"Pile of Rails Cottage is on fire!" cried Scamper Squeaky as he trotted by.

"Come on and help Pa Field-Mouse!"

They rushed to the Field-Mouse's Cottage, but the little cedars which overhung the roof were already a ma.s.s of crackling flames. "Nothing more can be saved for Neighbor Field-Mouse. Help me build back fires up yonder and save Neighbor Hop Toad's house."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain._]

They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain, and, following his directions, they finally stopped the dreadful fire. Then tired out, they sat under the laurel bushes to rest and talk it over.

"How did the fire start?" asked Uncle Squeaky.

"One of those Skunk kids was trying to smoke a grape-vine cigarette,"

piped Tony Spider. "I saw him."

"Where did he get matches?" demanded Uncle Squeaky.

"Prob'ly he stole 'em," sputtered Mistress Gra.s.shopper. "I should think Dinah Skunk would wallop those little Skunks forty times a day. They are a mean crowd."

"And poor Debbie Field-Mouse's home is in ruins, all because of little Skunk's cigarette. Sniff! sniff! sniff!" cried Mother Graymouse.

"A Lake full of water and no way to put out a fire," scolded Aunt Squeaky.

"I guess likely, Hezekiah, I shall worry some more about smoke. Let me catch a kiddie smoking cigarettes!"

"Poor Debbie! I'm so sorry for you, dearie," moaned Granny Whiskers.

Debby Field-Mouse smiled calmly.

"Ah, Granny, it might be worse. I have lost eight children in an earthquake; I have been caught out in a blizzard and nigh frozen to death.

No one is hurt and we saved a few things. Maybe we can build a finer house."

"Right you are, Debby Field-Mouse, and brave, also!" cried Uncle Squeaky admiringly. "We will all lend a paw and you shall have a nice new house right beside my Gray Rock Bungalow. Then you and Betsey and Belindy can be real neighborly. You must stay at our house until your new home is ready.

What do you say, neighbors? Shall we begin Pa Field-Mouse's bungalow bright and early tomorrow?"

Sir Spider, Squire Cricket, Mr. Hop Toad, Jack Rabbit, and Daddy Gra.s.shopper nodded approvingly.

"We will all help," they promised.

Debby Field-Mouse looked sadly at the blackened ruins of her old home; then taking Mother Graymouse's arm, she led little Wee to Uncle Squeaky's home. The others went homeward, also, for it was getting late.

"A little music is like medicine to a sad mouse," said Uncle Squeaky after supper. "Pa Field-Mouse seems down-hearted tonight. Trot along, laddies, and put on your band uniforms that Ma Graymouse made last summer. We will give Pa Field-Mouse a band concert."

Grand-daddy nodded his head.

"A grand idea, Hezekiah. Melodious music makes many melancholy mice merry.

Ha! ha! That's nearly as good as the jingle Robert Giant used to sing about 'Picker Peter's peppered pickles.'"

Buster Graymouse hopped up and down in delight. He laughed until the tears ran down his fat cheeks.

"What's the trouble, Buster Boy?" asked Grand-daddy. "Did you eat too much supper?"

"No, Grand-daddy, but my little jacket is nearly bursting. Ah, that is too funny! Guess I shall laugh all night."

"I fear you have outgrown your band suit, Buster," said Mother Graymouse.

"I shall have to give you less to eat."

"Ah no, Mammy!" cried Buster in alarm. "Please don't starve me. Oh! oh!

What Robert Giant realty said was:

"'Peter picked a pint of pickled pipers.'"

"What's pipers, Buster?" asked Tiny.

"I don't know; prob'ly something good to eat. It was one of Robert's funny songs, twinnie. I can make nicer songs myself," bragged Buster.

"All ready for the concert!" shouted Uncle Squeaky.

Wink and Buster found their cornets; Limpy-toes brought his flute, Wiggle his fife, Scamper the alto horn, and Nimble-toes his beloved drum. At a signal from Uncle Squeaky, the little band began to play Silvy's Waltz.

It was late when they had played all the music they could remember. The moonlight cast long shadows over the dewy gra.s.s and even the Frog Orchestra was hushed and listening.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The little band began to play Silvy's Waltz_.]

"Now your Uncle Hezekiah will play a goodnight jig." Uncle Squeaky hopped nimbly up and played such a jolly tune upon his fiddle that they all joined paws and danced in a circle about him.

"Enough! enough, Hezekiah!" panted Grand-daddy at last. "We must rest if we expect to build a bungalow tomorrow. I shall not be Dr. Whiskers, but just a good neighbor mouse tomorrow. I reckon my patients can wait while I have one vacation day. Hurrah for a holiday and a fine new house for Neighbor Field-Mouse! Come, Granny, we're homeward bound. Fetch the automobile, Limpy-toes. I hope the twist.i.ty will not give out. Good-night, folkses, goodnight!"

CHAPTER VI

DR. WHISKER'S BUSY DAY

Neighbour Field-Mouse's new bungalow was begun before sunrise next morning. Squire Cricket and Daddy Gra.s.shopper brought their saws, Jack Rabbit and Mr. Hop Toad had shovels, and all the neighbors came with axes, hammers and other tools ready for work.

"Pa Field-Mouse has chosen this spot under the laurel bush," explained Uncle Squeaky. "First we must dig a cellar where he can store his winter's food."

"Don't forget that I want a stone fireplace just like yours, Mr. Squeaky,"

reminded Debby Field-Mouse. "And a dining-room, also, if you please."

"Ah, yes, Debby! A good living-room, a big pantry--you shall have all the fixings."

They worked busily away. By-and-by, Grand-daddy Whiskers paused to look around.

"It looks pretty fine already," he declared. "I'm having a great vacation day. Plenty of fresh air, sunshine, pine breezes and vigorous exercise make a mouse feel good, Neighbor Field-Mouse. I suppose there will not be much work for old Dr. Whiskers in this healthy country in summertime, because--"

"Dr. Whiskers! Dr. Whiskers!" interrupted Nimble-toes, "this little Skunk says that old Simon Skunk has a dreadful attack of asthma and wants you to come quick."

Down went Grand-daddy's ax, and away he trotted to Gray Rock Bungalow where he had left Granny and his medicine bag.