Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.

Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.

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Title: Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.
Author: Nellie M. Leonard
Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7808] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on May 18, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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Produced by Juliet Sutherland, S.R. Ellison and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS, M.D.
By
NELLIE M. LEONARD
Illustrated By
CARLE MICHEL BOOG

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
A MESSAGE PROM THE WOODFOLK
CHAPTER II
BACK TO THE LAKE
CHAPTER III
GRAND-DADDY BEGINS HIS WORK
CHAPTER IV
DOT SQUEAKY'S SUMMER SCHOOL
CHAPTER V
A WOODS FIRE
CHAPTER VI
DR. WHISKER'S BUSY DAY
CHAPTER VII
TWIN TAILS
CHAPTER VIII
WIGGLE BORROWS THE AUTOMOBILE
CHAPTER IX
AUTUMN LEAVES
CHAPTER X
SNOWED IN

ILLUSTRATIONS
Somebody stole softly up behind him; two paws blindfolded his eyes
"All aboard for Pond Lily Lake!" he cried gaily
The heavy furniture cart was pulled down the last hill
"Will you walk into my parlor, Dr. Whiskers?"
Dr. Whiskers worked deftly away, setting the broken limb
Webbie Spider raised his paw
They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain
The little band began to play Silvy's Waltz
Dr. Whiskers twisted and pulled upon the hook
It was long past midnight when tired old Grand-daddy pulled off his boots.
"Fetch that creoline bottle, Silvy," repeated Grand-daddy sternly.
"Hold your breath, now"
They had good fun picking the brown nuts from the soft, silky linings of the burrs.
Sure enough, next morning poor Buster could hardly see out of his eyes.
"And so," explained Uncle Squeaky, "he went on a hop, skip and jump like this"
He folded his paws as Mammy had taught him long ago, tossed his head high and sang merrily.

GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS M.D.
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."
[Illustration: 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