“Oh, dear me! By the great cat’s tail! This is most awful!” exclaimed Mrs. Mouse, bursting into tears.
“Go tell the Teenie Weenies!” shouted her husband. “They will come and help me out.”
Mrs. Mouse ran over to the shoe house, and climbing up the front steps she rapped so hard that she scratched half the paint off the tiny door. Between bursts of tears Mrs. Mouse told the Teenie Weenies about her husband and the little people promised at once to help.
“Dear Mrs. Mouse,” said the Lady of Fashion, trying to comfort the tearful mouse, “you must calm yourself. You must try to be calm.”
“Great cat’s claws!” exclaimed Mrs. Mouse, “I’d like to see you be calm with a husband in a fruit jar,” and she burst into another fit of crying as she hurried back to her imprisoned husband, followed by the Teenie Weenies.
The Teenie Weenies quickly put up a ladder which they had brought with them, and the Doctor was soon lowered into the jar, where he found the poor mouse had two badly sprained legs. The General ordered the big windlass brought up, and when a derrick had been built on top of the fruit jar out of three strong clothespins the injured mouse was bundled into the biggest teenie weenie tablecloth and pulled out.
As it was late the Teenie Weenies decided to make the poor mouse as comfortable as possible, for it was quite a long way to the mouse’s home, and they thought that after a night’s rest he could stand the trip with less pain.
The little men made him a soft bed under the cellar stairs, and after he had eaten a Welsh rarebit, which the Cook brought to him, he fell into a sound sleep with Mrs. Mouse sitting watchfully by his side.