one could write a letter, so they told me what to say. I've said it
forty-'leven times, lest I forget. The message is from Pa Field-Mouse,
Squire Cricket, Sir Spider, Daddy Grasshopper, Mr. Hop Toad, and Mr. Jack
Rabbit. They bade me say this:

"Dr. Grand-daddy Whiskers--

"We woodfolk are sometimes sick; we need a doctor. We wish our children to
have a teacher. They must learn to read and write. Our wives must learn to
cook and sew. We wish to be civilized. We miss Uncle Squeaky's band.
Please come to Pond Lily Lake and help us."

"We'll come, all right, Nimble-toes," interrupted Wiggle.

"We'll surely come," promised Wink. "Hurrah for another summer at Pond
Lily Lake!"

"Hush! hush!" cried Mother Graymouse.

"You will put your noses in a dark corner instead of eating supper, if you
interrupt again," warned Uncle Squeaky, scowling at his excited twins.

"Are there many sick ones?" asked Grand-daddy.

"Squire Cricket has a sore throat, Lady Spider is ailing, and almost
everyone is sneezing," replied Nimble-toes.

"They really need you, Grand-daddy," advised Aunt Belindy Squeaky.

"Our kiddies need the country sunshine after being shut up all winter in