Uncle Squeaky took down his fiddle and began to play a jig. "Now,
Buster Boy, sing us a song?" he coaxed.

Buster loved to sing; so he made no excuses. He folded his paws just
as Mammy had taught him and sang:

"Cheese oh! Merry oh!"

while Uncle Squeaky played softly on the fiddle.

"Sing your newest song, Buster," reminded Silver Ears.

Uncle Squeaky was delighted with "Traps are our enemies."

He made them all stand up in a row and sing it over and over until
they knew it by heart.

"A very good lesson in rhyme," said Aunt Squeaky wagging her head
approvingly.

It seemed a very short time before it began to grow dark.

"We must start home now," said Silver Ears. "We promised Mammy."

"Good mice always keep their promises," said Uncle Squeaky as he
filled their pockets with dried pumpkin seeds and raisins.

When Mother Graymouse, with Squealer and the twins, returned from
making Granny Whiskers an afternoon call, she found Silver Ears and