brother, Robert, looked almost exactly like her, except that his
yellow curls were shorter, he wore bigger boots that made more noise,
and instead of playing with dolls and tea-sets he liked balls and
bats and air-rifles.

After Mr. Giant had fitted up half of the attic for his children's
play-room, life was much jollier for the little Graymouses. The steam
heat from the play-room came through the cracks and made their home
as warm as toast.

Limpy-toes and Silver Ears worked busily away until there were three
holes through which they could steal softly in and watch Ruth and
Robert at their play.

Since Christmas the attic had become a merry, noisy place.

"I wonder how those young Giants manage to make such a racket?"
grumbled Mother Graymouse. "I've been trying for an hour to rock Baby
Squealer to sleep and the poor dear is wide awake now. Such a din,
I've seldom heard."

"It's their Christmas presents, Mammy," replied Silver Ears. "Ruth
has a toy piano."

"And Robert blows his new cornet and beats his drum," finished
Limpy-toes.

"He must like to work so hard," drawled Buster.

"Oh, it's jolly fun!" cried Tiny.