GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS, M.D.

Nimble-toes Field-mouse trotted briskly along the dark subway and up the steep attic stairway in Mr. Giant's house. He had travelled a long way from his woodland home and it was getting late. The door of the cosy attic where Cousin Graymouse lived was ajar. Nimble-toes paused to get his breath and peep in at the busy, happy family.

Mother Graymouse sat in her rocking-chair singing to little Squealer. Tiny, Teenty and Buster Graymouse were playing upon the floor near by with their cousins, Wink and Wiggle Squeaky. Aunt Squeaky and Uncle Hezekiah were busy around the stove. Grand-daddy and Granny Whiskers sat in the chimney corner waiting patiently for their supper.

From the pantry came Silver Ears Graymouse and Dot Squeaky, bringing food to the table.

"I hope Limpy-toes Graymouse and Scamper Squeaky have not gone away," thought Nimble-toes.

Somebody stole softly up behind him; two paws blindfolded his eyes.

"It is Limpy-toes," he guessed, trying to be brave in that dark, strange place.

"Right you are, Nimble-toes," laughed Limpy-toes. "Scamper and I have been over to the store to get some cheese. I thought you were a burglar, just at first. Push open the door and trot in."

"It is Cousin Nimble-toes!" cried a noisy chorus of little mice.

"It is Nimble-toes Field-Mouse, sure as I'm a mouse!" declared Uncle Squeaky. "Welcome to our attic, my lad."

"You must be hungry after your long tramp, Nimble-toes," said Mother Graymouse. "Supper is all ready."

The little mice crowded around their cousin from the Pond Lily Lake country. They all talked at once, squealing excitedly and asking all sorts of questions, until poor Nimble-toes was bewildered.

At last he climbed upon a little red stool and shouted in Uncle Squeaky's ear:

"I've a message for Grand-daddy Whiskers. Please make 'em be still a minute, Uncle Hezekiah."

Uncle Squeaky rapped smartly upon the floor with his cane. At once there was silence.

"Fetch your little stools and sit down to supper, every last mouse of you!" he commanded. "Let your victuals fill your mouths and stop your noise. Nimble-toes has brought a word for Grand-daddy."

In a twinkling they were all seated around the long table. Nimble-toes sat beside Grand-daddy, so he could talk with him easily, for Grand-daddy's left ear had been torn in a trap and he was somewhat deaf.

"Now we are as still as mice," chuckled Grand-daddy. "Speak out, Nimble-toes."

"I have a message from our woodfolk, Grand-daddy," began Nimble-toes. "No one could write a letter, so they told me what to say. I've said it forty-'leven times, lest I forget. The message is from Pa Field-Mouse, Squire Cricket, Sir Spider, Daddy Grasshopper, Mr. Hop Toad, and Mr. Jack Rabbit. They bade me say this:

"Dr. Grand-daddy Whiskers--

"We woodfolk are sometimes sick; we need a doctor. We wish our children to have a teacher. They must learn to read and write. Our wives must learn to cook and sew. We wish to be civilized. We miss Uncle Squeaky's band. Please come to Pond Lily Lake and help us."

"We'll come, all right, Nimble-toes," interrupted Wiggle.

"We'll surely come," promised Wink. "Hurrah for another summer at Pond Lily Lake!"

"Hush! hush!" cried Mother Graymouse.

"You will put your noses in a dark corner instead of eating supper, if you interrupt again," warned Uncle Squeaky, scowling at his excited twins.

"Are there many sick ones?" asked Grand-daddy.

"Squire Cricket has a sore throat, Lady Spider is ailing, and almost everyone is sneezing," replied Nimble-toes.

"They really need you, Grand-daddy," advised Aunt Belindy Squeaky.

"Our kiddies need the country sunshine after being shut up all winter in this attic," added Mother Graymouse.

"Limpy-toes shall help Grand-daddy, I'll be his nurse, and Dot will make a lovely school teacher," planned Silver Ears.

"I'd love to teach the little Spider, Cricket and Grasshopper kiddies," smiled Dot Squeaky.

"Ah, there's lots of goodies down by the Lake!" reminded Buster. "There's strawberries, blueberries, apples, potatoes, sweet corn--let's go right away, Grand-daddy."

Granny Whiskers sat silently rocking while the others chattered eagerly. Grand-daddy watched her as she wiped away a tear and sighed wearily.

"What do you say, Granny? You enjoyed last summer's vacation at the Lake, didn't you?" he asked.

"Ah, Zenas, it was pleasant enough; pleasant enough, to be sure! But I cannot bear to think of leaving our dear attic home. You went away last winter with Hezekiah and Scamper. And what happened? Why, we nearly fretted our hearts out, waiting for your return. Something was always happening at the Lake. Baby Squealer got lost, Wiggle 'most got drowned, Limpy-toes came near burning to death, and the barn burned to the ground. If you listen to me, Zenas Whiskers, you'll tell Pa Field-Mouse and his neighbors that you cannot be their doctor. Let us stay safely in our attic where there is nothing to harm us."

Grand-daddy looked sadly disappointed.

"I always wanted to live in the country and be a doctor, Granny," he sighed.

"Bless my stars, Granny," laughed Uncle Squeaky, "we found Squealer without much fuss; Nimble-toes fished Wiggle out of the pond, and Limpy-toes didn't get even the patch on his trouser's knee scorched. To be sure, the barn did burn down. Lucky we were at the Lake, I'm thinking. Just take a nap, Granny, and forget your notion that this attic is the safest spot in the world. Nimble-toes' coming has stirred up my Gipsy blood. It is summertime again and the country is the place for your Uncle Hezekiah. We'll start for the Lake as soon as we can pack our belongings, Nimble-toes. Let me give you some more pudding."

"I really feel called to go, Granny," argued Grand-daddy earnestly. "Just think of those kiddies who cannot read or write. You can help Betsey and Belindy teach their mothers how to make these delicious puddings and cookies. You can help me brew medicines. Think of those poor kiddies, as sweet and good as our own pretty ones, and they may be having the colic, or the tooth-ache, the whooping-cough or the measles, and never a doctor to dose 'em with peppermint and cure-all salve. I see that you and I are needed at the Lake."

Granny began to look interested.

"I suppose so, Zenas, I suppose so. I know you are a good doctor, a grand doctor, indeed. But it's a big risk to leave our cosy attic home and travel amid dangers."

"We will go, Granny," decided Grand-daddy. "I promise you solemnly that Hezekiah and I will take good care of our big family and bring you all back, safe and sound, before snow flies."

Granny still looked worried.

"Ah well, Zenas, we shall see! Ah yes, we shall see!" she sighed as she sipped her tea.

After supper the little mice had to show Nimble-toes all the wonderful toys that Uncle and Grand-daddy had brought from the city.

Uncle Squeaky began to pull out boxes and bags in which to pack his shirts and neckties.

"Hurrah, Grand-daddy!" he cried. "I'm as excited as the kiddies. Bless my stars, but they are giving Nimble-toes a jolly good time! Pond Lily Lake until snow flies ah, but it's a great country down there!"

"I'm a-thinking if I do much doctoring and we fetch greedy Buster, little Squealer, and those mischievous twinnies of yours home safe and sound, that it will not be all vacation fun between now and snow-time," said Grand-daddy. "Better tuck the kiddies into the blankets early, Hezekiah. We have a busy day ahead of us on the morrow."

[CHAPTER II]

BACK TO THE LAKE

Their attic home was a bare-looking place by the next evening. All day long the little mice had trotted down the dark subway, carrying their treasures to the entrance near Mr. Giant's back doorstep. Here was hidden the cart which Grand-daddy had made from a stout box and four big spools. It was piled high with furniture, boxes of food and clothing, and all sorts of supplies.

Dot and Silver Ears had rummaged in Mrs. Giant's trunk and chosen pretty pieces of cloth from which they could make dainty summer gowns. Aunt Squeaky and Mother Graymouse had spent the day baking ginger cookies, jelly tarts, and other goodies. Granny Whiskers had helped Grand-daddy make a stout bag and packed it with his precious medicines.

Near their furniture cart stood the wonderful automobile which Limpy-toes had invented and built in the long winter evenings. He had taken the wheels and springs from an old clock in the attic. The whole family was quite proud of Limpy-toes' automobile. Early the next morning, he meant to make a trial trip and take Dr. Grand-daddy to the Lake.

"Please let me ride with you and Grand-daddy, Limpy-toes?" begged Buster.

"Better not, Buster Boy," grinned Uncle Squeaky. "There's a whole load of goodies on our cart. Mammy and Aunt Belindy baked lots of good stuff to eat."

"Mammy will give me some cakes in my pocket. I want to ride in the automobile. Please let me, Limpy?"

"All right," agreed Limpy-toes good-naturedly. "Cousin Nimble-toes may ride also."

Nimble-toes opened his eyes wide.

"Excuse me, if you please, Limpy-toes," he said quickly. "I will help Uncle Squeaky pull the cart. I'm sort of scared of a cart that'll go without pulling or pushing. It may run away with you."

"And it may have to be pushed or pulled," teased Uncle Squeaky.

"It is every bit as good as Mr. Giant's automobile," insisted Buster. "I'm not the leastest bit scared. I know it will go whizzing. Ah, what sport we will have!"

"Grand-daddy will start very early, for he must find a house near his patients. If you wish to ride with Limpy-toes, you must trot off to bed right now, Buster," decided Mother Graymouse. "Aunt Belindy and I are going down cellar to say good-by to Polly Scrabble and her babies."

Next morning, while the Giant family were sound asleep, Grand-daddy, Limpy-toes and Buster tip-toed softly down to the entrance.

"Do not make too much noise cranking your automobile, Limpy-toes," whispered Grand-daddy. "We do not wish to disturb Mr. Giant." Limpy-toes pushed in the key and began to wind the stiff spring.

"See if you can turn it any more, Grand-daddy. Perhaps your paws are stronger than mine."

Grand-daddy gave it several twists. Then Limpy-toes hopped upon the seat and grasped the wheel.

"All aboard for Pond Lily Lake!" he called gaily. Grand-daddy and Buster scrambled in. The automobile made a dash through the chrysanthemum bushes into the driveway. On and on they sped, past the new barn, by the poultry houses and the sweet apple tree. Grand-daddy pulled his cap closer.

"Ah!" cried Buster, "this is fun. But is it running away, Limpy-toes?"

"Oh, no, I am steering it and can stop any minute," answered Limpy-toes.

"A wonderful invention," praised Grand-daddy. "Now if any creature is sick, Dr. Whiskers will be there in a jiffy. Ah! What is the trouble, Limpy-toes?"

The automobile had come to a sudden stop at the edge of Mr. Giant's orchard.

"It has stopped," explained Limpy-toes.

"So I see," chuckled Grand-daddy.

"I'll crank it up." So Limpy-toes pushed in the key and wound, and wound, and wound. Then they started on again.

"Runs fine," said Grand-daddy.

"'Most takes my breath away," gasped Buster. "Say, Limpy-toes, why are we stopping?"

"Run down again, I guess," sighed Limpy-toes.

"Must we stop every few minutes and wear our paws out cranking it up forty-'leven times?" grumbled Grand-daddy.

Again they were off--and again they stopped. This time they were in the middle of Mr. Giant's clover field.

"Sakes alive, Limpy-toes! Suppose I was on my way to see a sick mouse? He'd die maybe, or else be all cured, before I could ever get there."

"Automobiles need lots of twistity," argued Buster. "Mr. Giant has to twist his automobile. I heard Robert Giant say there was twistity in the batteries."

"Why doesn't it go this time?" demanded Grand-daddy.

"The key must have bounced out when we struck that big stone near the ash heap," said Limpy-toes. "I will trot back and find it."

"And I'll take my stout cane and my own strong legs and trot toward the Lake, if you don't mind," decided Grand-daddy. "You and Buster can finish your pleasure trip a little at a time, but I have business to look after and a house to hire before the rest of the family catch up with us."

He started off at a brisk pace. Buster sat on the front seat and nibbled ginger cookies, while Limpy-toes limped back to find the lost key.

By-and-by, Buster's cookies were all eaten, so he strolled off to help Limpy-toes.

"Never mind, Limpy," he said, looking up into his big brother's sad face. "It is a fine automobile, if you do have to twist it often. We can have nice rides around the Lake."

But Limpy-toes would not be comforted.

"I wanted an automobile that would fetch Dr. Grand-daddy to his patients very quickly. I must study until I make better power than this clock spring. Ah, here is the key! We must hurry, or Uncle Squeaky will catch up and laugh to find us by the roadside."

Grand-daddy and Pa Field-Mouse were standing on the bungalow steps talking earnestly together when Limpy-toes drove up.

"A fine automobile, Pa Field-Mouse," said Grand-daddy, waving his paw. "My grandson is a great inventor; he will be famous some day."

"Ah!" cried Buster, "how good our Gray Rock Bungalow looks! See the pretty hemlocks and sweet ferns, Limpy."

"Wait until you see the fine house the neighbors have built for me!" exclaimed Grand-daddy. "They felt sure that I would come. Silvy would call it Wild Rose Cottage. It is a real bower of roses. Here come our folk, now. Wait and I'll tell you all about it."

The heavy furniture cart was pulled down the last hill and stopped at the door of Gray Rock Bungalow. Grand-daddy held up his paw and hushed the merry chatter of the travellers.

"Listen!" he cried. "Do not unload my belongings. These kind woodfolk have made me a splendid house right at the center of their village. I want Limpy-toes to be my helper and stay with me. If Dot teaches school, she must come with us, for her scholars live near by. Granny needs Silvy to help with the housework. She and Dot can be together and when I need a nurse, Silvy will be right handy."

"A fine plan," agreed Uncle Squeaky, "only our family at the Gray Rock will be rather small."

"Limpy-toes will fetch us all over in the automobile every evening," smiled Silver Ears. "I shall love to help Granny and be with Dot. May Limpy-toes and I go, Mammy? You will not mind?"

"Surely you may go, dearie," smiled Mother Graymouse bravely. "You will be happiest where you can do the most good, and Granny needs you just now."

"With such a small family, Betsey and I can manage the work nicely," said Aunt Squeaky.

"Ah, it is good to get back to our woodland home!" cried Uncle Squeaky. "Many paws will soon set our rooms in order. Then we will trot over to Wild Rose Cottage and help Dr. Whiskers get his pine-needle beds ready before moon-rise."

[CHAPTER III]

GRAND-DADDY BEGINS HIS WORK

"Good-morning to you, Grand-daddy!" said Uncle Squeaky cheerily the next morning. "How are all the folk at Wild Rose Cottage?"

"Nicely, Hezekiah, nicely," grinned Dr. Whiskers. "Dot and Silvy are helping Granny make our rooms cosy, and I am going to visit my first patient."

"I want Limpy-toes to go over to Polly-Wog Bridge and help get my boat afloat upon the Lake. I mean to catch some fish and have Belindy fry 'em for dinner."

"Limpy-toes has gone with Nimble-toes to fetch a load of wood. They will soon be at home. It is only a short walk to Sir Spider's house; I shall not need Limpy-toes this morning."

"Is Sir Spider ill?" asked Uncle Squeaky.

"Lady Spider has been cleaning her parlor. She is overtired and ailing and wishes to see me."

"Hm!" said Uncle Squeaky thoughtfully, "I heard Ruth Giant sing a song one day:

'Will you walk into my parlor,
Said the Spider to the fly.'

If I remember aright, that fly came to grief in Lady Spider's parlor. Better watch out, Dr. Grand-daddy."

"Don't worry, Hezekiah, and good-day to you, for I must be on my way. I will keep out of Lady Spider's parlor."

Dr. Whiskers rapped upon Sir Spider's door. Lady Spider opened it.

"Will you walk into my parlor, Dr. Whiskers?" she said sweetly, as she held aside the cobweb draperies of her spick-and-span parlor.

Dr. Whiskers wanted to run away. Those were the very words that Uncle Squeaky had recited!

"Ah, well," he decided quickly, "as I am not a fly and have my stout cane in my paw, I'll be a brave doctor mouse and try to cure Lady Spider. Maybe she is not so sly as some folk think."

So he entered her pretty parlor, admiring the beautiful silken draperies.

"I am glad that you have come to our village, Dr. Whiskers," began Lady Spider, sitting beside him on the moss green divan. "We've had a hard time. Sir Spider lost one of his legs a while ago; but would you believe it--a new one has begun to grow! He feels better and is building a bridge across our brook. I'm just worn out with the Spring cleaning and spinning, and the care of my big family. My eyes ache all the time, Dr. Whiskers."

"Ah, yes! Spring fever, I've no doubt. I have been told that you are very busy,--a skillful weaver and splendid housekeeper. But my dear Lady Spider, health is better than silk draperies. I fear you strain your many eyes searching for dust and dirt. When my one pair of eyes get tired, I have a headache; with your many eyes, you must suffer much pain. But cheer up. I will give you some medicine and you will soon feel like a new Spider. Please fetch a glass of water."

Dr. Whiskers took a bottle of dried checker-berries from his bag. He dropped ten of them into the water.

"These red pills are a splendid tonic. Take a sip of the medicine several times each day and your many eyes will stop aching."

"I will follow your directions carefully, Dr. Whiskers," smiled Lady Spider. "Is there really to be a school where my little Webbie, Spinnie, Tony, and Patty can be taught the civilized ways of your learned family?"

"We have just arrived at the Lake and are hardly settled. There will soon be a school. My grand-daughter, Dot Squeaky, will be the teacher. A sweet young lady mouse she is, if I am her grand-daddy and maybe ought not to boast of her smartness. I must bid you good-day, Lady Spider. I will come in next week and see if you are better."

"A very pleasant call," thought Dr. Whiskers, as he trotted along the country road. "Lady Spider does not seem to be a harmful creature. Hello! Here I am at Squire Cricket's gateway. I must cure his sore throat."

Squire Cricket came to the door. He wore a red flannel around his neck and his voice was hoarse as he greeted Dr. Whiskers.

"Nimble-toes said you needed some medicine," began Dr. Whiskers. "I see you are wearing the red flannel that Granny sent. She believes that red flannel will cure almost anything."

"It's no good," croaked Squire Cricket. "I've worn it ever since Nimble-toes fetched it, and I'm still as hoarse as Grandpa Bull Frog."

"Ah well, if Mistress Cricket will fetch a glass of water, I will fix a gargle that will help you."

He sprinkled some salt into the water which Mistress Cricket brought.

"Now, Squire Cricket, if you will use this mixture, a spoonful every hour, and rub a little cure-all salve under your red flannel at night, we'll soon have your voice as clear as a lark's, and the soreness all gone. How many kiddies shall you send to my grand-daughter's summer school, Mistress Cricket?"

"Our two children, Sammie and Fidelia, must go. I hope Miss Squeaky will teach music. Our children love to fiddle. We all enjoyed Mr. Squeaky's band last summer. It was good news when we heard that you were coming back to the Lake."

Just then, Sammie Cricket hopped excitedly in.

"Oh, Dr. Whiskers, old Daddy Longlegs has had an accident! He wants you to come at once," cried Sammie.

Dr. Whiskers snatched up his bag and rushed across the fields to Daddy Longleg's home.

"I've broken one of my legs, Dr. Whiskers," cried Daddy Longlegs. "Can you mend it for me, or must I limp on a cane the rest of my days?"

"Mend it? Of course I can," laughed Dr. Whiskers. "Let me catch my breath. I hustled some and am puffing considerable. Now then for some splints and a stout string. If you were younger, I'd rub in some cure-all salve and wait for another leg to grow, as Sir Spider's has done. We'll take no chances, however; I'll mend your broken leg."

Dr. Whiskers worked deftly away, setting the broken limb and wrapping it neatly in splints and a white bandage. Now and then he whistled a bit of Mammy's Lullaby, for he was happy in his work.

"It feels 'most as good as new; just a bit stiff," declared Daddy Longlegs. "I don't know how we have managed all these years without a doctor. Welcome to our village, Dr. Whiskers!"

"A beautiful village it is," replied Grand-daddy. "I like to spend my summers near Pond Lily Lake. Now I must say good-day. Don't use that leg for a few days and it will mend all right. No crutches for old Daddy Longlegs this time."

That evening the whole family gathered at Gray Rock Bungalow. Dr. Whiskers had many stories to tell of his first day's practice in the Lake village.

Uncle Squeaky brought out his fiddle and all the little mice stood around his arm-chair and sang their merry songs.

"Come, Dr. Whiskers," called Granny at last, "we must start home. You have had a busy day and Dot wants Limpy-toes to build her school-room tomorrow. Good-night, folkses. Yes, Limpy-toes, I suppose I can ride in your automobile. But do be careful and not break your old Granny's neck. We must all help Grand-daddy to keep his promise to fetch us all safely to our dear attic home before snow flies."

[CHAPTER IV]

DOT SQUEAKY'S SUMMER SCHOOL

The spot which Dot chose for her schoolroom was down in a lane behind Wild Rose Cottage.

Uncle Squeaky helped Scamper and Limpy-toes set four strong corner posts and made a roof of green boughs to shelter the kiddies when it rained; but there were no walls to shut out the fresh air and sunshine. There were rows of green mossy seats and a desk in which Dot could keep her books and papers.

Tiny, Teenty and Buster gathered wild flowers to decorate their pretty school-room.

Pete and Dickie Grasshopper stopped on their way home from the Lake.

"May we come to school, Miss Dot?" asked Dickie.

"Surely; any one who wishes to learn to read and write may come. But you must obey your teacher."

"We could not come every day," said Pete.

"I shall not teach every day," smiled Dot. "One day is lesson day; the next is play day."

"I brought this stick for you," said Dickie, presenting Dot a smooth willow stick. "If Bobsey Rabbit or Tony Spider play any tricks, just give 'em a walloping."

"Thank you, Dickie. I will hang it over my desk, but I think I shall not need to use it."

"She may wallop you, Dickie," laughed Pete as they hopped home.

At last the school-room was finished. Limpy-toes and Buster rode around the village in the automobile and invited the children to come to Miss Squeaky's school. Limpy-toes got quite angry with Grandpa Bull Frog.

"He was ever so impolite, Mammy," he complained. "He said he'd never send his family to a Graymouse school. He said that Uncle Squeaky's band couldn't play as good as the Frog Orchestra, and that Uncle Squeaky didn't know anything about the Lake, if he did make a raft and float around. Ah, Grandpa Bull Frog thinks he is a wonderful fellow!"

Granny Whiskers was interested in the pupils' names which Dot wrote in her school book.

"Pete and Dickie Grasshopper and Sammie Cricket!" she exclaimed. "Why, Dot Squeaky, they are too old to begin school! Baby Wee Field-Mouse and little Squealer won't do a thing but play and squeal."

"I think I can teach them all something, Granny," laughed Dot.

"There's a good many Spider and Grasshopper kiddies," said Silver Ears. "Pete and Dickie have two sisters, Molly and Dolly. Hopsy Toad is a cute little fellow. Topsy Toad must be his twin sister. Webbie, Spinnie, Tony, and Patty Spider! You will have a big school, Cousin Dot."

"Fidelia Cricket is going with Sammie," added Granny. "Ah, I see that Mr. Jack Rabbit is sending his two boys--Bunny and Bobsey. I fear you will have your paws full, Dot."

"If I can manage my two small brothers, I'll not fear the others."

"Tiny and Teenty are great gigglers," said Silver Ears. "It takes Mammy Graymouse to teach them their lessons. If they don't mind, just tell Mammy."

School began upon a lovely summer morning. Dot found many pupils waiting upon the green moss seats.

"What a splendid school! I am proud," she exclaimed as she tossed her pink sun hat upon her desk. "I shall soon teach you some pretty songs, but this morning Fidelia Cricket has promised to fiddle for us."

Fidelia tripped smilingly up to the desk and stood beside Miss Dot while she fiddled a cheery little tune.

Then Dot gave them all some paper and pencils and taught them to write A, B, C. Even Dickie Grasshopper bent over his work, scowling eagerly as he tried to make the pretty letters. To be sure, little Squealer would squeal every time little Wee pinched him, which was quite often, for Wee loved to hear him squeal.

And Bunny Rabbit had to keep trotting out to his lunch basket to nibble the nice yellow carrot that Mother Rabbit had put in for Bunny and Bobsey's lunch.

"They are only babies after all," excused Dot. "They haven't learned school ways and rules."

"Now we will do something else," said Dot by-and-by. "Put away your pencils and I will teach you some numbers. Listen. One and one are two. Everybody say it."

The noisy chorus was almost deafening as they all shouted, "One and one are two!"

"If I should give Hopsy Toad one piece of candy and Dickie Grasshopper should give him one piece, how many would he have?" asked Dot.

Buster waved both paws.

"Well, Buster, how many?"

"Not any; he'd eat 'em up," said Buster.

"But if he did not eat them?" laughed Dot.

Webbie Spider raised his paw.

"You may tell us, Webbie."

"One and one are two pieces of candy," answered Webbie.

"Right. You are a smart scholar, Webbie."

"Then please, Miss Dot, don't give the candies to Hopsy--give 'em to me."

"Now here is a harder problem," went on Dot. "If Bunny Rabbit had two red apples, and I took one away from him, how many red apples would he have?"

"You couldn't do it, Miss Dot!" cried Bunny. "I wouldn't give it to you, so you better not try."

Wiggle Squeaky hopped up excitedly.

"Bunny was saucy. Why don't you get the willow stick, Dot?" he cried.

Bunny turned around and wrinkled his funny pink nose and stuck out his tongue at Wiggle. All the kiddies shouted and laughed.

"Hush! hush!" said Dot sternly. "You must learn not to laugh in school. Wiggle must not meddle. And Bunny--if I had my looking-glass here, so he could see how he looked, I know he wouldn't make such a silly face again. Bunny did not mean to be saucy. He just said what he thought was the truth.

"Now," continued Dot with a smile, "if I had two apples and Bobsey Rabbit took one away from me, how many apples would I have?"

Molly Grasshopper stood up quickly.

"Not any apple, Miss Squeaky!" she cried, "'cause Bunny would grab the other one."

"Now once more; how many are one and one?"

"One and one are two!" they recited in a shrill chorus.

"Right. You all remember very nicely," praised Dot.

So the lessons went merrily on all that long summer day.

"I shall need you to help me, Silvy," said Dot after school when the cousins were strolling together among the wild blossoms. "I have a big class and they are such lively youngsters that it will take some time to tame them. But it is real fun."

"I'll love to come if Doctor Grand-daddy doesn't find any patients for me to nurse," agreed Silver Ears. "Let's ask Limpy-toes to take us over to Gray Rock Bungalow in the automobile tonight. Mammy and Aunt Squeaky will wish to hear about your school."

"I must ask Pa Squeaky to fetch his fiddle and teach the kiddies some new music. Mrs. Cricket wants Sammie and Fidelia to have lessons on their fiddles."

Dot entertained the whole family that evening with her school stories. They laughed heartily over Bunny and Bobsey.

"They must be real baby clowns!" chuckled Uncle Squeaky. "Never mind, Dot, keep at 'em until they all learn their A, B, C's and remember to keep your willow walloping stick handy."

[CHAPTER V]

A WOODS FIRE

"Mercy on us, Hezekiah! It seems as if I could smell smoke!" cried Aunt Squeaky one hot summer afternoon.

"Now, Belindy, please don't begin sniffing for smoke," grinned Uncle Squeaky. "I haven't heard you mention smoke for quite a spell."

"I can smell smoke, Pa," said Wink.

"So can I," agreed Wiggle.

"Bless my stars, I guess you can!" exclaimed Uncle Squeaky as he went to the door. "Is the whole village afire?" Off he started without even snatching up his cap. The smoke rolled up in great, choking clouds.

"Oh, dearie me!" moaned Granny, "the woods are all afire. We shall all be burned. Why didn't we stay safely in our dear attic home? Oh, dearie me!"

"I hope Wild Rose Cottage and Dot's schoolroom down in Grasshopper Lane will not burn," sighed Aunt Squeaky. "This is a play day, so the kiddies are not in school."

"I'm going to the fire," decided Mother Gray-mouse. "Perhaps I can help. Get some buckets, Limpy-toes. I will call Scamper, Buster, Wink, and Wiggle. We cannot let the village burn up."

Most of the woodfolk were at the fire. Some poured on pails of water from the Lake; other groups stood talking wildly as they watched the leaping flames.

"I wish we had engines and hose-reels like the Giant fire-men used when the barn was on fire," sighed Silver Ears.

Uncle Squeaky ran here, there, and everywhere; filling pails, pouring water, beating burning bushes with Mother Graymouse's best broom, and shouting excited orders to the crowd of scared woodland folk.

The fire crept nearer to Wild Rose Cottage.

"It will be a shame if Dr. Whiskers loses his new house," said Sir Spider.

"He shall not lose it," replied Uncle Squeaky. "I'll set a back fire." He rushed into the house and got a pawful of matches. Then he set fire to the little bushes behind Grand-daddy's house.

"Neighbor Squeaky has gone crazy!" declared Sir Spider to Daddy Grasshopper. But as they watched him beat the burning bushes to a blackened mass, they saw that Uncle Squeaky knew what he was doing.

"Neighbor Squeaky has saved Dr. Whisker's house. That burned patch cannot burn again, Sir Spider," cried Daddy Grasshopper. "Come on. We will make a little fire around Pa Field-Mouse's cottage."

"Pile of Rails Cottage is on fire!" cried Scamper Squeaky as he trotted by. "Come on and help Pa Field-Mouse!"

They rushed to the Field-Mouse's Cottage, but the little cedars which overhung the roof were already a mass of crackling flames. "Nothing more can be saved for Neighbor Field-Mouse. Help me build back fires up yonder and save Neighbor Hop Toad's house."

They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain, and, following his directions, they finally stopped the dreadful fire. Then tired out, they sat under the laurel bushes to rest and talk it over.

"How did the fire start?" asked Uncle Squeaky.

"One of those Skunk kids was trying to smoke a grape-vine cigarette," piped Tony Spider. "I saw him."

"Where did he get matches?" demanded Uncle Squeaky.

"Prob'ly he stole 'em," sputtered Mistress Grasshopper. "I should think Dinah Skunk would wallop those little Skunks forty times a day. They are a mean crowd."

"And poor Debbie Field-Mouse's home is in ruins, all because of little Skunk's cigarette. Sniff! sniff! sniff!" cried Mother Graymouse.

"A Lake full of water and no way to put out a fire," scolded Aunt Squeaky. "I guess likely, Hezekiah, I shall worry some more about smoke. Let me catch a kiddie smoking cigarettes!"

"Poor Debbie! I'm so sorry for you, dearie," moaned Granny Whiskers.

Debby Field-Mouse smiled calmly.

"Ah, Granny, it might be worse. I have lost eight children in an earthquake; I have been caught out in a blizzard and nigh frozen to death. No one is hurt and we saved a few things. Maybe we can build a finer house."

"Right you are, Debby Field-Mouse, and brave, also!" cried Uncle Squeaky admiringly. "We will all lend a paw and you shall have a nice new house right beside my Gray Rock Bungalow. Then you and Betsey and Belindy can be real neighborly. You must stay at our house until your new home is ready. What do you say, neighbors? Shall we begin Pa Field-Mouse's bungalow bright and early tomorrow?"

Sir Spider, Squire Cricket, Mr. Hop Toad, Jack Rabbit, and Daddy Grasshopper nodded approvingly.

"We will all help," they promised.

Debby Field-Mouse looked sadly at the blackened ruins of her old home; then taking Mother Graymouse's arm, she led little Wee to Uncle Squeaky's home. The others went homeward, also, for it was getting late.

"A little music is like medicine to a sad mouse," said Uncle Squeaky after supper. "Pa Field-Mouse seems down-hearted tonight. Trot along, laddies, and put on your band uniforms that Ma Graymouse made last summer. We will give Pa Field-Mouse a band concert."

Grand-daddy nodded his head.

"A grand idea, Hezekiah. Melodious music makes many melancholy mice merry. Ha! ha! That's nearly as good as the jingle Robert Giant used to sing about 'Picker Peter's peppered pickles.'"

Buster Graymouse hopped up and down in delight. He laughed until the tears ran down his fat cheeks.

"What's the trouble, Buster Boy?" asked Grand-daddy. "Did you eat too much supper?"

"No, Grand-daddy, but my little jacket is nearly bursting. Ah, that is too funny! Guess I shall laugh all night."

"I fear you have outgrown your band suit, Buster," said Mother Graymouse. "I shall have to give you less to eat."

"Ah no, Mammy!" cried Buster in alarm. "Please don't starve me. Oh! oh! What Robert Giant realty said was:

"'Peter picked a pint of pickled pipers.'"

"What's pipers, Buster?" asked Tiny.

"I don't know; prob'ly something good to eat. It was one of Robert's funny songs, twinnie. I can make nicer songs myself," bragged Buster.

"All ready for the concert!" shouted Uncle Squeaky.

Wink and Buster found their cornets; Limpy-toes brought his flute, Wiggle his fife, Scamper the alto horn, and Nimble-toes his beloved drum. At a signal from Uncle Squeaky, the little band began to play Silvy's Waltz.

It was late when they had played all the music they could remember. The moonlight cast long shadows over the dewy grass and even the Frog Orchestra was hushed and listening.

"Now your Uncle Hezekiah will play a goodnight jig." Uncle Squeaky hopped nimbly up and played such a jolly tune upon his fiddle that they all joined paws and danced in a circle about him.

"Enough! enough, Hezekiah!" panted Grand-daddy at last. "We must rest if we expect to build a bungalow tomorrow. I shall not be Dr. Whiskers, but just a good neighbor mouse tomorrow. I reckon my patients can wait while I have one vacation day. Hurrah for a holiday and a fine new house for Neighbor Field-Mouse! Come, Granny, we're homeward bound. Fetch the automobile, Limpy-toes. I hope the twistity will not give out. Good-night, folkses, goodnight!"

[CHAPTER VI]

DR. WHISKER'S BUSY DAY

Neighbour Field-Mouse's new bungalow was begun before sunrise next morning. Squire Cricket and Daddy Grasshopper brought their saws, Jack Rabbit and Mr. Hop Toad had shovels, and all the neighbors came with axes, hammers and other tools ready for work.

"Pa Field-Mouse has chosen this spot under the laurel bush," explained Uncle Squeaky. "First we must dig a cellar where he can store his winter's food."

"Don't forget that I want a stone fireplace just like yours, Mr. Squeaky," reminded Debby Field-Mouse. "And a dining-room, also, if you please."

"Ah, yes, Debby! A good living-room, a big pantry--you shall have all the fixings."

They worked busily away. By-and-by, Grand-daddy Whiskers paused to look around.

GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS, M.D.

By

NELLIE M. LEONARD

Illustrated By

CARLE MICHEL BOOG

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS