant

How shall we ever manage to get it home?

"That cross old Norah"

Buster folded his paws in his lap and sang very sweetly

"How nice the Apples smell," said Buster

"My poor, dear Limpy-toes," she sobbed

"Tell us all about it?" they begged

It was a hot summer day

Grand-daddy Whiskers with a pan of warm biscuits under his arm

The only food in sight is set around on the pantry shelves in traps

A busy little procession marched to the barn

"Jolly little mice are we"

GRAYMOUSE FAMILY

[Illustration]

CHAPTER I

THE GRAYMOUSE HOME

Mother Graymouse, with her family lived in a cosy attic which was as snug and comfortable as any good mouse could wish.

Her children were named Limpy-toes, Silver Ears, Buster, Teenty and Tiny, and Baby Squealer. Although they had many faults, upon the whole they were good children and made a happy family.

On pleasant mornings, the sun shone in bright and warm through the dainty cobweb curtains of their east window. In the summer-time, robins and orioles sang sweetly among the green branches of the maple tree which shaded the west window. Even when it stormed, Mother Graymouse and her little ones enjoyed the patter, patter of the rain-drops upon the roof and window-panes. They were thankful for such a good home.

The house in which they lived belonged to a family of giants. There was Mr. Giant, his wife, and two little Giants. The little girl was a pretty child named Ruth, with blue eyes and long yellow curls. Her brother, Robert, looked almost exactly like her, except that his yellow curls were shorter, he wore bigger boots that made more noise, and instead of playing with dolls and tea-sets he liked balls and bats and air-rifles.

After Mr. Giant had fitted up half of the attic for his children's play-room, life was much jollier for the little Graymouses. The steam heat from the play-room came through the cracks and made their home as warm as toast.

Limpy-toes and Silver Ears worked busily away until there were three holes through which they could steal softly in and watch Ruth and Robert at their play.

Since Christmas the attic had become a merry, noisy place.

"I wonder how those young Giants manage to make such a racket?" grumbled Mother Graymouse. "I've been trying for an hour to rock Baby Squealer to sleep and the poor dear is wide awake now. Such a din, I've seldom heard."

"It's their Christmas presents, Mammy," replied Silver Ears. "Ruth has a toy piano."

"And Robert blows his new cornet and beats his drum," finished Limpy-toes.

"He must like to work so hard," drawled Buster.

"Oh, it's jolly fun!" cried Tiny.

"It's jolly fun," echoed her twin Teenty.

"Maybe it is," said Mother Graymouse, "but I'd like to chew a hole in those toys that would let out all the noise. With their racket and Squealer's howling, I'm almost crazy. Here, Silver Ears, sit by the cradle and amuse the baby. I must try to find something for our supper. Buster, I want you to help the twins set the dishes on the table while I am gone. Don't shirk now. Even if Limpy-toes is so lame, he helps me far more than you do. See the nice dish he is carving out of a walnut shell for me. I shall cook his favorite pudding in it to-morrow as a reward for his patient toil. Aren't you ashamed to be idle when your poor crippled brother tries so hard to help his mother? Now be good children and don't quarrel." She slipped on her gray coat and the bonnet trimmed with blue ribbons and whisked out of sight down a hole in one corner of the attic floor.

Silver Ears left little Squealer to cry himself to sleep while she stood on tiptoe before the old cracked looking-glass and tied a pink ribbon in a bow under her chin.

"Where did you get that ribbon, Miss Prinky?" asked Buster.

"In the play-room," laughed Silver Ears. "It used to belong to the doll, but now it belongs to me."

"You look very sweet, Silvy," lisped Tiny.

"You're sweet, Silvy," chimed in Teenty.

Silver Ears made them a charming bow. "I thank you, twinnies! I'll bring you both something nice from the play-room some day. Now hurry! Mammy will soon return and you haven't even laid the table-cloth. Run and get the spoons from the cupboard, Buster, or I'll tell Mammy to put you to bed without any supper. Oh, that baby! Can't you jiggle the cradle, Limpy-toes, while you finish digging out the dish?"

Mother Graymouse looked very sober when she came home. She took a cracker and some stale cake crumbs from her pocket.

"This is all I could get to-night, my dears," she explained sadly. "That wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful. It is snowing and the drifts are very deep, so I did not dare go across the street to the store. Ah well, we shall not starve."

"Never mind, Mammy," said Limpy-toes. "Crackers and cake crumbs are nice."

[Illustration: That Wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful.]

"By and by it will be summer, Mammy, and then we can all go out to hunt for food," added Silver Ears cheerfully.

"But I want some cheese with my cracker," whimpered Buster.

"When your poor Daddy was alive, we had cheese or meat for every meal. He was a wonderful provider. And so clever! What other family has a cradle like ours? And my rocking-chair—I'm quite proud of it. He made 'em all,—every stick of furniture we have, with his own clever paws. Poor Daddy, I miss him so! It is a cold world for a lone widow to be left in with six small children." Mother Graymouse sighed and wiped a tear away with her handkerchief.

The five little mice tiptoed to their places at the table very quietly, for Limpy-toes had rocked Baby Squealer to sleep at last. They ate their supper in silence. Only Tiny and Teenty whispered and giggled softly to each other.

Suddenly there was a great scrambling and scratching outside.

"It is Uncle Squeaky!" cried Limpy-toes.

"He's coming up the elevator," decided Silver Ears.

"Oh, how lovely to have a visit from Uncle Squeaky on a snow-stormy night!" and the twins ran a race to the attic entrance.

"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.

CHAPTER II

UNCLE SQUEAKY

The little Graymouse children greeted Uncle Squeaky gleefully. Silver Ears took his fur cap and cane, Limpy-toes hung up his great-coat, and the twins captured both his kindly paws and danced back to the chimney corner with him.

Buster was such a fat, lazy fellow that he just sat upon his little stool and waited for his uncle to come to him.

"Howdy do, Uncle Squeaky?" he said as the others drew their little red-painted stools into a half circle before Uncle Squeaky's arm-chair. "Have you any peppermints in your pocket?"

"And will you please tell us a real exciting story?" begged Silver Ears.

Uncle Squeaky laughed until tiny wrinkles came all around his twinkling, black eyes and he looked ever so pleasant.

"Just listen to that, Ma Graymouse!" he cried.

[Illustration: The little Graymouse children greeted Uncle Squeaky gleefully.]

"Just listen to that! One would think I was a walking candy store and a story book, all in one. Very sorry, Buster Boy, but I haven't a single peppermint in my pocket. I think you ought not to eat so much candy. You are too fat, already. As for stories, you kiddies have heard every tale that this old gray head holds, time and time again."

He watched the five sober little faces as they sat upon their red-painted stools with their paws folded primly in their laps. Then he winked slyly at Mother Graymouse. "Oh, well, if you are going to feel as bad as all that, perhaps I might manage to tell you one more story," he chuckled. "But I think Silver Ears will hardly call it exciting. 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:"

[Illustration: "I might manage to tell one more Story, he chuckled."]

"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.

Uncle Squeaky passed Mother Graymouse another checkermint for the baby and went on with his story:

"The oldest son was much like his Daddy, very wise and clever at making things. He was somewhat lame as he had lost the toes of one foot in a trap when he was a small mouse, too small to be wise."

"Limpy-toes!" they cried in a chorus.

"And a great comfort he is, to be sure," put in Mother Graymouse heartily.

[Illustration: There was a pretty daughter who loved Bright Ribbons.]

"And there was a pretty daughter who loved bright ribbons and spent quite a good deal of time dancing before the looking-glass. But she was good-natured and helpful, with all her gay ways and dainty habits, and every one who knew her loved her."

"Silver Ears, of course!" shouted the others.

"The third little fellow resembled his Grand-daddy Whiskers," continued Uncle Squeaky. "He was fat as a butter ball, so he could not squeeze through holes to hunt for food with the others. He ate so many goodies that he was too tired to do much work, so he had to sit on his little red stool most of the time. But he could sometimes sing the baby to sleep, which was a great blessing. He was a sweet singer and now he is going to sing us a song. Wake up, Buster Boy, and give us a right good tune."

Buster blinked sleepily.

"It is rather warm in this chimney corner," excused Mother Graymouse. "Now, Buster, sing your newest song for Uncle Squeaky; that's a good child."

Buster rubbed his sleepy eyes and began:

"Cheese oh! Merry oh! Apple pie and cream; Cheese oh! Merry oh! Pudding that's a dream.

"Heigh oh! Merry oh! Spice cake's very nice; Heigh oh! Merry oh! We are happy mice."

"A voice just like his poor Daddy's," sighed Mother Graymouse, "and so he is a comfort, too."

"Then there was a pair of twins," resumed Uncle Squeaky. "The two of 'em wouldn't make one good sized mouse. But it did not take much stuff for their dresses and they could steal through the tiniest, teentiest holes, which was often very handy for the whole family."

How they all clapped for Tiny and Teenty!

"Hush!" cautioned Mother Graymouse. "If we make too much noise, the Giant may be angry and turn us out of our cosy home."

"Then there was a small baby; he was rightly named Squealer," added Uncle Squeaky dryly. "Well, one stormy night when the snow was packed against the windows so you couldn't even peep out, their old uncle made them a visit. He reminded them that once again it was New Year's Eve." He paused solemnly.

"And so we must make new resolutions," smiled Silver Ears.

"Very good," agreed Uncle Squeaky. "Suppose you begin."

"I will obey my mother," said Silver Ears.

"I will try to take poor Daddy's place," said Limpy-toes.

"I will mind the baby," said Tiny.

"I will mind baby, too," said Teenty.

"Your turn, Buster," reminded Uncle Squeaky.

"I will try to wake up mornings," said Buster.

"And not eat so much, my boy. And do a little more work; it is good exercise," advised Uncle Squeaky in a rather severe tone.

"Now that is fine. Good little mice are always obedient and helpful. I think, Ma Graymouse, that you ought to be very happy and contented this year with such dutiful kiddies. Now it is getting late. I must tell you the good news which was my real errand, and then be gone. Granny and Grand-daddy Whiskers have met with great good fortune. They have moved up one flight into the pantry closet. They say the air there is very fine—all sorts of delicious odors. And food! Why, it is hard to choose the bill of fare, there's so many goodies laying around! Granny wishes you to visit her and bring all the kiddies,—especially Buster," he grinned. "Good night. A happy New Year to you all!"

"Happy New Year, Uncle Squeaky!" they called in chorus. "Bring your fiddle next time, uncle," coaxed Silver Ears, as he pulled his fur cap down snugly.

"And don't forget the checkermints," drawled Buster from his little red stool.

CHAPTER III

TREASURES FROM THE PLAY-ROOM

Tiny and Teenty were inquisitive little twins. One fine day, when Mother Graymouse had taken Baby Squealer down cellar to call upon Aunt and Uncle Squeaky, and Limpy-toes had been sent to the store across the street, they planned a pleasure trip of their own.

"Silvy and Limpy-toes often visit the playroom and have a lovely time," whispered Tiny. "Let's go, you and I."

"Let's go!" agreed Teenty, clapping her paws.

"We'll stay just as long as we wish," planned Tiny.

"So we will. It will be good fun," answered Teenty.

Silver Ears heard them whispering and giggling together, but she was busy making herself a blue velvet hood from some pieces that Mother Graymouse had found in an old trunk. So she never noticed when Tiny and Teenty slipped through a hole that led to the play-room.

"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. Hurry and pull it off before the young giants come."

Tiny and Teenty cut the strings of pop-corn with their sharp teeth and they fell softly to the carpet.

All at once, the door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant.

Tiny and Teenty scrambled out of sight under the sofa pillows and sat tremblingly holding each other's cold little paws, while their hearts went thumpity-thump!

[Illustration: The door flew open and in ran Ruth and Robert Giant]

"Norah must throw out this tree to-day," said Ruth Giant. "It has stood here nearly a month. The hemlock is falling all over the carpet."

"Even the pop-corn is falling," laughed Robert. "I am going to draw a picture of the tree and color it with my new paints."

"And I will read another chapter in my book before papa comes back with the auto."

It was so still in the play-room that the poor scared twins under the pillows were afraid the Giant children would hear their hearts beating pitty-pat! pitty-pat! It seemed a long, long time before Maid Norah's freckly face appeared in the doorway.

"Your pa says you're to hurry if you want to ride in the auto with him," she announced.

Flying footsteps, slamming doors, and then the play-room was deserted.

Tiny and Teenty crept shyly from their hiding-place, feeling very stiff.

"Oh, see, Teenty!" cried Tiny. "There's a bag of Christmas candy away up in the tree. The young Giants did not find it." Up among the branches she scrambled, almost to the tip-top of the tall tree.

Her sharp white teeth cut the string arid with a bang, down fell their prize. Then Tiny swung herself nimbly to the floor.

"Such a lot of candy! Won't Buster grin," laughed Tiny as she caught up a string of pop-corn and started for home.

Teenty took another string and followed after her sister.

"See, Silvy, what a nice lot of pop-corn we have brought," said Tiny.

"See my nice pop-corn, too," echoed Teenty.

"Why, isn't that lovely!" cried Silver Ears. "I will put it away safely on the cupboard shelf and perhaps Mammy will make us a pop-corn pudding."

"And, Silvy," went on Tiny eagerly, "there's a bag of candy, oh, a very big bag of candy, on the play-room floor."

"It's a very big bag of candy," said Teenty.

Buster pricked up his ears. "Shall I help you bring it home?" he offered. "Oh, please do. And Silvy, too, for it's a real giant bag of candy," explained Tiny, excitedly.

So they all four marched into the play-room and tugged and tugged until they had pulled the candy bag close to the biggest hole. But oh dear me! Even the biggest hole was ever so much too small.

Silver Ears sat down and scratched her head thoughtfully. "How shall we ever manage to get it home?" she asked.

"I know," planned Buster. "Let's eat it right here. That is a nice easy way."

"Oh, no," said Silver Ears. "The Giants might come back, or old Tom. Besides, I want Limpy-toes and Squealer and Mammy to share our goodies. We will untie the string and take out the candies. Buster and Tiny must go through the hole and Teenty and I will push the candies through, one piece at a time."

"That is hard work," grumbled Buster. "My way was ever so much easier."

Silver Ears gave the fat, lazy, little fellow a shove that sent him squealing through the hole.

[Illustration: How shall we ever manage to get it home?]

Tiny followed quickly after. Soon the four little mice were busy shovelling candy. It was rather hard work; "almost as bad as shovelling coal into a bin," Buster thought.

"Silvy, make Buster help me," complained Tiny. "He is just sucking the candy off his paws and I'm most buried up."

"Well, my paws are all sticky," drawled Buster.

"Get to work, Buster, and help Tiny," called Silver Ears, sharply, "or I'll come through the hole and shake you till you'll see stars."

At last every stick of the pretty colored candy was pushed through into the Graymouse side of the attic. Teenty frisked through and Silver Ears danced after her, with the candy bag rolled in a little bundle under one arm.

When Mother Graymouse came home just at dusk, after a delightful visit with Aunt Squeaky and all the little Cousin Squeakies, a fine surprise awaited her.

Limpy-toes had returned from the store with plenty of cheese, a slice of boiled ham and some cute little oyster crackers. Silver Ears and the twins had set the table. At each place they had laid a stick of red and white striped candy.

The cupboard door was ajar, and even before Mother Graymouse had put Baby Squealer in his cradle, or taken off her bonnet, she caught sight of the heap of Christmas candies and the popcorn, which looked like a white snow-bank upon the cupboard shelf.

"Sniff! Sniff!" Out came Mammy's handkerchief as she sank into her rocking chair, bonnet, baby and all.

"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.

The five little mice looked dismayed.

"What is the trouble now, Mammy?" asked Silver Ears, sadly. "We thought you would be glad. Just see this candy bag. Won't it make a nice shopping bag for you if we make it smaller?"

Mother Graymouse wiped her eyes.

"And so I am glad, my dear Silvy," she smiled. "Did ever a poor widow mouse have such good, helpful children? When I'm sad, I cry. And when I'm glad, I cry, also. Your poor Daddy used to think it very queer. But never mind, my dears. Bring your little stools and we will eat this splendid supper before the tea gets cold."

CHAPTER IV

MOTHER GRAYMOUSE KEEPS SCHOOL

Silver Ears was very angry and excited one morning when she returned from a visit to the play-room. Her eyes were pink and swollen from crying as she sat beside Squealer in the chimney corner.

"She is a hateful old Norah, Mammy," she burst out at last. "Ruth Giant wants me to be her little pet mouse. I heard her tell Robert. And she tossed me the nicest bit of cake I ever tasted. It was frosted and stuffed with strawberry jam.

"Then that horrid old Norah Maid came in and shoo-ed me with her broom. I hid under the doll's bed. You wouldn't believe the bad things that freckly-faced Norah said. She told Ruth Giant that she wasn't going to have nasty little mice around, running up her skirts, not if she knew it. She stuck her snubby nose up in the air and said it seemed as if the room smelled mousey. Then when I started to run home, because I couldn't listen to such talk a minute longer, she cried—'There he goes now, Miss Ruth! The nasty, thieving, little beast! If there's a creature I can't abide, it's a mouse, to be sure!'