"Grand-daddy, did you trim our tree, or did Santa?" he demanded.
"Why do you ask such funny questions, Buster Boy?" laughed
Grand-daddy. Then Buster told all he had seen in the night.
"You must have eaten too much cheese for supper," chuckled Uncle
Squeaky. "Cheese always makes me dream."
"But did I dream about Santa, or about you and Grand-daddy and
Mammy?" insisted Buster.
"Well, that's the question," grinned Uncle Squeaky as he walked off, leaving Buster very much puzzled.
They left the presents on their tree all Christmas day. In the evening, they held a concert.
Uncle Squeaky played upon his fiddle and Buster sang his newest song:
"We are merry as can be,
Happy little mice,
Gathered round our Christmas tree
Hung with gifts so nice.
Jolly little mice are we,
Happy all day long;
So we shout and sing with glee
Our glad Christmas song."
Then Grand-daddy played Santa and distributed the gifts.
"Oh, I think the hay loft is nicer than our attic home, after all," laughed Silver Ears.