THE CHRISTMAS TREE
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 bring
Wink and Wiggle, Teenty and Tiny. We must all gather princess pine,
evergreen and holly to trim the barn so it will look real
Christmasy."
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?" laughed
Grand-daddy. Then Buster told all he had seen in the night.
"You must have eaten too much cheese for supper," chuckled Uncle
Squeaky. "Cheese always makes me dream."
"But did I dream about Santa, or about you and Grand-daddy and
Mammy?" 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 tree
Hung with gifts so nice.
Jolly little mice are we,
Happy all day long;
So we shout and sing with glee
Our 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.
"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 the
Christmas 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 glee
Our glad Christmas song."
And so ended a merry Christmas day in the Giant's barn loft.