where Cousin Graymouse lived was ajar. Nimble-toes paused to get his
breath and peep in at the busy, happy family.

Mother Graymouse sat in her rocking-chair singing to little Squealer.
Tiny, Teenty and Buster Graymouse were playing upon the floor near by with
their cousins, Wink and Wiggle Squeaky. Aunt Squeaky and Uncle Hezekiah
were busy around the stove. Grand-daddy and Granny Whiskers sat in the
chimney corner waiting patiently for their supper.

From the pantry came Silver Ears Graymouse and Dot Squeaky, bringing food
to the table.

"I hope Limpy-toes Graymouse and Scamper Squeaky have not gone away,"
thought Nimble-toes.

Somebody stole softly up behind him; two paws blindfolded his eyes.

"It is Limpy-toes," he guessed, trying to be brave in that dark, strange
place.

"Right you are, Nimble-toes," laughed Limpy-toes. "Scamper and I have been
over to the store to get some cheese. I thought you were a burglar, just
at first. Push open the door and trot in."

"It is Cousin Nimble-toes!" cried a noisy chorus of little mice.

"It is Nimble-toes Field-Mouse, sure as I'm a mouse!" declared Uncle
Squeaky. "Welcome to our attic, my lad."

[Illustration: Somebody stole softly up behind him, two paws blindfolded