Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D Part 8

"Are you all better, Teenty?" whispered Tiny, as they drove home to Gray Rock Bungalow.

"Ah, yes, all better, Tiny," lisped Teenty. "You all said I daresn't cut it. I think it is lovely to wear a short tail. Now you and I are real honest-and-true twinnies again, Tiny."

CHAPTER VIII

WIGGLE BORROWS THE AUTOMOBILE

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 splas.h.i.+ng 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 sh.o.r.e 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 d.i.c.kie 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 d.i.c.kie," invited Wiggle.

The Gra.s.shopper brothers hopped briskly in and away they whizzed. Down Gra.s.shopper 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 twist.i.ty there."

"Can you steer straight?" asked d.i.c.kie 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_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.

"h.e.l.lo, 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. "d.i.c.kie 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 ap.r.o.n, 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 suns.h.i.+ne, 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."

CHAPTER IX

AUTUMN LEAVES

"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."