Chapter II: Part 2

The entrance to the home of Mr. Mouse was through a crack between two bricks. The General knocked loudly several times, and receiving no answer, he told the rest to wait for him, and stepped boldly in. He found no one at home, and so, leaving his card, returned to the waiting Teenie Weenies.

“I’m awfully sorry Mr. Mouse is out,” said the Lady of Fashion, as the little people moved away. “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

“Here he comes now,” cried the Cook, pointing toward a pile of lumber at the other end of the cellar. “And there’s another mouse with him.”

Billie Mouse saw the Teenie Weenies, and came bounding joyfully up to them.

“My, it does my eyes good to see you again,” he cried. “It’s a long time since I have seen you.”

Motioning the other mouse to come up, he introduced him to all the Teenie Weenies.

“I’m delighted to meet you,” the new mouse said, making a deep bow.

“Well how have you been?” asked the General, sitting down on the edge of an old scrubbing brush.

“Oh I’m in pretty good shape now,” answered Billie Mouse, “but I have had a very bad time of it for the last three weeks. I had a bad case of ptomaine poisoning.”

“Ptomaine poisoning!” exclaimed the General. “That’s rather serious.”

“Yes, I was pretty sick for a time,” said the Mouse. “Got hold of some cheese that was tainted.”

“You ought to be careful of what you eat,” cried the Lady of Fashion. “People are always putting out food which has been poisoned.”

“I know it,” said Billie Mouse, “especially cheese. I’m always suspicious of cheese, but this piece which made me sick looked perfectly good. I smelled it and carefully tasted it before I ate it and I thought it was all right.”

“Let’s have a race?” suggested the Cowboy, after the two mice and the Teenie Weenies had talked for some time.

The mice agreed, and a race course was soon chosen. The race was to be run between two long boards, and an old scrubbing brush was brought up for a hurdle at the end of the track. The Cowboy was to ride one mouse and the Dunce, who claimed to be a good rider, the other.

“Now,” said the General, “the man who rides down the length of these boards and jumps over the scrubbing brush first will win the race.”

When all was ready the signal was given and down the track came the mice, as fast as they could run, with the Cowboy and the Dunce sticking tightly to their backs. As the mice drew near the hurdle the Dunce was ahead, and it looked as though he would win the race. But just as the mouse sprang into the air to leap over the brush the Dunce lost his grip, and was tossed into the air. The mouse jumped over the brush, and when the Dunce came down he hit the ground with a great thud.

[‡Illustration: Mouse riding]

The Cowboy stuck tightly to his mouse, and leaping gracefully over the brush, he was declared winner.

The Dunce was not hurt by his fall. He joined loudly in the laughter that greeted his tumble, and was the first to start a cheer for the Cowboy.

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A WATERMELON FEAST

“SAY, Gogo!” shouted the Dunce one morning as he ran up the steps of the shoe house. “Do you like watermelon?”

“Say, foolish person, what you-all askin’ such a silly question fo’?” grinned the happy colored Teenie Weenie. “If there is anything in the whole world I like better than watermelon, it’s mo’ watermelon.”

“Well I-I-I know where there’s a great b-b-big piece,” shouted the Dunce. “It’s over on a table in the big green house and there was a man eatin’ some and he said that he couldn’t eat any more. I heard him, for I climbed up the morning glory vine at the window and watched him.”

“Let’s go!” shouted several of the Teenie Weenies.

“Well you’d better not be in a hurry,” remarked the General, stepping out onto the front porch. “You all know that it wouldn’t be right to help yourselves to that watermelon unless the people who own it were going to throw it away.”

“Yes s-s-sir, that’s j-j-j-just what they are going to do,” stuttered the Dunce. “The man said that he couldn’t eat any more and a woman said to leave it right on the table and she would throw it out.”

“Well that’s different,” answered the General, who was fond of melon himself. “Under the circumstances we can go over and have a taste.”

It took but a short time for the little people to make their way over to the house and, crawling through the crack under the kitchen door, they saw the red top of the melon on the table. To their delight they saw a great deal had been left.

The Teenie Weenies all are wonderful climbers, and it was a simple matter for the little folks to climb up onto the table. They swarmed onto the melon and ate until they could not hold another bite.

After the little people had eaten all they could hold they amused themselves by playing with the various things they found on the table. The Clown climbed up to the top of a fork, which stuck in the melon, and performed some wonderful acrobatic feats. The small boys took off their shoes and stockings, waded in the juice, and pushed themselves about with toothpicks on the huge seeds, which made fine rafts.

Gogo ate until he nearly burst, and the Doctor found the little fellow sitting on the handle of a knife holding his tiny head.

“What’s the matter?” asked the Doctor.

“I’s in trouble,” he groaned.

“Anything serious?” asked the Doctor.

“Yes, sir,” answered the colored Teenie Weenie, pointing to the huge slice of melon. “I’s plumb full. Can’t eat another bite, and all that watermelon before me!”

“Well that is sort of tough,” laughed the Doctor, “but if I were you I’d not let that worry me, for you certainly will be sick if you eat any more.”

The Cowboy carried several of the seeds back to the shoe house and stored them away in the tool house.

[‡Illustration: Watermelon pits]

“I’m going to plant these next summer,” he said, “and then we can have a watermelon of our own.”

“You’d have a hard time cutting it open,” suggested the Old Soldier.

“Gosh!” exclaimed the Cowboy, “I never thought of that, but I suppose we could blast it open with dynamite.”

“Just leave that to Gogo,” laughed the Doctor. “He will find some way to get into it.”

The Teenie Weenies were so full of melon they could not eat a bite of lunch—not even the Dunce—and the Cook had a good rest that day.

Poor Gogo ate more than was good for him. He consumed a piece of melon as big as a hickory nut and the Doctor was up half the night putting teenie weenie hot water bottles on his teenie weenie tummie.

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THE DUNCE GETS STUCK IN A PLATE OF TAFFY

SEVERAL days after the watermelon feast the Dunce failed to put in an appearance at the noonday meal. This was rather unusual, for he was always hungry and he generally was the first Teenie Weenie to draw his chair up to the tiny table.

“Where’s the Dunce?” asked the General, as he carved a slice from a big strawberry and dropped it onto the Cowboy’s waiting plate.

“I haven’t seen him for a couple of hours,” answered the Policeman.

“Last me see him,” grunted the Indian, “him go down garden path to big house.”

“Well, I think something must have happened to him, for he is always the first to the dinner table,” said the General, anxiously.

“I think so, too,” put in the Lady of Fashion, “for he knew we were going to have a strawberry for dinner, and that would bring him, if nothing else did.”

“Just as soon as we have finished dinner I think some of us had better go out and look for him,” said the General.

So, as soon as the meal was over, the Teenie Weenies started out to search for the Dunce.

The Indian pointed out the house near which he had last seen the Dunce, and crawling under the door the Teenie Weenies began to look all about the place.

“Listen,” cried the Cook, as he stepped over a safety pin, “I thought I heard him call.”

“Help—h-e-l-p!” came a voice faintly from the next room.

“That’s him—that’s the Dunce’s voice,” cried the Sailor, and running through the doorway, they saw the tip of the Dunce’s cap bobbing up and down over the top of a sideboard.

Climbing up, the Teenie Weenies found the Dunce standing up to his knees in a plate of sticky taffy!

“I—I—I’m stuck,” sobbed the Dunce.

“Yes, we can see you are,” said the General, with a smile, as he walked up to the side of the plate.

After a great deal of work the Cowboy and the Turk pulled the Dunce out.

[‡Illustration: Taffy]

“What were you doing in that taffy?” asked the General, as he led the Dunce up the garden towards the Teenie Weenie house.

“I saw the plate,” answered the Dunce, “and I—I—I just went up to get a taste and—and—”

“You got stuck fast,” said the General.

“Yes—I did,” and the Dunce looked sad and sorry.

“Look here,” said the General, “you’ve got to stop this running away, or I’ll send you off to the little girl who wrote us a letter and said that if the Dunce would come and live with her, she would reform him, and make a good boy out of him. I think you need reforming.”

“Y-yes,” said the Dunce, uncertainly.

“What do you think would have happened to you if we hadn’t found you and pulled you out of that taffy?” demanded the General.

The Dunce looked frightened. “Why—why,” he answered, “I spec’ I would have been et!”

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THE GREAT FIELD DAY

THE Teenie Weenies teased the Dunce a great deal after his experience in the taffy plate, and if it hadn’t been for an event which soon took place he would have had to stand much more of their joking.

[‡Illustration: Decoration]

For a long time the Teenie Weenies had thought of holding a field day. Their interest in athletics probably started from the example of the Chinaman, who had become quite expert as a pole vaulter. The little fellow made a vaulting pole out of a dry straw, and with this he could vault over a dandelion with the greatest ease.

“Do you-all know that we could have a field day if we really tried?” asked Gogo one afternoon of a group of the little fellows as they sat watching the Chinaman. “Now there is the Chinaman, who could enter the pole vault, the Turk can run fast and he can jump and I can put the shot. Why, we could have a powerful fine field day.”

“And say!” exclaimed Rufus Rhyme. “How’s this for a yell:

“Rah! Rah! Rah!
Zip boom Fah!
Teenie Weenie! Teenie Weenie!
Rah! Rah! Rah!”

[‡Illustration: Throwing a ball]

“That’s fine!” shouted the little chaps, and they practiced the yell until they fairly rattled the leaves on the old rose bush.

Everybody was greatly excited over the suggestion for a field day, and for several weeks the little men trained for the great event. A place was chosen on a fine sandy spot near the shoe house where the little people could hold their games in perfect safety. A big board fence stood on one side, while a row of bushes protected them from prying eyes on the other side.

For several days the Old Soldier and the Turk had worked hard getting things ready for the great day. Many hurdles were built out of matches and two long poles were set firmly in the ground for the pole vault. The Teenie Weenie ladies, led by the Lady of Fashion, found a piece of an old silk necktie, which they cut up and made into many tiny pennants, on which they embroidered the Teenie Weenie monogram.

[‡Illustration: Hurdles]

The day of the great event proved to be warm and pleasant and many tiny records were broken by the little folks. Gogo proved to be the hero of the day. Besides acting as trainer to the athletes, he broke the Teenie Weenie record for the shot put, hurling the B B buck shot forty-two and a half (Teenie Weenie) feet, which is twenty-one and a quarter inches in our measurement. This mighty effort beat the record by two and a half feet, which had been held by Paddy Pinn for several years.

[‡Illustration: High jump]

The Turk won the hundred and twenty yard hurdle race, beating the Dunce by two seconds. The Scotchman won the hundred yard dash, while the Clown took away the honors in the high jump. The little fellow cleared the match at seven and a half (Teenie Weenie) feet, or three and three-quarters inches.

The Chinaman set a new record for the pole vault.

The little chap cleared the straw at fifteen (Teenie Weenie) feet.

The Teenie Weenies had a most wonderful day, and that night they held a banquet in honor of the occasion. The desks were removed from the floor of the school house, a huge table was brought in and the Cook dished up one of the finest dinners the little people ever ate.

The Dunce ate so much of the big stuffed prune, which was served for dessert, that he had to go to bed, but the rest of the little folks danced until a late hour.

[‡Illustration: Bee]

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THE DUNCE PULLS A TOOTH

“I’LL just bet you a grape seed I’d have won that hurdle race from the Turk, if I hadn’t had a toothache,” said the Dunce the day after the field day.

“Why don’t you-all have it pulled?” asked Gogo.

“Ah say! Jimminie f-f-f-fishhooks!” exclaimed the Dunce. “That would hurt and I’d rather have the t-t-t-toothache.”

The poor Dunce was afraid to mention his toothache to the General for fear he would have the Doctor pull it out. He suffered for some time, but at last he could stand it no longer and one day he decided to ask advice.

“Oh, whillikers! Jimminie fishhooks, ouch!” he howled as he ran into the sitting room of the shoe house.

“Now what’s the matter?” asked the General.

“I-I-I-I’ve got the t-t-t-toothache!” wailed the Dunce, holding his hand over his jaw and dancing about on one foot.

“Well, find the Doctor and get attended to,” said the General.

The Dunce found the Doctor, and after he had carefully examined the aching tooth he told the Dunce it would have to be pulled.

“What!” shouted the Dunce. “Jimminie Christmas! I-I-I-I’d rather have the t-t-toothache.”

“All right, just as you like,” said the Doctor.

“Can’t you put something on it to make it quit aching?” asked the Dunce.

“That tooth is in bad condition,” said the Doctor, “and the only way to stop it for once and all is to pull it.”

“All right, s-s-s-sir,” groaned the Dunce, “p-p-p-pull it out.”

The Doctor got out a tiny pair of forceps and a glass of water. He then had the Dunce sit in one of the easy chairs and told him to open his mouth.

“S-S-S-Say, Doc,” stuttered the frightened Dunce, “i-i-i-is it gonna hurt m-m-m-much?”

“Yes, it will hurt a little.”

“S-S-S-Say, Doc, c-c-c-couldn’t I pull it myself?”

“I suppose you could,” answered the Doctor. “You could tie a thread to it with the other end fixed to a stone and then get up on something high and drop the stone. That would certainly pull it out.”

“That’s w-w-w-what I’m gonna do,” and the Dunce jumped out of the chair and disappeared through the doorway.

The Dunce hunted up Gogo and asked that little fellow’s advice about pulling the aching tooth.

“Dere’s a fine place over the hill just back of the house,” said the little black Teenie Weenie. “Dere’s a berry basket and you can done climb up on dat, tie on de stone, and out comes dat toof like a cork out of a bottle.”

The two little fellows secured a piece of strong silk thread and, followed by a number of the Teenie Weenies, they hurried to the basket back of the house.

[‡Illustration: Peach seed]

The Dunce and Gogo chose a peach seed for the weight to tie to the end of the thread and after boosting it up onto the basket they climbed up themselves. The thread was fixed tightly to the peach seed and the other end was tied to the offending tooth.

“Now all you got to do is to give dat peach seed a kick and out comes dat toof,” said Gogo.

“C-C-C-Crickets!” moaned the Dunce, “I-I-I-I got a kind of sick feelin’ in my s-s-s-stomach. I think I’ll wait awhile.”

For full half an hour the Dunce stood trembling on the edge of the basket while Gogo and the Doctor argued with the foolish fellow to kick off the seed and have it all over.

While the Dunce was talking to the Doctor, Gogo suddenly kicked the seed off the basket and the tooth was jerked out of the Dunce’s mouth before he really knew what happened.

“Oh, whillikers! Jimminie crickets! Hallelujah!” shouted the Dunce, dancing up and down with joy, when he realized that the tooth was out. “It’s out, it’s out! Hallelujah, hallelujah!”

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AN ADVENTURE WITH A FROG

“ALLEE same where Clowboy?” gasped the Chinaman, stopping at the back porch of the shoe house, were the Cook sat slicing a grape for lunch.

“I saw him a while ago talking to the Indian,” answered the Cook. “They were sitting under that big mushroom on the other side of the house.”

“Thankee,” and the Chinaman hurried around the corner of the house, puffing like a steam engine.

“Oh there you are,” he cried, as he spied the Indian and the Cowboy, lying in the shade of the mushroom. “Allee same me gottee much to tell.”

“Well what is it, Chink?” asked the Cowboy.

“Me see big clowflog.”

“You mean a big bullfrog,” corrected the Cowboy.

“Yes, yes—a bulltoad—bullflog,” cried the excited Chinaman. “Him sleep on log at pond. Him snore like everythings. You come and throw lasso over his head and we catchee him.”

“You round up the fellows and I’ll get my rope,” cried the Cowboy, smacking his lips over the thought of delicious baked frog ham.

In a few minutes the Teenie Weenies were on their way towards the pond, which lay back of the woods near the shoe house.

“S-s-sh,” warned the Indian, as the little people hurried up to the edge of the pond. “Frog him sleep; don’t wake.”

The Teenie Weenies sneaked along carefully until they stood quite near the log on which the sleeping frog sat. He was a big green fellow and the Teenie Weenies scarcely breathed for fear they would awaken the frog, and lose him.

Several of the strongest Teenie Weenies held the end of the rope while the Cowboy crawled silently onto the log.

“Now when I drop the noose over the frog’s head,” whispered the Cowboy, “you fellows jerk the rope and hold on for dear life.”

The Cowboy slipped quietly up behind the frog and cleverly tossed the rope over the big fellow’s head.

Awakened by the rope falling about his neck, the frog gave a mighty leap towards the water. He was a powerful fellow, and went into the water with a great splash, pulling several of the Teenie Weenies with him.

As the frog disappeared beneath the water the Teenie Weenies swam for shore, where they were pulled up onto the bank by their friends, all sputtering, all soaked to the skin, but unhurt.

[‡Illustration: Frog]

When the Teenie Weenies discovered that none of the little folks had been hurt by the ducking, they laughed until the tears ran down their teenie weenie faces.

“Ho, ho, ho!” roared the Poet, as he rolled over on the ground with laughter, “I haven’t seen anything so funny as this for a long time.”

“It’s almost as funny as the time the Dunce fell into the dish of apple sauce,” giggled the Lady of Fashion.

“Goodee gracious!” exclaimed the Chinaman, who had been looking on with wide opened eyes, “allee same me didn’t know that bull clow—I mean bullflog—him so strong.”

“Strong!” cried the Doctor, “I should say they are strong. Why a frog has wonderfully powerful legs. He could kick a Teenie Weenie over an ice cream bucket with one blow of his hind leg.”

“I wouldn’t mind if one kicked me INTO an ice cream freezer,” grinned the Dunce, who was fond of ice cream.

“That ’ol frog reminds me of an old song,” said Gogo and as the Teenie Weenies walked back towards the shoe house the little colored chap sang this quaint little song:

“Frog went a-courting and he did ride—
Umm humm!
Frog went a-courting and he did ride,
He wore a pistol by his side—
Umm humm!
He rode up to Miss Mouse’s house—
Umm humm!
He rode up to Miss Mouse’s house—
Said he ‘Miss Mouse will you marry me?’
Umm humm!”

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SOMETHING ABOUT A BEAR

IT was a warm, lazy sort of morning, and very few Teenie Weenies were to be seen about the rose bush. Grandpa sat fast asleep in his easy chair on the front porch of the shoe house. Gogo was busily engaged carving a sugar bowl out of a large cherry seed, while several of the little men hacked at the wood pile back of the kitchen.

The Policeman was telling a couple of sparrows how the Dunce howled over his tooth being pulled when the Lady of Fashion touched him on the shoulder.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, “but do you know where the General is?”

“He’s over at the tool house, ma’am,” answered the Policeman, touching his hat.

“Is he busy?” asked the little lady.

“I don’t think so, ma’am. He’s just watching the Old Soldier and Paddy Pinn, who are tanning a frog hide for shoe leather.”

“Would you mind asking him to meet me in the library. I want to see him on a matter of great importance,” said the Lady of Fashion.

“With pleasure, ma’am,” answered the Policeman, and touching his hat again he set off while the Lady of Fashion returned to the shoe house.

“Well, my dear lady,” said the General a few minutes later as he stepped into the Teenie Weenie library where the Lady of Fashion sat waiting, “the Policeman tells me that you want to speak with me.”

“Yes, General,” answered the little lady, “I have something important I want to talk to you about. I want you to do something for me. Something very nice. Will you?”

“Why, I don’t know. What do you want?” asked the head of the Teenie Weenies as he sat down in one of the tiny chairs.

“Well,” began the little lady, “while I was out walking yesterday with the Doctor, we went into a house to get warm and while we were there we heard a little girl crying as though her heart would break. The little girl had broken the wheel of her toy bear and I wish you would get the boys to go over and fix it for her. She’s a child who hasn’t many toys.”

“I don’t see how we can spare the time just now, for we have eleven clothes pins to split up into stove wood and—but we’ll do it anyhow!” said the General, as he saw the tears gathering in the Lady of Fashion’s eyes.

“Oh, thank you so much!” and the little lady kissed the General on top of his bald little head.

That afternoon the General and several of the Teenie Weenie men walked over to the house where the little girl lived, and had a look at the broken toy. The bear was a big fellow, and one of the solid wooden wheels on which he moved about was broken in two.

“The axle is broken, too,” said the Turk, peering under the board on which the bear stood.

“We’ll have to make some long bolts to hold the wheel together,” announced the Old Soldier, who had been measuring the broken wheel with his tiny tape-measure.

[‡Illustration: Bear]

After a great deal of talk and measuring, the little men hurried back to the shoe house, where they set to work making the bolts and nuts necessary for mending the broken bear.

The next morning the Teenie Weenie workmen set off for the little girl’s house, followed by a number of the little people who were curious to see the bear. As the little girl had been taken out for a walk, the coast was clear, and the little men started to work at once, while the rest wandered about examining a doll’s house and many other toys which stood about the room.

The Teenie Weenies jacked up the bear, fitted in a lead pencil for an axle, bolted together the broken wheel, and in a short time the little men had made the toy as good as new.

When the little girl came back from her walk and found the mended toy she was very happy, and she wondered many, many times just who had fixed the broken bear.

[‡Illustration: Boy and pencil]

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THE INVENTION

“I’LL bet that little girl has wondered many times how her bear was mended,” chuckled the Old Soldier, as he stirred up the fire with a big darning needle which the little folks used for a poker.

“She must consider it quite a mystery,” said the Lady of Fashion.

“Speaking of mysteries,” cried the Turk, “does anybody know what the Dunce is up to?”

The Dunce had been locking himself up in his room for the last few days, in a most mysterious way. He seemed very important and he refused to answer questions.

“I’ll bet he is building something,” ventured the Cowboy. “He’s been hammering away all day.”

“I saw him sneaking along this morning with a cork on his shoulder,” said the Cook.

[‡Illustration: Barrel]

“Well just give him a little time and we’ll find out,” remarked Grandpa, nodding his head wisely. “He’s swelling up so with importance he’ll have to tell pretty soon or he will bust.”

Grandpa was right, for that very evening the Dunce arose from his chair at the teenie weenie supper table and said: “Ladies and gentlemen, I have just finished a great invention and, if I can find some deep water near by, I will be glad to show you something astonishing.”

“Three rousing cheers for Thomas Edison Dunce!” shouted the Clown, and the cheers were given with such a will that the squirrel, who lived near the shoe house, came running over and looked in the window to see what the noise was all about.

As the weather was quite cool, the Teenie Weenies thought it would be wise to try the Dunce’s invention indoors. So it was decided to go to the big house across the street, where plenty of water could be found in the bathroom. As soon as breakfast was over the next morning the Teenie Weenies hurried over to the house and climbed up to the washstand. After a lot of hard work they got the faucets turned and filled the bowl with water. The Dunce then took two corks from a big package that the Sailor had helped him carry, and strapped them tightly to his feet.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” shouted the Dunce, “I will show you how easy it is to walk on water.”

Letting himself down into the water by the chain to the stopper, the Dunce stepped bravely out toward the center of the bowl. But—as soon as he let go of the chain he lost his balance and fell over, kersplash, into the water! The corks, being so light, pulled his feet to the top of the water, and kept them there, and if the Turk and the Sailor had not promptly dived in after him the Dunce would probably have been drowned.

“G-G-G-Golly.” spluttered the Dunce, as he sat dripping, but safe, on the edge of the bowl, “it d-d-didn’t w-wo-work, did it?”

[‡Illustration: Dunce in the water]

The Teenie Weenies had lots of fun teasing the Dunce about walking on the water, and it was many days before he heard the last of his wonderful invention.

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[‡Illustration: Drum]

THE GREAT BALL

THERE was some great secret in the air. For some time there had been much stir in and about the Teenie Weenie village beneath the rose bush. There were many secret meetings between the General and the Lady of Fashion, who seemed to be the leading spirits of it all. The Turk and the Cook and Gogo, under the direction of the Lady of Fashion, spent many days in the cellar of a certain house not far from Shoehurst. The Lovers’ bungalow was closed to all gentlemen callers every afternoon for several weeks, and it was reported that the little ladies who gathered there were sewing with might and main.

“By heck, it ’pears to me that there is somethin’ mighty queer goin’ on ’round here,” remarked Grandpa as he shuffled into the Chinaman’s laundry one afternoon. “Such carryin’s on I haven’t seen for a long time.”

“Allee same muchee slecrets,” said the Chinaman, putting down his tiny iron and pushing out a chair for his visitor.

“Secrets!” shouted the old man. “Why, bless my soul, the air is full of ’em, and I reckon it’s some of those new fangled ideas of the Lady of Fashion; she’s always up to somethin’ or t’other.”

“Allee same we fine out if we wait long enough,” laughed the Chinaman.

“Well, I ’spect you’re right,” growled Grandpa, “but we never did have any carryin’s on like that when I was a youngster.”

It wasn’t long before all the Teenie Weenies knew what the secret was, for one morning they each received a tiny invitation written neatly in the dainty hand of the Lady of Fashion.

It was a very formal invitation to a grand ball in the cellar of a certain house.

There was much excitement among some of the little men, for it was whispered about that those who attended the ball were supposed to wear full dress suits and several of the little chaps had none. However, the Old Soldier, who was quite a good tailor, came to their rescue and everybody was provided with a dress suit, or “fish and soup suit,” as Grandpa called them.

The ball was to be the most fashionable thing that ever had been given in Teenie Weenie land, and all the little folks could hardly wait for the appointed day.

The ball was to be given on the head of a drum which lay in a cellar not far from the shoe house. A paper box, which was found in the cellar, was pulled up beside the drum. Onto it steps were built up to the head of the drum. By cutting a door in the box it made a wonderful place for the little guests to leave their wraps, and a curtain, strung across the center of the box, gave the little ladies a snug place to powder their tiny noses. The head of the drum made a fine dance floor, and around the edges comfortable seats were placed.

It took quite a lot of argument to get the Dunce and Gogo to act as footmen, for they wanted to wear dress suits like the rest, but when they found out that they were to help the Cook serve the ice cream they were very willing.

The day of the ball the excited Teenie Weenies started to scrub and clean themselves many hours before the time set for the party, and a cleaner set of little folks never was seen.

At 9 o’clock the guests began to arrive and they were received at the top of the stairs by the Lady of Fashion and the General. Great candles flooded the place with light, and the Old Soldier, Paddy Pinn, and the Cowboy furnished music for the dancing.

At first the guests were rather stiff and formal, but the Dunce relieved the situation by falling down stairs with a tray full of dishes. The little people laughed right out loud when they saw the Dunce wasn’t hurt, and from that moment on every one enjoyed themselves as they never had before.

A wonderful lunch was prepared by the Cook, and the footmen passed around dainty sandwiches, cocoa, lemonade, and ice cream.

All the Teenie Weenies attended the ball, except Grandpa, who stayed home and took care of the Lover Twins, and everyone said that the ball was the greatest event that had ever taken place in the Teenie Weenie social world.

“We had a wonderfully fine time, Grandpa,” cried the Doctor when the little folks returned from the ball.

“And we had awful good things to eat,” announced the Dunce. “See, I’ve brought some home for you,” and the little fellow uncovered a tiny dish filled with ice cream.

“Once I went to a party,” said Grandpa, dipping into the ice cream. “It was along in March in forty-nine—” But the little folks were too tired to listen to the story and they trudged off to bed, leaving the old gentleman to finish his ice cream and story by himself.

[‡Illustration: Mirror]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A MOST UNLUCKY MOUSE

“WELL,” yawned Mr. Mouse, rolling off his soft cotton bed, “I think I’d better go out and see what I can find for breakfast; we haven’t a bit of cheese or bread in the house.”

“Now do be careful, dear,” warned Mrs. Mouse, “and please don’t go near that nasty old trap under the steps.”

“All right, I’ll be careful,” laughed her husband and he hurried down the long hall which connected their home with a large cellar where all sorts of good things could usually be found. But on this particular morning Mr. Mouse found food very scarce and he was forced to climb about in many places in search of breakfast. While walking along the edge of a basket he chanced to see some crumbs of bread on the steps near by, and wishing to make a short cut he decided to leap onto an empty fruit jar that stood near, and from there onto the steps. He made a mighty leap onto the jar, but before he could balance himself he slipped and fell in.

[‡Illustration: Mouse]

His cries for help could not be heard, and it was some time before Mrs. Mouse, who had been alarmed at his absence, found the poor fellow.

“Oh, dear me! By the great cat’s tail! This is most awful!” exclaimed Mrs. Mouse, bursting into tears.

[‡Illustration: Jar]

“Go tell the Teenie Weenies!” shouted her husband. “They will come and help me out.”

Mrs. Mouse ran over to the shoe house, and climbing up the front steps she rapped so hard that she scratched half the paint off the tiny door. Between bursts of tears Mrs. Mouse told the Teenie Weenies about her husband and the little people promised at once to help.

“Dear Mrs. Mouse,” said the Lady of Fashion, trying to comfort the tearful mouse, “you must calm yourself. You must try to be calm.”

“Great cat’s claws!” exclaimed Mrs. Mouse, “I’d like to see you be calm with a husband in a fruit jar,” and she burst into another fit of crying as she hurried back to her imprisoned husband, followed by the Teenie Weenies.

The Teenie Weenies quickly put up a ladder which they had brought with them, and the Doctor was soon lowered into the jar, where he found the poor mouse had two badly sprained legs. The General ordered the big windlass brought up, and when a derrick had been built on top of the fruit jar out of three strong clothespins the injured mouse was bundled into the biggest teenie weenie tablecloth and pulled out.

As it was late the Teenie Weenies decided to make the poor mouse as comfortable as possible, for it was quite a long way to the mouse’s home, and they thought that after a night’s rest he could stand the trip with less pain.

[‡Illustration: Clothespin]

The little men made him a soft bed under the cellar stairs, and after he had eaten a Welsh rarebit, which the Cook brought to him, he fell into a sound sleep with Mrs. Mouse sitting watchfully by his side.

“We’ll be over early in the morning and take your husband home,” said the General, and the Teenie Weenies started back to the shoe house, for it was fast growing dark.

[‡Illustration: Soup]

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MRS. MOUSE ASKS A FAVOR

IT WAS quite late when the Teenie Weenies arrived at the shoe house, and it was almost nine o’clock when the little people had finished their supper.

“Well, we’d better all get to bed,” said the General, pushing his chair back from the table, “for we have got to be out bright and early in the morning and take Mr. Mouse back to his home.”

Gogo and the Turk helped the Cook wash up the supper dishes, and half an hour later every single Teenie Weenie was sleeping peacefully in his teenie weenie bed.

The Teenie Weenies had been asleep only a short time when they were awakened by a loud squeaking and scratching at the front door.

“Who dat?” cried Gogo, putting his head out one of the tiny windows.

“Its me,” answered Mrs. Mouse. “Oh dear me.”

“What’s the trouble?” asked the General, joining Gogo at the window.

“Oh gracious me,” wailed Mrs. Mouse, “I’m scared half out of my senses, for I’m afraid that old cat that lives next door might get in the cellar, and to think what would happen to my poor crippled husband just frightens me half out of my wits.”

“We’ll not desert you, madam,” said the General kindly. “We’ll come over immediately and take your husband home.”

The Teenie Weenies soon dressed themselves, and Gogo hurried over to the hospital to call the Doctor.

“Hadn’t we better take along one of the wagons?” asked the General, when the Teenie Weenie physician arrived.

“A wagon wouldn’t do,” answered the Doctor. “We could never take Mr. Mouse home in a wagon. Why, it would jar the poor mouse’s injured legs until he couldn’t stand the pain.”

“Great grief!” cried the General, “how in the name of ripe cherries are we going to move him?”

“Very simple matter,” said the Doctor. “We can carry him in a hammock, which we can make out of a sheet or tablecloth. This can be hung on a pole and we can carry him on our shoulders.”

“I know where there’s a pole that will be just the thing,” shouted the Turk. “Come on, Gogo, and we’ll get it.”

The two Teenie Weenies hurried away in the darkness and presently they returned with a long handled paint brush.

The Cook brought out an old tablecloth and the little men set out for the cellar where the poor mouse lay.

It was dark, but the little fellows found their way without trouble, for Teenie Weenies can see almost as well as owls in the dark and in a short time they arrived safe and sound.

[‡Illustration: Stretcher for the bird]

The injured mouse was soon put into the tablecloth and the ends were made fast to the brush handle. Six of the strongest Teenie Weenies were chosen to carry the mouse and they gently lifted the brush handle to their shoulders. The Teenie Weenies moved off carefully towards the mouse’s home, which lay at the far end of the cellar.

The Dunce walked at the side of the hammock and carried the mouse’s long tail over his shoulder, in order to keep it from dragging on the floor, for the poor fellow’s spirits were mighty low and his tail would drag.

The mouse was carried through a hole in a brick wall, which was the entrance to his home, and laid gently on a bed of soft cotton. The Lady of Fashion helped Mrs. Mouse nurse her husband back to health and the Doctor called almost every day, while the Cook made all sorts of dainty dishes for the invalid.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE SCOTCHMAN GOES SOUTH

THE Doctor had been very busy for some time. First the mouse, who had fallen into the fruit jar, needed a great deal of attention. The mouse lived quite a distance from the hospital and the Doctor called on him once a day for two weeks. Then a squirrel fell sick and the Doctor had to call on him for several days. The twins had the mumps and the Scotchman complained of the rheumatism.

The Scotchman’s trouble caused the Doctor considerable thought. He worried over it for some time and then decided to take the matter up with the General. Taking his tall hat from its peg behind the office door he hurried over to the shoe house.

“General,” he said as he stepped into the teenie weenie library and closed the door softly, “I’d like to speak to you for a few minutes.”

“Go right ahead, Doc,” said the General, throwing aside his work.

“It’s about the Scotchman,” said the Doctor, dropping into a teenie weenie rocking chair. “Scotty was troubled with rheumatism in his legs last winter, and the pain has started again this fall.”

“It’s all on account of his wearing those short kilt skirts, and going around in his bare knees,” cried the General anxiously.

[‡Illustration: Teenie Weenie on bird]

“Yes, I know it is,” answered the Doctor. “I’ve tried to get him to wear trousers during the winter weather, but he will not do it. So, he’s got to go south to spend the winter, where there’s no cold weather, or he’ll be sick.”

[‡Illustration: Standing around]

“How in the world will he ever get down south?” asked the General.

“Oh, I’ve fixed that up all right,” said the Doctor. “You know our friends, the birds, always go south for the winter?”

“Yes,” nodded the General.

“Well, I was talking to a bird this morning, and she told me that she was starting south in a few days. I told her about our Scotchman, and she said that she would be glad to take him along. She said that he could ride on her back. She promised to look after him, and said she would bring him north again in the spring.”

The General thought the plan a good one, and Scotty was told to pack his grip, and be ready to go by the end of the week.

The Teenie Weenies were greatly excited over the news. The Lady of Fashion mended all the Scotchman’s clothes, and made him three tiny new shirts for the trip. The Chinaman washed everything he had that could be washed, starched and ironed his new shirts beautifully, and the others did all they could to make him comfortable and happy.

“Oh my,” said the Dunce, when he heard the news, “I wish I had rheumatism, too, so I could go along.”

The Teenie Weenies were up at the first break of day the morning that the Scotchman was to go. At the promised hour the bird flew up to the shoe house and lighted on the lawn.

“All aboard for Dixie,” cried the bird, and the Teenie Weenies all swarmed out with the Scotchman among them.

“Here,” shouted the Cook, running out with a big, neat package. “Here’s your lunch. I put in all the things you like best.”

“Jimminie,” muttered the Dunce, as he hungrily watched the lunch being forced into the Scotchman’s already overflowing grip, “I just do wish I was a-goin’!”

“We’ll send your trunk to you by mail,” shouted the Cowboy as the Scotchman climbed up on the back of the bird.

“All right,” cried Scotty. “Thanks and good-by to everybody.”

The bird spread her wings and gently rose from the ground. The Teenie Weenies stood shouting good-bys, and waving hands and handkerchiefs, till bird and Scotchman were lost to sight in the blue sky overhead.

[‡Illustration: Scotchman’s suitcase]

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FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!

“F-f-f-f-f-fire! F-f-f-fire!” shouted the excited Dunce, as he dashed up to the shoe house, gasping for breath.

“Where? What?” cried the General popping his head out of the front door.

“Over t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-to th-th-th-th-th-th—”

“Great guns!” shouted the General, throwing up his hands in despair. “The house or whatever it is will burn down before you are able to tell us where the fire is. Out with it. Where is the fire? Quick!”

“It’s it’s over t-t-t-t-to th-th-th-th-the Lovers’ house,” gasped the Dunce, just as the Teenie Weenie fire engine and hook and ladder dashed up to the shoe house.

“To the Lovers’ house,” cried the General as he jumped onto the running board of the fire engine.

The little engine fairly flew over the melting snow and it nearly fell over as it skidded dangerously around a piece of paving brick which lay in its path. Presently the fire department arrived at the Lovers’ bungalow, where they found clouds of smoke pouring out of the cracks around the back door and kitchen windows.

As Mr. and Mrs. Lover had locked up and gone with the Doctor to visit a sick mouse near by, it was found necessary to break in the back door, and soon a stream of water was thrown into the smoky kitchen.

[‡Illustration: Fire!]

The Chinaman was ironing one of the General’s shirts when he heard the news of the fire, and in the excitement he ran over to the Lovers’ house, carrying the hot iron he had been using at the time.

The excited Dunce climbed up onto the roof, and if it hadn’t been for Gogo he would have chopped a hole through the roof.

“What you-all goin’ to do with dat ax?” asked the little colored lad as he watched the Dunce hurry up the ladder.

“Gonna chop a hole in the roof,” answered the Dunce. “You’ve always got to do that; they always chop a hole in the roof when there’s a fire.”

“But there is no fire in the roof,” cried Gogo. “It’s down in the kitchen.”

“Makes no difference,” said the Dunce; “you always have to chop a hole in the roof.” And if Gogo hadn’t grabbed the ax from the Dunce’s hand the foolish fellow would have done a lot of damage with it.

Almost a teacupful of water was thrown into the tiny kitchen and it did more damage than the fire, for really all that burned was a bean, which Mrs. Lover had put on the stove to cook, and which had boiled dry.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE DUNCE TAKES A TUMBLE

“CRICKETY!” exclaimed the Dunce as he dropped into a chair before the Teenie Weenie fireplace. “Since the Scotchman left it’s as dull around here as a lady’s pocket knife,” and the little fellow blinked mournfully into the fire.

[‡Illustration: Lady sews]

“What’s wrong, Dunce?” asked the Lady of Fashion, looking up from her sewing.

“Ah, I want to take a walk or somethin’ and everybody is busy or somethin’.”

“Why don’t you get Gogo to go along? He always likes to take a walk,” smiled the little lady.

“Ah, he an’ the Cowboy an’ the Turk are buildin’ a fly trap over at the tool house. The Sailor and the Indian are helpin’ the Cook get a spoiled potato out of the cellar. Paddy Pinn, the Doctor, the General and the Old Soldier are havin’ a meetin’ at the hospital and the Clown and the Poet are out in the back yard talkin’ nonsense with a sparrow,” growled the Dunce.

“I’d love to take a walk today, but I promised to mend this dress for Mrs. Lover and it has to be finished by four o’clock, as she and Mr. Lover and the Twins are invited over to the squirrel’s house for dinner. Why don’t you go over to the laundry and try Chuck and Zip? Maybe one of them would like to take a walk.”

“Chink!” shouted the Dunce, “I never thought about the Chinaman and Zip,” and jumping up he hurried over to the old tea pot, where he found Zip toasting his shins before the fire.

The Chinaman had just gone over to the hospital to deliver some shirts to the Doctor, but Zip was ready for a walk, and in a few minutes he slipped on his sweater and the two Teenie Weenies set off together.

There was one place the Teenie Weenies loved to visit best of all and that was any big house where big people lived, for there were always so many big and wonderful things to see.

The two little fellows made their way straight to the nearest big house, and crawling under the door they began to investigate the place.

“Let’s crawl up on that,” said the Dunce, pointing to a shelf high above their heads, “and maybe we can find somethin’ good to eat.”

After a hard climb the two Teenie Weenies landed on the shelf, but they found nothing but glass fruit jars, which towered above their heads.

“S-S-S-Say, Zip!” said the Dunce as he nodded his head in the direction of one of the jars, “that jar hasn’t got any top on it and there are pickled peaches in it. I’ve just been thinkin’ that we could get up on the shelf above and you could hold a string while I slid down into the jar and got some of the fruit.”

[‡Illustration: Slide down the string]

After a long hunt the two Teenie Weenies found a piece of string, and climbing up to the shelf the Dunce started to slide down into the jar. He got nearly half way down when the string snapped and the little chap dropped with a loud splash into the juice.

Poor Zip was scared half out of his wits and ran off for help as fast as his legs would carry him. He found three of the Teenie Weenies in the tool house, and grabbing up a piece of rope they followed the little fellow at top speed.

When they climbed up onto the shelf they all burst out with laughter, for the Dunce was a funny sight, standing on a pickled peach with the juice dripping off the end of his nose.

The Cowboy threw a rope to the Dunce and the rest of the Teenie Weenies soon pulled him to safety.

“S-S-S-Say,” gasped the Dunce, rubbing the juice out of his eyes, “don’t t-t-t-tell the General. He’d give me an awful scolding for getting into this mess.”

“Well, you know that it’s not right to go meddling into things,” said the Cowboy, “but if you promise not to try anything like this again, we’ll not tell on you.”

“I’ll promise,” answered the Dunce, “bu-bu-bu-but look at my clothes, they are spoiled.”

“Me fix that all right,” cried Zip. “Me take you to laundry and wash clothes for you.”

Taking a roundabout way so they would not be seen, the Dunce and Zip soon reached the laundry, where the Dunce stripped to the skin and crawled into the Chinaman’s bed, while Zip washed and dried the soiled clothes.

[‡Illustration: Peach jar]

“They still smell a little of the pickled peaches,” said the Dunce, as he put on his clothes.

“Your clothes not smell much like peach,” said Zip, sniffing at the Dunce. “Nobody notice him.”

As it was nearly supper time, the Dunce hurried over to the shoe house, and when he drew his chair up to the tiny dinner table the Lady of Fashion looked suspiciously at him.

“Something smells funny,” remarked the little lady.

“Smells sort of like pickled peaches,” chuckled the Cowboy, winking at the Turk.

The poor Dunce turned as red as a cranberry and he was most uncomfortable for a few minutes, but fortunately the talk turned to other matters and he felt very much relieved.

While he ate his supper the Dunce made up his mind that he would never enter another pickle jar and to his credit let it be said that he has strictly kept his word.

[‡Illustration: Dunce washing his clothes]

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THE CLOWN FALLS OFF A SPOOL AND KNOCKS DOWN A HOUSE

AFTER his experience in the pickle jar the Dunce made a resolution to try to be good whenever he went into a big house. But the busy little fellow couldn’t keep out of mischief, and it wasn’t long before he got into trouble again. He didn’t really mean to be naughty, for he was a most kind hearted little chap, but being so full of life and so curious he simply couldn’t be quiet.

He loved to look into everything he saw, and being a good climber he wanted to crawl over everything. The little people had been skating all morning and they had stopped at a house, on their way home, to warm themselves. The Dunce had gone prowling about the place and had found a child’s play room with many wonderful toys in it which he wished his friends to see.