"That is queer," thought Buster drowsily.

Bright and early next morning, ten little mice were dancing about
their tree. Sure enough, Buster found it loaded with the very
presents he expected.

"Grand-daddy, did you trim our tree, or did Santa?" he demanded.

"Why do you ask such funny questions, Buster Boy?" laughed
Grand-daddy. Then Buster told all he had seen in the night.

"You must have eaten too much cheese for supper," chuckled Uncle
Squeaky. "Cheese always makes me dream."

"But did I dream about Santa, or about you and Grand-daddy and
Mammy?" insisted Buster.

"Well, that's the question," grinned Uncle Squeaky as he walked off,
leaving Buster very much puzzled.

They left the presents on their tree all Christmas day. In the
evening, they held a concert.

Uncle Squeaky played upon his fiddle and Buster sang his newest song:

"We are merry as can be,
Happy little mice,
Gathered round our Christmas tree
Hung with gifts so nice.