"Mercy on us, Hezekiah! It seems as if I could smell smoke!" cried Aunt Squeaky one hot summer afternoon.

"Now, Belindy, please don't begin sniffing for smoke," grinned Uncle 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 shouting excited orders to the crowd of scared woodland folk.

The fire crept nearer to Wild Rose Cottage.

"It will be a shame if Dr. Whiskers loses his new house," said Sir Spider.

"He shall not lose it," replied Uncle Squeaky. "I'll set a back fire." He rushed into the house and got a pawful of matches. Then he set fire to the little bushes behind Grand-daddy's house.

"Neighbor Squeaky has gone crazy!" declared Sir Spider to Daddy Grasshopper. But as they watched him beat the burning bushes to a blackened mass, they saw that Uncle Squeaky knew what he was doing.

"Neighbor Squeaky has saved Dr. Whisker's house. That burned patch cannot burn again, Sir Spider," cried Daddy Grasshopper. "Come on. We will make a little fire around Pa Field-Mouse's cottage."

"Pile of Rails Cottage is on fire!" cried Scamper Squeaky as he trotted by. "Come on and help Pa Field-Mouse!"

They rushed to the Field-Mouse's Cottage, but the little cedars which overhung the roof were already a mass of crackling flames. "Nothing more can be saved for Neighbor Field-Mouse. Help me build back fires up yonder and save Neighbor Hop Toad's house."

They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain

They worked bravely with Uncle Squeaky for captain, and, following his directions, they finally stopped the dreadful fire. Then tired out, they sat under the laurel bushes to rest and talk it over.

"How did the fire start?" asked Uncle Squeaky.

"One of those Skunk kids was trying to smoke a grape-vine cigarette," piped Tony Spider. "I saw him."

"Where did he get matches?" demanded Uncle Squeaky.

"Prob'ly he stole 'em," sputtered Mistress Grasshopper. "I should think Dinah Skunk would wallop those little Skunks forty times a day. They are a mean crowd."

"And poor Debbie Field-Mouse's home is in ruins, all because of little Skunk's cigarette. Sniff! sniff! sniff!" cried Mother Graymouse.

"A Lake full of water and no way to put out a fire," scolded Aunt Squeaky. "I guess likely, Hezekiah, I shall worry some more about smoke. Let me catch a kiddie smoking cigarettes!"

"Poor Debbie! I'm so sorry for you, dearie," moaned Granny Whiskers.

Debby Field-Mouse smiled calmly.

"Ah, Granny, it might be worse. I have lost eight children in an earthquake; I have been caught out in a blizzard and nigh frozen to death. No one is hurt and we saved a few things. Maybe we can build a finer house."

"Right you are, Debby Field-Mouse, and brave, also!" cried Uncle Squeaky admiringly. "We will all lend a paw and you shall have a nice new house right beside my Gray Rock Bungalow. Then you and Betsey and Belindy can be real neighborly. You must stay at our house until your new home is ready. What do you say, neighbors? Shall we begin Pa Field-Mouse's bungalow bright and early tomorrow?"

Sir Spider, Squire Cricket, Mr. Hop Toad, Jack Rabbit, and Daddy Grasshopper nodded approvingly.

"We will all help," they promised.

Debby Field-Mouse looked sadly at the blackened ruins of her old home; then taking Mother Graymouse's arm, she led little Wee to Uncle Squeaky's home. The others went homeward, also, for it was getting late.

"A little music is like medicine to a sad mouse," said Uncle Squeaky after supper. "Pa Field-Mouse seems down-hearted tonight. Trot along, laddies, and put on your band uniforms that Ma Graymouse made last summer. We will give Pa Field-Mouse a band concert."

Grand-daddy nodded his head.

"A grand idea, Hezekiah. Melodious music makes many melancholy mice merry. Ha! ha! That's nearly as good as the jingle Robert Giant used to sing about 'Picker Peter's peppered pickles.'"

Buster Graymouse hopped up and down in delight. He laughed until the tears ran down his fat cheeks.

"What's the trouble, Buster Boy?" asked Grand-daddy. "Did you eat too much supper?"

"No, Grand-daddy, but my little jacket is nearly bursting. Ah, that is too funny! Guess I shall laugh all night."

"I fear you have outgrown your band suit, Buster," said Mother Graymouse. "I shall have to give you less to eat."

"Ah no, Mammy!" cried Buster in alarm. "Please don't starve me. Oh! oh! What Robert Giant realty said was:

"'Peter picked a pint of pickled pipers.'"

"What's pipers, Buster?" asked Tiny.

"I don't know; prob'ly something good to eat. It was one of Robert's funny songs, twinnie. I can make nicer songs myself," bragged Buster.

"All ready for the concert!" shouted Uncle Squeaky.

Wink and Buster found their cornets; Limpy-toes brought his flute, Wiggle his fife, Scamper the alto horn, and Nimble-toes his beloved drum. At a signal from Uncle Squeaky, the little band began to play Silvy's Waltz.

It was late when they had played all the music they could remember. The moonlight cast long shadows over the dewy grass and even the Frog Orchestra was hushed and listening.

The little band began to play Silvy's Waltz

"Now your Uncle Hezekiah will play a goodnight jig." Uncle Squeaky hopped nimbly up and played such a jolly tune upon his fiddle that they all joined paws and danced in a circle about him.

"Enough! enough, Hezekiah!" panted Grand-daddy at last. "We must rest if we expect to build a bungalow tomorrow. I shall not be Dr. Whiskers, but just a good neighbor mouse tomorrow. I reckon my patients can wait while I have one vacation day. Hurrah for a holiday and a fine new house for Neighbor Field-Mouse! Come, Granny, we're homeward bound. Fetch the automobile, Limpy-toes. I hope the twistity will not give out. Good-night, folkses, goodnight!"