Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.

Nellie M. Leonard
Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.

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Title: Grand-Daddy Whiskers, M.D.
Author: Nellie M. Leonard
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GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS, M.D. ***

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GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS, M.D.
By
NELLIE M. LEONARD
Illustrated By
CARLE MICHEL BOOG

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
A MESSAGE PROM THE WOODFOLK
CHAPTER II
BACK TO THE LAKE
CHAPTER III
GRAND-DADDY BEGINS HIS WORK

CHAPTER IV
DOT SQUEAKY'S SUMMER SCHOOL
CHAPTER V
A WOODS FIRE
CHAPTER VI
DR. WHISKER'S BUSY DAY
CHAPTER VII
TWIN TAILS
CHAPTER VIII
WIGGLE BORROWS THE AUTOMOBILE
CHAPTER IX
AUTUMN LEAVES
CHAPTER X
SNOWED IN

ILLUSTRATIONS
Somebody stole softly up behind him; two paws blindfolded his eyes
"All aboard for Pond Lily Lake!" he cried gaily
The heavy furniture cart was pulled down the last hill

"Will you walk into my parlor, Dr. Whiskers?"
Dr. Whiskers worked deftly away, setting the broken limb
Webbie Spider raised his paw
They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain
The little band began to play Silvy's Waltz
Dr. Whiskers twisted and pulled upon the hook
It was long past midnight when tired old Grand-daddy pulled off his
boots.
"Fetch that creoline bottle, Silvy," repeated Grand-daddy sternly.
"Hold your breath, now"
They had good fun picking the brown nuts from the soft, silky linings
of the burrs.
Sure enough, next morning poor Buster could hardly see out of his
eyes.
"And so," explained Uncle Squeaky, "he went on a hop, skip and jump
like this"
He folded his paws as Mammy had taught him long ago, tossed his
head high and sang merrily.

GRAND-DADDY WHISKERS M.D.
CHAPTER I
A MESSAGE FROM THE WOODFOLK

Nimble-toes Field-mouse trotted briskly along the dark subway and up
the steep attic stairway in Mr. Giant's house. He had travelled a long
way from his woodland home and it was getting late. The door of the
cosy attic 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 his eyes.]
"You must be hungry after your long tramp, Nimble-toes," said Mother
Graymouse. "Supper is all ready."
The little mice crowded around their cousin from the Pond Lily Lake

country. They all talked at once, squealing excitedly and asking all
sorts of questions, until poor Nimble-toes was bewildered.
At last he climbed upon a little red stool and shouted in Uncle
Squeaky's ear:
"I've a message for Grand-daddy Whiskers. Please make 'em be still a
minute, Uncle Hezekiah."
Uncle Squeaky rapped smartly upon the floor with his cane. At once
there was silence.
"Fetch your little stools and sit
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