"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."