"Or Fourth of July?" asked Toodle, flopping his big, broad tail up and down to see if any mosquitoes had bitten him in the night. But none had, I'm glad to say.
"No, it isn't Fourth of July or Christmas," answered Grandpa Whackum, looking out on the beaver dam that held the waters of the pond from running away. The old gentleman beaver wanted to see if, in the dam, there were any holes that needed mending.
"Today is when your little sister, Crackie, starts for school," went on Grandpa Whackum. He was called that, you know, because he used to whack his tail on the ground to tell when there was danger coming, so the other beavers could go and hide away.
And the little beaver girl was called Crackie because she was always dropping dishes and things and cracking them. She didn't mean to, of course, and lately she didn't drop nearly so many as she used to at first.
"My goodness!" cried Toodle, hopping out of bed. "And so Crackie is to go to school today?"
"Yes; and you and Noodle are to take her," said Grandpa Whackum. "So hurry down to breakfast. You don't want to be late for school the first day Crackie goes, you know."
"No, indeed," said Noodle. "Come on, Toodle, we'll have a race to see who gets dressed first."
So the beaver boys raced at putting on their rubber clothes, which they could wear in the water without getting wet, for beavers are very fond of swimming, you know, and live in the water half the time.
"May I wear my red dress and brown hair ribbons?" asked Crackie of her mamma at the breakfast table.
"I guess so," said Mrs. Flat-tail, who felt a little sorry because her only daughter was growing up big enough to go to school.