The Graymouse Family | Page 9

stroll," added Limpy-toes. "Yes, and we saw Pete and Dickie Grasshopper, and Madame Butterfly, also."
"We had our lunch in a lovely grove of ferns," piped Tiny's shrill little voice.
"It was a lovely, cool grove," echoed Teenty, "and we had a nice lunch."
Buster listened sleepily. Now and then he rubbed his stomach.
"Were you lonely, Buster?" asked his mother.
"No, ma'am."
"Did you have a good nap?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you sick, child?" she demanded, anxiously.
"Yes, Mammy," wailed Buster. "It seems as if my little jacket would burst! Boo-hoo!"
Mother Graymouse hastened to get him a hot drink, but poor Buster rolled and tossed upon his little bed.
Grand-daddy Whiskers came puffing up to the attic with a pan of warm biscuits under his arm. Mother Graymouse looked relieved, for Grand-daddy was quite a doctor.
"What shall I do for the poor child, Grand-daddy?" she asked.
"What has he been eating?" was Grand-daddy's first question as he bent over Buster's bed.
"They weren't poison, Grand-daddy, 'cause Ruth Giant was eating 'em her own self," moaned Buster.
"Eating what?" cried Mammy and Grand-daddy in the same breath.
"Chocolates," confessed Buster.
[Illustration: Grand-daddy Whiskers with a pan of warm biscuits under his arm]
"How many?" demanded Grand-daddy sternly.
"Only ten," whimpered Buster.
"I will be right back," said Grand-daddy. "There is a bottle of castor oil on the pantry shelf. That was what the doctor gave Robert when he ate too much candy. You will get a good dose, young man, and then you will feel better. Ten chocolates; the greedy little pig!" he grumbled as he hurried away.
"I won't take castor oil, Mammy!" cried Buster. "It tastes horrid."
"You will take castor oil, Buster," replied Mother Graymouse, "if I have to hold your nose."
Grand-daddy soon returned with the oil bottle and in spite of Buster's kicks and squeals, he managed to pour a big dose down his throat.
In a short time, Granny Whiskers came up to see her sick grandchild.
"I fear that oil will not cure him," she said. "You see, he has been eating a good deal of sweet. What he needs is some sour medicine."
She disappeared down the hole and soon returned with a bottle of vinegar tucked under her plaid shawl.
"Aren't you afraid that vinegar will strangle the poor dear?" protested Mother Graymouse.
"Not a bit of it; not a bit of it! Give me a spoon," directed Granny.
Buster made a wry face as he swallowed the sour dose. Then he began to cough and splutter and choke until Mammy grew frightened.
Uncle Squeaky appeared upon the scene just then.
"Stop that, you young rascal!" he laughed. "That is a very poor imitation of a cough. What you need is neither oil nor vinegar, but a good dose of salt. You are altogether too fresh for a youngster."
Buster stopped choking at once. Soon he began to feel better. Then he called Silver Ears.
"There's ten more chocolates hidden in the toe of the Giant's boot, Silvy," he whispered weakly. "Bring 'em out and eat 'em for supper. I'm not hungry for candy any more."
He rolled over and tried to go to sleep. Silver Ears dived down into the boot toe and pulled out the hidden candies. And so the Graymouse family found two plump chocolates at each place when they sat down to supper.
"It has been a lovely picnic day," lisped Tiny, nibbling her chocolate.
"It has been a real lovely day," echoed Teenty sweetly.
Poor Buster, his face hidden in the pillows, remembered his picnic day--chocolate, castor oil, vinegar, and pain,--and he just scowled and scowled.
CHAPTER VII
SILVER EARS' ADVENTURE
It was a rainy day. Big drops splashed against the window-panes and drummed upon the attic roof.
Silver Ears was restless. She had helped Mammy sweep the floor, had wiped the dishes, and rocked Baby Squealer to sleep. She did not wish to sew any more patchwork squares.
She could hear Ruth Giant laughing softly in the play-room.
"I'd like to be Ruth Giant's pet," she thought wistfully. "That strawberry jam cake was lovely and so were the chocolates and pop-corn. I mean to visit her again. I know Ruth Giant is not an enemy. Mammy need not fear."
She tied her pink ribbon bow under her chin, and without a word to anyone, slipped through a hole into the play-room.
But oh dear me! Ruth Giant had company. A little girl with brown curls and great brown eyes was sitting in Ruth Giant's rocking-chair. Silver Ears hid behind the doll's dresser which stood near the biggest hole. Perhaps Ruth would not want her for a pet to-day. Maybe the other girl would be afraid of a mouse. Some girls were silly just like that. So Silver Ears waited and listened.
"Let's play dinner-party, Dorothy," Ruth was saying. "I like to play dinner-party on rainy days. It is ever so cosy. We must dress the dolls in their prettiest gowns."
The two girls worked busily away putting dainty white dresses