rasshopper Green felt so much better when he awoke in the morning, and a fine sunny morning it was, too, for the storm was over. The kindness of the Meadow-Mice, even mere than the food and warmth, had made him feel almost like himself again, and if you've ever been acquainted with Grasshoppers, you know, of course, how sprightly and happy they naturally are.

He was still rather weak, however; so Mother Meadow-Mouse, who was a famous nurse, made him stay in bed and took care of him as if he had been one of her own family.

She put a mustard-seed poultice on his chest, and gave him a little hot corn gruel, and a drop or two of honey every two hours for his hoarseness.

Grasshopper Green improved so rapidly that by the time the young mice got home from school he was well enough to get up. I forgot to tell you that Long-Tail, Sharp-Eyes, Pink-Ears and Mouseykins were taught by a wise old grey mouse whom they called "Uncle." "Uncle" lived in a nice stone house, a hole in the foundation of a ruined barn, near-by.

They were all very merry that evening at the supper table. Jolly Father Meadow-Mouse told them a rattling good yarn about the adventures of some young water-rats who put to sea in an old pie plate and determined to become pie-rats! (Your mother will explain this little joke.)

After supper, while the youngsters were doing their lessons, Grasshopper Green helped Father and Mother Meadow-Mouse with the dishes. It made him feel very sad to think that he must soon be leaving this pleasant household.

He thanked Father and Mother Meadow-Mouse for all their goodness, and started to say that he ought to be leaving the next morning, as he had nothing with which to pay for his keep, but Father Meadow-Mouse interrupted him.

"You'll do no such thing," he exclaimed heartily. "Now you just listen to me. If you want to pay us, you can do it in this way. Give us all dancing lessons, and play us a lively tune on your little fiddle now and then, for every one knows that all Grasshoppers are wonderful dancers and fiddlers."

This plan, of course, just suited Grasshopper Green. In fact he was so delighted at the prospect of spending the winter with the merry, kind-hearted Meadow-Mice that he made a tremendous leap which carried him clear to the other end of the room. A second leap almost landed him in a pan of dish-water!

In the midst of his caperings there was a knock at the door.

It was Mr. and Mrs. White-Mouse, old friends of the Meadow-Mice, who had come to make a friendly call. Grasshopper Green had never seen any White-Mice before, and he thought them very beautiful and aristocratic with their pale complexions, ruby-colored eyes and long pinky tails. (For White-Mice do look that way, you know).

He learned later that they belonged to a little boy living in a near-by farm house.[1]

Rap, tap, tap!—more guests arrived: three dainty little roadside Fairies with these funny names, Sun-Flower-Seed, Thistle-Whistle, and Ragged Sailor. (Fairies and Mice are usually very good friends; in fact, Great-Grandfather Goodheart says—but I'll tell you about that some other time.)

Grasshopper Green had met Ragged Sailor before. He was quite a musician and carried his tiny golden accordion in the sailor blouse he always wore.

It wasn't long before Grasshopper Green had his tiny fiddle tuned up, and Ragged Sailor got out his accordion. Then they started to play the liveliest little tunes you ever heard.

The rest of the party pushed the chairs and table back against the wall, to make room for dancing and then—Bless your heart! What a good time they all had. I sometimes wish that I were small enough to dance with a Fairy or a Mouse. Don't you?

First they played the Pansy Petal Polka—a great favorite with the Fairies; then the Dragon Fly Dance and the Wheatfield Gavotte.[2]

They danced everything they could think of, from the ridiculous Caterpillar Crawl to the lovely Moon-Moth Minuet, ending up with the Grasshopper Hornpipe. In this dance, the object was to see which dancer could leap the highest and crack his heels together oftenest before he touched the floor.

Sunflower Seed did this the best of all, for she had a pair of beautiful striped wings, like a butterfly's, which enabled her to stay in the air as long as she pleased.

The Meadow-Mouse Children, who had gone to bed soon after the company came, were awakened by the noise of the Grasshopper Hornpipe, which was the most boisterous of all the dances.

Everybody was in such good humor that the little Meadow-Mice were allowed to stay up and come in, to join the fun.

Dancing so much had made everyone hungry; so Father Meadow-Mouse got the corn popper and they popped, and popped, and popped, and ate, and ate, and ate! I don't dare to tell you how much they ate. Especially the four youngsters. The Fairies, too, seemed very fond of the popcorn.

"It's such a nice change from rose pollen and honeysuckle juice," Thistle-Whistle remarked.

Well, finally, Mr. White-Mouse said, "We must really be going now, for it's getting very late."

"And so must we," said the Fairies, and that pleasant evening came to an end.

This, though, was only one of the many merry gatherings at the home of the Meadow-Mice.

Even when no friends dropped in they had fine cosy evenings.

Sometimes they would all play games, sometimes Father Meadow-Mouse would tell one of his entertaining stories, and sometimes Mrs. Meadow-Mouse would sing while Grasshopper Green accompanied her on his fiddle. Here's the chorus of one of her quaint little songs:

Although, during the winter, Grasshopper Green hardly ever dared to go outdoors on account of the cold, which of course is very dangerous to Grasshoppers, he had such happy times with his new friends that the months passed very quickly.