Squeaky. "I haven't heard you mention smoke for quite a spell."

"I can smell smoke, Pa," said Wink.

"So can I," agreed Wiggle.

"Bless my stars, I guess you can!" exclaimed Uncle Squeaky as he went to
the door. "Is the whole village afire?" Off he started without even
snatching up his cap. The smoke rolled up in great, choking clouds.

"Oh, dearie me!" moaned Granny, "the woods are all afire. We shall all be
burned. Why didn't we stay safely in our dear attic home? Oh, dearie me!"

"I hope Wild Rose Cottage and Dot's schoolroom down in Grasshopper Lane
will not burn," sighed Aunt Squeaky. "This is a play day, so the kiddies
are not in school."

"I'm going to the fire," decided Mother Gray-mouse. "Perhaps I can help.
Get some buckets, Limpy-toes. I will call Scamper, Buster, Wink, and
Wiggle. We cannot let the village burn up."

Most of the woodfolk were at the fire. Some poured on pails of water from
the Lake; other groups stood talking wildly as they watched the leaping
flames.

"I wish we had engines and hose-reels like the Giant fire-men used when
the barn was on fire," sighed Silver Ears.

Uncle Squeaky ran here, there, and everywhere; filling pails, pouring
water, beating burning bushes with Mother Graymouse's best broom, and