checkermints do?"

He drew forth a handful of pink candies from his pocket and gave them
three apiece.

"Bless my stars, how that little Squealer does squeal! Here, Ma
Graymouse, stuff his mouth with this candy and I will begin my
story:"

[Illustration: "I might manage to tell one more Story, he chuckled."]

"Once upon a time, away up in an attic, so high that it made their
fat old uncle puff to climb up to their dwelling, there lived a widow
and her six children. Their father met a sad death a short time ago
and so her children had to be very brave and work hard to help their
dear mother."

"Sniff! Sniff!" went Mother Graymouse behind her handkerchief.

"Boo-hoo!" cried Baby Squealer.

Uncle Squeaky passed Mother Graymouse another checkermint for the
baby and went on with his story:

"The oldest son was much like his Daddy, very wise and clever at
making things. He was somewhat lame as he had lost the toes of one
foot in a trap when he was a small mouse, too small to be wise."

"Limpy-toes!" they cried in a chorus.