"It might be worse," remarked Limpy-toes.

"I shall love to have Cousin Dot with us," smiled Silver Ears.

"And Wink and Wiggle," added the twins.

"Prob'ly Granny will make us some ginger cookies," drawled Buster.
"But oh, Mammy, what hard work it will be to move!"

"It will, indeed," agreed Mother Graymouse, "so I think, Buster, that
you may as well start right now to help me pack. There's my rocking
chair, Squealer's cradle and high-chair, all your little beds and
stools, besides my dishes,--it makes me weary just to think of it."

"We must not forget our needles and thread," said Silver Ears. "I
mean to rummage in these trunks and get a whole lot of stuff for
dresses and bonnets and patchwork. And our shopping bag--we must not
forget that."

Each night as it grew dusky, a busy little procession marched to the
barn, laden with their household goods. It took a long time, for they
meant to stock up as heavily as possible for the coming winter.

But at last, Granny wrapped herself in her plaid shawl, slipped a
bottle of castor oil and another of vinegar into her skirt pocket,
and said good-by to her pantry home. Uncle Squeaky, with his precious
fiddle tucked under his arm, joined her and Grand-daddy. Then
followed Mother Graymouse and her little brood, with Aunt Squeaky and
the cousins.