"Stop winding," directed Silver Ears, "and old Tom will soon take another nap."
When Mother Graymouse returned, Silver Ears had the shopping bag neatly mended and there was plenty of thread upon their spool.
"I meant to have gone for it myself. And I had told you, Silvy, never to go to the play-room without asking," she scolded.
"I'm sorry I disobeyed, Mammy," said Silver Ears. "You see, we needed the thread so badly and it was such fun to fool old Tom, that I forgot what you said. Please forgive me, Mammy?"
"Yes, dear, I will forgive you this time. But oh, such a risk!" she sighed.
Next day, Silver Ears discovered that all three of the holes into the play-room had been stuffed with yellow soap.
"The nasty tasting stuff!" she scolded. "How can we ever get it out?If we chew new holes, I suppose they will be stuffed, too."
When Mother Graymouse called upon Granny Whiskers, she found her in great trouble.
"The cookies are shut tight in pails. The cheese and meat are covered. The only food in sight is set around on the pantry shelves in traps. The Giants mean to starve us out. Such terrible times as have befallen us!" she moaned.
Uncle Squeaky was of the same opinion. Mr. Giant had been very angry when he found the pumpkin play-house that Wink and Wiggle had made. He found fault because his choice red apples were nibbled.
"And now," continued Uncle Squeaky in a disgusted tone, "the whole cellar is full of traps."
They held a serious counsel,—Grand-daddy and Granny Whiskers, Uncle and Aunt Squeaky, and Mother Graymouse. They talked until midnight. When the clock struck twelve, Grand-daddy summed it all up.
[Illustration: The only food in sight is set around on the pantry shelves in traps.]
"This has been going on for some time. War is now declared. Our enemies are stronger, wiser and richer than ourselves. Daddy Graymouse has lost his life, Limpy-toes had lost some toes, and I have lost a generous piece out of one ear. We must consider the safety of our children. It is wise, therefore, to retreat before it is too late," he finished, looking very solemn. The other four wagged their heads in approval.
Next morning when all the little Graymouses were eating their breakfast food, Mother Graymouse announced soberly, "My dears, we are going to move."
"Out into the country?" cried Silver Ears and Buster at once.
"Out into the barn."
"Oh, dear!" wailed five little mice.
"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.
"Listen, dearies," argued Mammy patiently. "Our lives are no longer safe in this attic. Our enemies are cruel. We must go. But Grand-daddy and Uncle Squeaky will go with us. You will have Dot, Scamper, Wink and Wiggle for playmates. Just think what fun you ten children will have together. Uncle Squeaky knows a snug place in the hay loft where we can live in safety. There's plenty of grain in the barrels and the store is still across the street. We older folk may even venture into the Giant's pantry now and then. But we think it best to take you children out of danger."
"It might be worse," remarked Limpy-toes.
"I shall love to have Cousin Dot with us," smiled Silver Ears.
"And Wink and Wiggle," added the twins.
"Prob'ly Granny will make us some ginger cookies," drawled Buster."But oh, Mammy, what hard work it will be to move!"
"It will, indeed," agreed Mother Graymouse, "so I think, Buster, that you may as well start right now to help me pack. There's my rocking chair, Squealer's cradle and high-chair, all your little beds and stools, besides my dishes,—it makes me weary just to think of it."
"We must not forget our needles and thread," said Silver Ears. "I mean to rummage in these trunks and get a whole lot of stuff for dresses and bonnets and patchwork. And our shopping bag—we must not forget that."
Each night as it grew dusky, a busy little procession marched to the barn, laden with their household goods. It took a long time, for they meant to stock up as heavily as possible for the coming winter.
But at last, Granny wrapped herself in her plaid shawl, slipped a bottle of castor oil and another of vinegar into her skirt pocket, and said good-by to her pantry home. Uncle Squeaky, with his precious fiddle tucked under his arm, joined her and Grand-daddy. Then followed Mother Graymouse and her little brood, with Aunt Squeaky and the cousins.
But the next week was Thanksgiving. Granny, Mammy and Aunt Squeaky were good cooks and they forgot their sadness in their preparations to celebrate the holiday. And so it was a jolly, thankful party which sat down to the feast at Grand-daddy Whisker's long table which was laden with good things for their Thanksgiving dinner.
[Illustration: A busy little procession marched to the barn.]
It was twilight time. Silver Ears, Dot and Buster were sitting in the fragrant hay. Over in another corner of the loft, Wink and Wiggle were playing a game of tag with the Graymouse twins.
"Let's have a Christmas tree next week, like the young Giants did last year," proposed Silver Ears.
"All trimmed with pop-corn and candy!" exclaimed Buster. "Oh, Silvy, that would be grand!"
"Let's go right now and find Scamper and Limpy-toes," said Dot. "We will ask them to help us choose a tree and bring it home. There is lovely moon-light, out of doors."
Mother Graymouse and Aunt Squeaky said they might go to the woods if they would be very careful. So they dressed warmly and started out.
They met Limpy-toes and Scamper dragging home the shopping bag filled with delicious cream cheese from the store.
They readily agreed to help find a tree. Limpy-toes led the way. He remembered seeing a pretty little cedar tree down by the pond when they had visited Cousin Field-Mouse.
It was a long walk, but at last they found it, all powdered with snow which sparkled in the moonlight.
Such a frolic! They took turns hacking away at it with their tiny hatchet, giving merry squeals when the cedar twigs pricked their paws. Then they dragged it home, making a funny path in the snow.
"To-morrow we will come again," planned Scamper, "and we will bringWink and Wiggle, Teenty and Tiny. We must all gather princess pine,evergreen and holly to trim the barn so it will look realChristmasy."
All that week, the children had a jolly time. They made holly wreaths dotted with red berries, and yards of evergreen trimming. Grand-daddy set the cedar tree in one corner where it looked very grand.
Uncle Squeaky slipped into the Giant's pantry one evening, when his keen nose smelled pop-corn, and came back with a load of the fluffy white stuff.
"Get your needles, children," called Mother Graymouse, "and we will string some pop-corn for the tree."
They sat in a circle upon the barn floor around the heap of corn and sewed it into strings which Granny Whiskers tossed upon the branches of their tree. Granny was as interested as the youngsters in the Christmas doings.
Another evening, Uncle Squeaky brought home some peppermints and checkermints.
"Here, kiddies, sew some thread through these candies and hang 'em on your tree," he grinned.
"Oh, how pretty!" cried Dot, when the pink and white candies were swinging among the green branches.
At last came Christmas Eve.
"We have a Christmas tree and it is all trimmed lovely," lisped Tiny, "but do you s'pose there'll be any presents like Ruth and Robert Giant had on their tree?"
"They say that Santa comes down from the North Pole on his sled drawn by swift reindeer and brings a great pack filled with presents for good little mice," said Grand-daddy.
"But you must all go to bed early, for he would not want you peeping while he trimmed your tree," added Granny.
It was not easy to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. But at last, Baby Squealer stopped squealing; the twins giggled themselves to the Land of Nod; Wink and Wiggle could not keep their heavy eyes open any longer; and the four oldest children went sound asleep, for they had worked hard that day cracking nuts for Mammy's cake and seeding raisins for Aunt Squeaky's Christmas pudding.
When the clock struck eleven, strange to say, it was Buster's eyes which were still wide open. He was usually very sleepy, but to-night he was very curious. He wanted to see Santa trim that tree. So he winked and he blinked under his blankets, keeping real still and pretending to be asleep.
And what do you think? Grand-daddy began to hang pieces of cheese on the tree! Aunt Squeaky tiptoed in with a pile of cute little hemstitched handkerchiefs; Mammy had a handful of gay ribbon bows and neckties; and Granny was hanging up ten pair of scarlet mittens. Uncle Squeaky brought in a red double-runner sled and pushed it under the tree!
"I guess Santa is a joke," chuckled Buster sleepily. "Won't we have fun sliding on that double-runner Uncle has made!"
Quite happy, he closed his eyes and went sound asleep.
He awoke suddenly when the clock struck one. There was a jingle of sleigh bells; the reindeer were racing across the frozen snow; and there, in the bright moonlight, was old Santa trimming their tree!
Buster gazed in wonder while the fat old fellow tied on handkerchiefs, red mittens, cream cheese, ribbon bows and candies. Why, he was even pushing a sled under the tree!
"That is queer," thought Buster drowsily.
Bright and early next morning, ten little mice were dancing about their tree. Sure enough, Buster found it loaded with the very presents he expected.
"Grand-daddy, did you trim our tree, or did Santa?" he demanded.
"Why do you ask such funny questions, Buster Boy?" laughedGrand-daddy. Then Buster told all he had seen in the night.
"You must have eaten too much cheese for supper," chuckled UncleSqueaky. "Cheese always makes me dream."
"But did I dream about Santa, or about you and Grand-daddy andMammy?" 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 treeHung with gifts so nice.Jolly little mice are we,Happy all day long;So we shout and sing with gleeOur 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.
"So it is," agreed Limpy-toes.
"Because we are all living together," said Dot.
"I think we have nicer things to eat," drawled Buster.
"And we love to play with Wink and Wiggle," lisped Tiny.
[Illustration: "Jolly little mice are we,Happy all day long;So we shout and sing with gleeOur glad Christmas song"]
"Yes, my children, it is indeed a Merry Christmas this year," said Grand-daddy. "We are safe and snug in a comfortable home with plenty to eat. I just heard that our old enemy, Thomas Cat, has been run over by Mr. Giant's automobile. He will worry us no more. Your uncle and I are making a profound study of traps. We no longer fear them, because we understand them.
"Come, Uncle Squeaky, tune up and we will all dance around theChristmas tree and sing Buster's new song with right good will."
The jolly old moon, peering through the one dusty window-pane, saw a frolicsome circle of mice join hands and dance around a little cedar tree. They were singing merrily:
"Jolly little mice are we,Happy all day long;So we shout and sing with gleeOur glad Christmas song."
And so ended a merry Christmas day in the Giant's barn loft.