The midsummer days were full of good times. Uncle Squeaky sometimes took them for a sail upon Pond Lily Lake; they fished from Polly-Wog Bridge and went splashing about in the water dressed in their bathing-suits. Then there were merry parties of berry pickers who spent the day in the shady woods picking blueberries and raspberries for Mother Graymouse and Aunt Squeaky to preserve.
Buster loved the moonlight evenings when Uncle Squeaky's band, looking very fine in the gay uniforms, marched along the Lake shore and played the music which he had written. He was also delighted when they gathered in the fire-glow around Uncle Squeaky's fireplace and nibbled roasted corn, baked potatoes, toasted cheese, and other goodies. He could not decide which was nicer.
Limpy-toes was generous with his automobile. He was busy, for Grand-daddy's practice was growing larger, and as Limpy-toes was studying medicine, he often went along with Grand-daddy. But he found time to give the little mice many jolly rides along the pine-strewn paths and lanes. Sometimes he allowed Wink or Wiggle to steer and they felt very proud indeed.
One beautiful moonlit night when Limpy-toes had gone with Dr. Whiskers to see Mrs. Hop Toad, a wild plan entered Wiggle's mischievous head.
"Let's borrow the automobile without asking Limpy," he whispered to Wink. "It will be sport to run it all our own selves. This is a dandy evening."
"S'pose something breaks?" objected Wink.
"Huh, you can't hurt the old chug-chug! We'll take turns cranking it. Let's ask Pete and Dickie to go with us."
Stealing quietly away while Scamper and Uncle Squeaky were busy, they managed to start off without being seen.
"Come on for a joy ride, Pete, and fetch Dickie," invited Wiggle.
The Grasshopper brothers hopped briskly in and away they whizzed. Down Grasshopper Lane, through a pine grove, along Skunk Avenue, past the Lake, on and on, only stopping here and there to twist up the spring.
"I'm getting tired of so much twisting," declared Wiggle. "It would be good sport to coast down Crooked Hill."
"Come on!" cried Wink gaily. "Guess we'll not need much twistity there."
"Can you steer straight?" asked Dickie doubtfully.
"Sure I can steer. I wouldn't be afraid in the dark, and this moonlight is as bright as day," bragged Wiggle. "Hold your breath, now."
Crooked Hill was very steep and slippery with pine needles. On either side there were jutting rocks and old pine stumps. At the foot of the hill ran Beaver Brook.
Hold your breath, now
Later that evening, Mr. Jack Rabbit was hopping homeward with a bag of carrots and clover leaves slung over his shoulder.
"Hello, what's this?" he cried. "Limpy-toes Graymouse's automobile, sure as I'm a Bunny! Hi, there, Limpy, are you underneath?"
"Ah, please help us, Mr. Rabbit," came a faint cry from under the wrecked automobile. "It is Wink and Wiggle. Fetch Grand-daddy and Pa Squeaky. Go quick!"
Jack Rabbit threw down his bag of carrots and leaped across the fields as though a hound dog was on his track.
It seemed a long time to the four little fellows under the automobile, but it was really surprising how soon Jack Rabbit returned with help.
Limpy-toes and Grand-daddy had medicines and bandages. Scamper and Uncle Squeaky hauled the cart with its four stout spool wheels.
"Bless my stars!" cried Uncle Squeaky, when he had pulled poor battered Wiggle out from under. "One broken paw, a smashed-in nose, and a black eye! Is Wink much damaged, Grand-daddy?"
"Sprained ankle and a banged head," answered Grand-daddy. "Dickie and Pete have only a few scratches. We'll plaster and bandage 'em up and they will finish their joy ride in the cart. Reckon they'll go up hill some slower than they came down."
Poor Limpy-toes stood and looked at his ruined automobile.
"Can you fix it, Limpy-toes?" asked Jack Rabbit.
"Maybe," sighed Limpy-toes, "but it will take all winter. I shall have to haul it home in pieces. Well, I am glad the twinnies aren't killed."
"They ought to be walloped," growled Scamper. "It's a shame, Limpy-toes, that's what it is!"
It was many weeks before Wink and Wiggle were able to leave their pine-needle beds. Silvy, in her pretty nurse's cap and apron, was kept busy waiting upon her mischievous cousins. Debby Field-Mouse often ran over from her cottage, which she had named the Cosy Retreat, bringing dainties for the poor bruised twinnies to eat.
Poor Granny Whiskers' nerves were badly shaken.
"Ah, Zenas," she moaned, "take us to our dear attic home before some one is killed. You promised me that we should all go home safe and sound, and there lay those precious twinnies, all bandages and plasters. Ah, dearie me! What will happen next? Poor Debbie's house was burned; Wink and Wiggle are all smashed up. Zenas Whiskers, I say we must pack up and go home tomorrow."
"Ah, Granny," grinned Grand-daddy, "Wink and Wiggle are perfectly safe, but I can't truthfully call 'em sound just yet. I must dose 'em awhile before they will be sound enough to go back to the attic. Pine breezes, fresh air and sunshine, Granny, that's what they need. I'm sure Debby Field-Mouse isn't complaining because Pile of Rails burned. She is as happy as a lark in her Cosy Retreat.
"I am having the time of my life. Never was so important and sought after as I've been since Hezekiah stuck that Dr. Whiskers sign in front of my cottage. Ah, no, Granny, we don't leave Pond Lily Lake until snow flies and I'm hoping that it will be a long time from now."
"I'm going after chestnuts tomorrow, Mammy," said Buster one autumn evening.
"We have had a good frost. I think the burrs have cracked open, Buster," grinned Uncle Squeaky.
"I like to roast chestnuts in the winter," lisped Tiny.
"I like to roast chestnuts," echoed Teenty, "and I like to pop corn."
"Those wild grapes you fetched home made delicious jelly," said Mother Graymouse.
"There are red berries dangling from a prickly bush. Shall I fetch some home, Mammy?"
"Barberries," guessed Granny. "There is no better sauce made. Fetch a basketful, Buster."
"Barberry sauce is full of pegs," complained Grand-daddy. "Grape jelly is my favorite sauce."
"Nimble-toes says there's poison ivy and dogwood around here," said Scamper. "Be careful or you'll get poisoned, Buster."
"Yes," added Limpy-toes, "don't touch any bushes except blueberry, cedar, pine, hemlock, sweet fern, bayberry, or peppermint. Those are all safe and you know 'em well."
"For pity sake, Buster, don't get poisoned!" cried Silver Ears. "We hope to get Wink and Wiggle out of doors tomorrow. I'm not anxious for any more patients. I wonder that you let him roam about the woods, Mammy."
"He never goes alone, Silvy," replied Mother Graymouse, calmly.
"Hopsy Toad, and Webbie Spider are going chestnutting with me," said Buster. "I had a nice walk yesterday with Bunny and Bobsey Rabbit. They took me over to Mr. Giant's strawberry bed. What do you think, Mammy! There are ripe red berries and pretty blossoms, now! On the way home, we saw yellow dandelion blossoms. It isn't summer any more; it is frost-time. Everything seems topsy-turvy!"
"Mercy on us!" cried Aunt Squeaky. "Ripe strawberries when it is 'most snow-time!"
"The Giants are a wise folk," explained Grand-daddy. "They grow plants nowadays that bear fruit most of the time. Prob'ly you could find berries on those vines when they are buried under the snow."
"You take a basket and fetch home some strawberries, right now, Buster Graymouse, and I'll bake a strawberry short cake for supper that'll melt in your mouth," promised Aunt Squeaky.
"Take Tiny and Teenty along and show them how to dig dandelions. We will have a mess of greens for dinner tomorrow," planned Mother Graymouse. "Such treats as we have in the country! I am afraid I shall not wish to go back to our attic very soon, Grand-daddy."
"I am not rushing in that direction, myself, Betsey," chuckled Grand-daddy. "Guess we will stay to supper, Granny, and have some of Belindy's short cake. Dot was invited to tea with Mrs. Rabbit, so there's nobody home at our house."
"Of course you must stay," invited Aunt Squeaky. "Buster will fetch plenty of berries."
They had a jolly tea-party with a delicious strawberry cake for dessert to celebrate the first time that Wink and Wiggle had come to the table since the automobile accident.
The next day, Hopsy and Webbie came to go nutting. They carried bags for the chestnuts. Buster took a basket also, for barberries.
They had good fun picking the brown nuts from the soft, silky linings of the burrs.
"The burrs are prickly and the barberry bushes are prickly," said Hopsy.
"Perhaps they are trying to say 'Touch me not!' But we will pick them just the same," laughed Buster.
"Let's get a bouquet of pretty leaves," said Webbie. "Ma would like some for her parlor."
They had good fun picking the brown nuts from the soft, silky linings of the burrs
"There are lovely gold and scarlet leaves on that stone wall," said Buster. "Let's climb and get them."
They were pulling eagerly at the sprays of bright leaves, when along trotted Simon Skunk.
"Hi, there!" he shouted, "leave those leaves alone."
"Don't mind him," said Hopsy. "He is angry because we are getting the pretty leaves."
"Hi! Those leaves are poison," warned Simon again.
"Do you s'pose they are poison?" asked Webbie Spider.
"I don't believe one word that Simon Skunk says," sputtered Buster. "Mr. Giant had a vine like this growing on his piazza. Giants don't plant poison vines."
By-and-by, they arrived at Gray Rock Bungalow laden with bags of chestnuts, plenty of barberries for Granny's sauce, and the pretty autumn leaves twined around their shoulders.
"For the land o' pity!" cried Aunt Squeaky. "Betsey Graymouse, here is Buster with his paws full of poison ivy!"
"Trot out and throw that stuff away at once," commanded Uncle Squeaky. "Only last evening we told you not to touch poison ivy."
"Simon Skunk said that it was poison, but I thought he meant to scare us. I've seen Ruth Giant pick these pretty leaves on her piazza," whimpered Buster.
"The poor kiddie didn't understand, Hezekiah," smiled Mother Graymouse. "Hold up your paw and count the fingers. How many are there, Buster?"
"One, two, three, four, five," counted Buster.
"Yes, and the leaves on Ruth Giant's vine have five fingers. These wild leaves have only three fingers and you must never touch them. You see these berries are waxy white and the berries on Mr. Giant's woodbine were purple. Remember, Buster, unless the leaves have five fingers like your paws, they are poison ivy. Now trot along with Hopsy and Webbie over to Wild Rose Cottage. Tell Grand-daddy all about it and ask him to fix you up."
Dr. Whiskers washed the three scared little patients in salt water.
Sure enough, next morning poor Buster could hardly see out of his eyes
"I am afraid you will be some puffed-up youngsters in the morning," he said. "But I guess you will know poison ivy next time."
Sure enough, next morning poor Buster could hardly see out of his eyes. His face and paws were swelled and puffy and oh, how they itched!
"Simon Skunk meant to be kind to you, Buster, because Grand-daddy had been good to him," said Mother Graymouse.
"Next time I'll mind Simon and leave the old ivy alone, Mammy," promised Buster sadly.
The autumn days passed swiftly. Yellow, crimson, and russet leaves fluttered to the ground. Early in the mornings the grass was frosted in white.
Granny, Mother Graymouse and Aunt Squeaky were busily preparing for winter. In the cool cave behind their bungalow, were rows of jelly glasses; boxes of tiny red apples from the orchard; plenty of little potatoes which the hired men had left in Mr. Giant's garden, and a bucket of fish which Scamper and Limpy-toes had caught and Uncle Squeaky had salted.
"Ah, it is good to have a plenty!" sighed Granny. "Last winter we wondered how we should get our supply of fruit and vegetables. Now we have 'em all stored up. Surely we shall soon start for our dear attic home."
"It is lovely by the Lake," said Mother Graymouse. "I'd like to see ice on the pond before we go home."
"Why, Betsey Graymouse, we would all freeze!" cried Granny.
"It would be horrid," shivered Aunt Squeaky.
Dot Squeaky closed her summer school when the cool days came, and bade her little pupils good-by until another year.
Limpy-toes worked, whenever Grand-daddy could spare him, upon his broken automobile. He bent and patched and mended it until at last the poor old machine would go once more.
"But it is a worse chug-chug than ever," sighed Limpy-toes. "Some day I will build a better one and lock it away from Wiggle's mischievous paws."
Dr. Whiskers shut up Wild Rose Cottage and they all moved over to Gray Rock until they should leave the Lake. But Mrs. Jack Rabbit got a bad cold; Wee Field-Mouse was ill; Squire Cricket sprained his ankle, and all the little Spiders had the measles.
"I cannot leave all these sick folk, Granny," decided Dr. Whiskers.
"There'll be sick folk all winter, Zenas. Must we stay and freeze to death? We'll get sick, also. You promised to go home before snow-time," sobbed Granny.
"So we will, Granny, so we will. The weather is still mild. Never fear; have I not taken good care of you all?"
Then came a day, when to Granny's great joy, Uncle Squeaky announced that they would begin to pack next morning.
"The ground is hard and smooth. It will be easy to pull our cart. We must start before the heavy rains begin," he planned, "for after that there will be deep, frozen ruts."
That last night by the Lake was a merry one. The Field-Mouse family came to spend the evening. Buster sang his sweetest songs, the kiddies recited verses they had learned at school, and Uncle Squeaky's band played for the last time.
"I'll take our instruments over to Wild Rose Cottage and lock 'em up tomorrow," planned Limpy-toes.
"It doesn't seem possible that we shall be back in our attic tomorrow night," said Dot.
"I thought we'd be there long ago," sighed Granny. "Your Grand-daddy is getting slow in his old age."
"Not slow, Granny, just moderate," corrected Grand-daddy. "Which reminds me of two mice I once knew. One mouse never would hurry. Ah, he was slow! He said he'd get through this world soon enough if he went slowly."
Uncle Squeaky hopped up.
"And so, kiddies," he chuckled, "he went poking along like this. He drawled and he droned and was always an hour behind time. Finally the old sleepy-head laid down and died."
"Just so, Hezekiah," nodded Grand-daddy.
The kiddies laughed at Uncle Squeaky's droll antics.
"You walked like Grandpa Turtle, Uncle," laughed Nimble-toes.
"Well," continue Grand-daddy "the other young mouse thought life was so short that he must move like a whirlwind or his work would not get done."
"And so," explained Uncle Squeaky, "he went on a hop, skip and jump like this. He made dust fly in other folks' eyes, a-hustling and a-bustling about until he hardly knew if he was on his head or his heels."
They all shouted as Uncle Squeaky pranced about the room, his coat tails flying out straight behind him.
"I've always believed in being moderate. Neither too fast nor too slow," finished Grand-daddy.
"Do stop being such a clown, Hezekiah," scolded Aunt Squeaky. "Give us a little more music. We shall not hear our band again all winter."
"We have to be real quiet in the Giant's house. Let's stay here with Pa Field-Mouse where we can do as we choose," grinned Uncle Squeaky.
"We are going home tomorrow, Hezekiah Squeaky," said Granny firmly.
'And so,' explained Uncle Squeaky, 'he went on a hop, skip and jump like this'
Tomorrow came.
"What makes it so dark?" wondered Limpy-toes. He lighted a lantern and looked at his watch.
"It is after sun-up, Mammy!" he called. "You don't suppose we are snowed in?"
Uncle Squeaky opened the door. In tumbled a mass of drifted snow.
"Just so, Limpy-toes!" he exclaimed. "Clear up to our roof!"
"We cannot haul our furniture today," said Grand-daddy.
"Snowed in?" wailed Granny. "Ah, whatever will become of us?"
"We will stay right in our cosy bungalow, Granny, until the snow melts," said Uncle Squeaky. "We have plenty of chips and pine cones to keep us warm, and tasty food stored up to eat. We can be comfortable and happy."
"It is a lovely adventure," smiled Dot. "Aren't you glad it snowed, Silvy?"
"Ah, yes," replied Silver Ears, "for now we can stay longer by the Lake. Perhaps Limpy-toes will make us a sled and some skates."
"Don't worry, Granny," said Mother Gray-mouse cheerily. "Grand-daddy and Hezekiah will take care of us. After the storm, they can tramp to the store on the frozen crust and fetch some cheese, matches and sugar. By-and-by, the ground will be bare and they can pull our furniture cart home. Debbie likes winter in the country. I shall enjoy staying a little longer."
There was a scraping sound outside the door.
"Pa Field-Mouse and Nimble-toes have tunnelled under the snow!" exclaimed Aunt Squeaky. "Now we can visit Debby. It is nice to have neighbors in the Cosy Retreat."
"A bad storm, Hezekiah," greeted Pa Field-Mouse. "Guess you'll stay with us a spell longer, Dr. Whiskers."
"Ma sent this thistle-down," said Nimble-toes. "She says it will make warm beds for you."
"Very kind of Debby, I'm sure," said Uncle Squeaky. "We'll be very fine in our downy beds. I will ask Lady Spider to spin us some silk draperies for the windows, Granny. She will do anything we ask. The woodland folk all love Dr. Whiskers. And no wonder. Never a bit of reward has he taken for all the wonderful cures he has made. We'll have a jolly winter, if we must stay. I think it will be grand. Something new in our lives, Granny."
Granny shook her head dolefully.
"Of course the kiddies think it is very fine to be snowed in, but I think the rest of you might have more sense," she scolded. "Come and sit by your old Granny, Buster, and sing your sweet song about our dear attic home."
Buster grinned mischievously.
"I'll sing you a newer one, Granny," he offered sweetly. He folded his paws as Mammy had taught him long ago, tossed his head high and sang merrily:
"Softly all the night longFell the snowflakes white;Jolly little snowflakes,Such a pretty sight!
"All the pines and hemlocks,See them bending low;We are warm and cosyIn our bungalow.
"So we'll play our music,Sing our songs of cheer;For we love the snow-timeBest of all the year."
He folded his paws as Mammy had taught him long ago, tossed his head high and sang merrily
"We love our attic home best of all, Buster Graymouse!" sobbed Granny. "And we can't see the pines and hemlocks bending low. We can't see anything. Ah, dearie me! Snowed in, so far away from our home! It is the first time that Grand-daddy Whiskers ever broke a promise to me. It all comes of his being a doctor! Ah, dearie me, what will happen to us before Spring?"
"That is a question for a wise mouse to answer, but I'm hoping that the next happening will be hot griddle cakes for our breakfast," chuckled Dr. Whiskers.