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.