scratch, scratch, of somebody climbing up to the attic.

"Grand-daddy Whiskers," guessed Mother Graymouse, "or it may be Uncle
Squeaky bringing us bad news."

And then, up through the hole in the attic floor, who should appear
but Limpy-toes himself!

"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer as his mother dropped him in a
wriggling heap among the cradle pillows and ran to hug Limpy-toes.

"Tell us all about it?" they begged, as Limpy-toes drew up his little
stool and asked for his bowl of oat-meal porridge.

"I had quite an adventure," laughed Limpy-toes. "It wasn't so bad,
only I knew Mammy would worry. I slipped into the play-room while
Silvy got supper, hoping to find something good to eat. That Maid
Norah was there and she tried to hit me with an old shoe. I couldn't
get back through our holes, but had to run down-stairs. I dodged old
Thomas Cat and ran and ran. Ruth Giant opened the door and I whisked
out onto the piazza.

"At first I thought of going through the subway down to Uncle
Squeaky's. But I remembered that our meal-bag was empty. The barn was
near and I ran out to fill my pockets in the meal-chest."

[Illustration: Tell us all about it? they begged,]

"While I was working, Mr. Giant came into the barn and got a dishful
of meal for his chickens. It was quite dark and he did not see me.