THE GRAYMOUSE HOME

Mother Graymouse, with her family lived in a cosy attic which was as snug and comfortable as any good mouse could wish.

Her children were named Limpy-toes, Silver Ears, Buster, Teenty and Tiny, and Baby Squealer. Although they had many faults, upon the whole they were good children and made a happy family.

On pleasant mornings, the sun shone in bright and warm through the dainty cobweb curtains of their east window. In the summer-time, robins and orioles sang sweetly among the green branches of the maple tree which shaded the west window. Even when it stormed, Mother Graymouse and her little ones enjoyed the patter, patter of the rain-drops upon the roof and window-panes. They were thankful for such a good home.

The house in which they lived belonged to a family of giants. There was Mr. Giant, his wife, and two little Giants. The little girl was a pretty child named Ruth, with blue eyes and long yellow curls. Her brother, Robert, looked almost exactly like her, except that his yellow curls were shorter, he wore bigger boots that made more noise, and instead of playing with dolls and tea-sets he liked balls and bats and air-rifles.

After Mr. Giant had fitted up half of the attic for his children's play-room, life was much jollier for the little Graymouses. The steam heat from the play-room came through the cracks and made their home as warm as toast.

Limpy-toes and Silver Ears worked busily away until there were three holes through which they could steal softly in and watch Ruth and Robert at their play.

Since Christmas the attic had become a merry, noisy place.

"I wonder how those young Giants manage to make such a racket?"
grumbled Mother Graymouse. "I've been trying for an hour to rock Baby
Squealer to sleep and the poor dear is wide awake now. Such a din,
I've seldom heard."

"It's their Christmas presents, Mammy," replied Silver Ears. "Ruth has a toy piano."

"And Robert blows his new cornet and beats his drum," finished
Limpy-toes.

"He must like to work so hard," drawled Buster.

"Oh, it's jolly fun!" cried Tiny.

"It's jolly fun," echoed her twin Teenty.

"Maybe it is," said Mother Graymouse, "but I'd like to chew a hole in those toys that would let out all the noise. With their racket and Squealer's howling, I'm almost crazy. Here, Silver Ears, sit by the cradle and amuse the baby. I must try to find something for our supper. Buster, I want you to help the twins set the dishes on the table while I am gone. Don't shirk now. Even if Limpy-toes is so lame, he helps me far more than you do. See the nice dish he is carving out of a walnut shell for me. I shall cook his favorite pudding in it to-morrow as a reward for his patient toil. Aren't you ashamed to be idle when your poor crippled brother tries so hard to help his mother? Now be good children and don't quarrel." She slipped on her gray coat and the bonnet trimmed with blue ribbons and whisked out of sight down a hole in one corner of the attic floor.

Silver Ears left little Squealer to cry himself to sleep while she stood on tiptoe before the old cracked looking-glass and tied a pink ribbon in a bow under her chin.

"Where did you get that ribbon, Miss Prinky?" asked Buster.

"In the play-room," laughed Silver Ears. "It used to belong to the doll, but now it belongs to me."

"You look very sweet, Silvy," lisped Tiny.

"You're sweet, Silvy," chimed in Teenty.

Silver Ears made them a charming bow. "I thank you, twinnies! I'll bring you both something nice from the play-room some day. Now hurry! Mammy will soon return and you haven't even laid the table-cloth. Run and get the spoons from the cupboard, Buster, or I'll tell Mammy to put you to bed without any supper. Oh, that baby! Can't you jiggle the cradle, Limpy-toes, while you finish digging out the dish?"

Mother Graymouse looked very sober when she came home. She took a cracker and some stale cake crumbs from her pocket.

"This is all I could get to-night, my dears," she explained sadly. "That wicked Thomas Cat is prowling about and I had to be careful. It is snowing and the drifts are very deep, so I did not dare go across the street to the store. Ah well, we shall not starve."

"Never mind, Mammy," said Limpy-toes. "Crackers and cake crumbs are nice."

"By and by it will be summer, Mammy, and then we can all go out to hunt for food," added Silver Ears cheerfully.

"But I want some cheese with my cracker," whimpered Buster.

"When your poor Daddy was alive, we had cheese or meat for every meal. He was a wonderful provider. And so clever! What other family has a cradle like ours? And my rocking-chair—I'm quite proud of it. He made 'em all,—every stick of furniture we have, with his own clever paws. Poor Daddy, I miss him so! It is a cold world for a lone widow to be left in with six small children." Mother Graymouse sighed and wiped a tear away with her handkerchief.

The five little mice tiptoed to their places at the table very quietly, for Limpy-toes had rocked Baby Squealer to sleep at last. They ate their supper in silence. Only Tiny and Teenty whispered and giggled softly to each other.

Suddenly there was a great scrambling and scratching outside.

"It is Uncle Squeaky!" cried Limpy-toes.

"He's coming up the elevator," decided Silver Ears.

"Oh, how lovely to have a visit from Uncle Squeaky on a snow-stormy night!" and the twins ran a race to the attic entrance.

"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.