[STORY XXV]
TOODLE AND NOODLE ON THE ICE
"Come, boys! Get up!" called Mrs. Flat-tail, the beaver lady, who was the mother of the two little beaver boys. "Time to get up or you'll be late for school!" and she pounded on the ceiling with a nice piece of birch tree stick, from which she gnawed the bark so that from it she could make griddle cakes for breakfast.
Toodle put one paw out of his bed, which had been made in a pile of nice clean shavings.
"Bur-r-r-r-r-r!" he cried, pulling his paw back quickly again under the warm bed quilt, made of soft brown leaves, sewed together. "Bur-r-r-r-r! It's awful cold!"
"Is it?" asked Noodle, rubbing his eyes with his paws. "Is it cold, Toodle?"
"Indeed it is," replied Toodle. "Just put your paw out and see."
Noodle did so.
"My goodness me, sakes alive, and some icicle soup!" he cried. "I should say it was cold! There'll be skating this morning, I guess. Is Grandpa Whackum down there?" he called to his mamma, who was already cooking the griddle cakes, and putting the maple sugar on the back of the stove, where it would keep warm.