Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D Part 1

Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.

by Nellie M. Leonard.

CHAPTER I

A MESSAGE FROM THE WOODFOLK

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."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Somebody stole softly up behind him, two paws blindfolded his eyes.]

"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 Gra.s.shopper, 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!"

"Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+" 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 suns.h.i.+ne 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 Gra.s.shopper 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."