One morning several of the Teenie Weenies were returning from their marketing back of the grocery store. They had found two dried prunes and a perfectly good string bean, so they were happy as they trudged through the deep snow. Just as they entered a bit of thick brush they met Ginky, whom they hadn't seen for many weeks. The mouse would have passed them by, but the General bowed and wished him good morning.

Ginky stopped and leaned against a bush and gave the Teenie Weenies a cold nod. "Collecting garbage, I see," he remarked.

"We are getting what has been thrown out of the grocery," answered the General. "We get it honestly no matter whether you call it garbage or not."

''Well, I'm sorry for folks who have to eat garbage," sneered Ginky, quite forgetting that he had often eaten out of the Teenie Weenies' garbage thimble. "I prefer better food."

"You seem to be living well these days." sad the General, glancing at the mouse's sleek hair, rounded tummy, and well-groomed whiskers. "You must have struck it rich."

"Yes, I'm rich," answered Ginky. "I'm living in the grocery basement. Everything I want right at hand and no cat on the place. Wealth is rather troublesome, though, for one has it be constantly on guard to protect one's property. I must be always on the watch for thieving mice. I'm living right beneath a huge cheese. York State cheese, and my favorite brand."

"I thought you didn't believe in property rights," smiled the General. "Have you changed your mind?"

"I don't believe in other folks' property rights - if that's what you mean," answered Ginky.

"Well, Ginky," warned the General, "I'm afraid your prosperity won't last long. Your sin will be found out in time."

"That's what you think," Ginky retorted. "I'm too smart to gnaw into a cheese where it can be seen by the grocer. I work from beneath. That's why I fight off other mice and keep this cheese for myself. They would be stupid enough to eat right off the top and that's a dead give-away."

Throwing the Teenie Weenies a superior glance, the mouse hurried away toward the grocery and his wealth. It wasn't long, though, until the Teenie Weenies heard from a sparrow, who had it straight from one of the respectable mice, that a depression had overtaken Ginky. The grocer had brought a cat to live in the grocery basement.

Most of the Teenie Weenies believed that Gogo was the champion Teenie Weenie roller skater, but a few of the little people thought the Dunce was just as good. The Dunce loudly agreed with those few and he did considerable boasting about his skating.

"You can't prove your skating ability by talkin'," said the Turk after listening to the Dunce's appreciation of his own skating. "If you want to decide who is the champion skater you'll have to hold a race."

The idea of a roller skating race appealed to the little folk and they set about making arrangements. They dragged a big cardboard box cover under some bushes for a rink and Gogo and the Dunce went into training. They skated every spare minute in order to get themselves in condition for the contest. The Dunce announced that he was going on a strict diet in order to be fit for the race. He didn't eat a single doughnut in over a week, which was a great surprise to the Teenie Weenies because the Dunce almost never denies himself anything in the way of good food.

A day was set for the race, but before it could be held a great storm covered the rink with snow. It was then decided to hold the race in one of the big houses whose owners were usually away during the day. One morning the Teenie Weenies went to a house on the lane, but they found the floor was too rough for Teenie Weenie roller skating. Then they climbed up onto a dining table that stood in the room. There were a number of dishes on the table, including a big plate which the Teenie Weenies decided would make a fine track for the race.

While the Dunce and Gogo put on their tiny skates, the Sailor scraped up some dried egg yolk from the plate and made a mark on the rim. "Now you fellows get ready," said the Sailor. "The first man to cross this egg mark after skating around the rim of the plate 10 times will be the champion."

After several false starts, the race finally got under way. The little skaters fairly flew around the plate, and each time one of them passed the egg mark, the Sailor, who was sitting in the center of the plate, made a mark on a tiny piece of paper.

It was a mighty close race for a few rounds but finally Gogo pulled ahead and won by half a plate. To everyone's surprise, the Dunce seemed happy.

"Oh, boy! I'm glad this race is over," he grinned. "Now I'm through dieting and I'm gonna fill up on doughnuts." He hurried home and ate every last crumb in the doughnut thimble.

One afternoon the Cook put a dried raisin on to boil. He brought out his tiny rolling pin, a cherry seed of shortening and his pastry board. He put them on the kitchen table and called up the stairs to the Lady of Fashion.

"All ready for you to make those raisin pies," the Cook shouted.

The little lady had just stepped into the kitchen when a great commotion took place outside the kitchen door. The Cook opened the door and there was an orange surrounded by excited Teenie Weenies.

"Look!" puffed the Dunce, his breath rolling out in clouds on the frosty air. "We found an orange back of the grocery and we've got to get it into the house before it freezes."

"You'll never get that orange through the doorway," said the Cook.

"Get an ax," shouted the excited Dunce, "and I'll cut the doorway bigger."

"Wouldn't it be less trouble to cut the orange in two?" asked the Cook. "Anyhow, half the orange will about fill the kitchen and it will make enough marmalade to fill every thimble and hazelnut container we have on the place."

The weather was very cold outside and in order to keep the orange from freezing, the little men worked like beavers cutting the orange in two with a Teenie Weenie crosscut saw. When it was cut the men had a hard time forcing it through the kitchen doorway. The Cook and the Lady of Fashion pushed the kitchen table against the wall to make a place for the orange.

"Boy!" exclaimed the Cowboy. "That sure will make a lot of marmalade.

"Well, we'd better forget the raisin pies and get busy cutting up this orange," the Cook told the Lady of Fashion. "We'll have to get this orange disposed of before we can have supper."

"The Cook, the Lady of Fashion and several other Teenie Weenies set to work with Teenie Weenie hatchets, axes and knives, and when they had finished cutting up the orange, every single kettle and thimble - even the last acorn shell basket - had been filled to the top.

Of course there was juice and melted snow all over the place, and the kitchen had to be mopped before supper could be cooked. The Teenie Weenies had a very late supper that night and there was no raisin pie. But during the next few days everything that could be filled was brimming with marmalade which will make the little people happy for many days to come.

The Lady of Fashion has the largest and best room in the shoe house, where most of the Teenie Weenies live. The tiny lady is very particular and her room is furnished beautifully. Her bed is an antique, having formerly belonged to the great grandmother of the Old Soldier with a wooden leg. (She had brought it from the East in a mouse cart.) There are two wee sconces on each side of an antique mirror above her dressing table and she has a lovely bureau. All of these treasures were carted from the East, too. However, the Lady of Fashion has a modern clothes closet, which several of the Teenie Weenie men made out of a safety match box.

In spite of all these attractions the room is cold in Winter, for it has no fireplace. The Lady of Fashion has been hinting for a stove for a long time. But the Turk and the Old Soldier, who are the best Teenie Weenie mechanics, never seemed to catch the idea until the Lady of Fashion stopped knitting.

The Lady of Fashion knits most of the mittens, stockings and sweaters the Teenie Weenies wear, and when it grew so cold in her room the little lady had to stop work on a sweater for the Turk, that capable mechanic finally took the hint.

"My! My!" exclaimed the Turk, when he found that work had stopped on his sweater. "What a beast I have been! Of course you shall have a stove."

The Turk and the Old Solder set to work in the coffee can which serves the little men for a workshop. All day long for several days the ring of beaten iron came from the shop as the little men hammered out the parts on the bolt nut which they used for an anvil. Finally they fashioned a smart little stove out of two thimbles. They cut out doors and a place for the smoke pipe, put in a tiny grate and bolted the two thimbles together. Then they made a ring with legs to it and bolted that to the thimbles.

When the stove was finished they set it up in the Lady of Fashion's room. They put a piece of tin under the stove so there would be no danger of hot coals burning the polished floor, and the Lady of Fashion was delighted.

"It will be snug in here now and I won't have to wear out my best caterpillar fur coat to keep warm," she said.

"Glad to do it for you! Glad to do it for you!" said the Turk as he watched the Lady of Fashion pick up his unfinished sweater and begin knitting.

Several days before Christmas the Teenie Weenies were gathered about the tiny fireplace in the shoe house living room one evening after supper. The Lady of Fashion was telling a Christmas story, and most of the little folk were there except the Dunce, who had been sent to bed for peeping into Christmas packages. It was a cold, clear night and presently three mice tiptoed through the snow and took up a position near the shoe house porch. One of the mice unfolded a bit of paper and there was much quiet clearing of mousy throats.

"Now! One, two, three!" whispered one of the mice, beating time with his paw, and the three mice burst into a song that brought the Teenie Weenies tumbling out of the house. In spite of the cold, the Dunce climbed out of bed. Crawling out of a window, he walked bare-footed right out onto the snow-covered roof of the porch.

The three mice sang with all their might, especially the youngest one, who had a rather squeaky voice. The Teenie Weenies couldn't make out all of the words of the carol. It was a short song and the mice sang if over and over until the Teenie Weenies finally had to invite the mice into the house, for Teenie Weenie toes had begun to ache with the cold.

The singers were the two respectable mice and their young cousin. They told the Teenie Weenies that their aunt, who lives in a public library, and who is the author of much mousy verse, had written the song. As some of the words had been lost in the confusion of voices, the Chinaman read the words of the song to the Teenie Weenies, and this is what he read:

We come to sing our Christmas cheer
And wish you luck throughout the year.
We pray no catses catches you,
And hope the same of trapses, too.

"A pretty song," said the Lady of Fashion, "and it is nice of you to sing for us."

"The singing would have been better," confided one of the respectable mice in a whisper to the Lady of Fashion, "if we hadn't had our young cousin with us. His mother wrote the song and so we had to bring him along. He thinks he's a great singer, but he means well."

The young cousin complained of a sore throat, and after the Teenie Weenie Doctor had given him some medicine, he advised the mouse to quit singing and take a long rest. This was very gratifying to the two respectable mice.

Joe Mando looked out of the window of his florist shop and was surprised to see a sparrow fly down and pick up a spray of holly from the pieces he had swept out of the store.

"Look, Angelo!' A sparrow just flew away with a piece of holly. What do you think it's gonna do with that? It's mighty prickly to put into a nest."

"Christmas spirit," chuckled Angelo. "That bird is gonna decorate its nest for Christmas."

Both men laughed but they would have been greatly surprised had they known the spray of holly would provide the main decorations in a town hall for a Christmas party.

The Lady of Fashion always manages the decorations for the Teenie Weenie Christmas party. Some of the little men go into the woods and bring back sprays of cedar, balsam and wintergreen leaves. These are hung about the walls of the old hat the little people use for a town hall.

One morning the Old Soldier with a wooden leg and several other Teenie Weenies set off to the woods in search of the usual decorations. On the way they met a friend, Tilly Titter, the English sparrow, who asked where they were going.

"To gather a lot of Winter greens to decorate the town hall for our Christmas party," answered the Old Soldier.

"Why don't you get some 'olly?" asked Tilly.

"That would be nice, but holly doesn't grow around here," said the Old Soldier.

"Lawsy!" exclaimed Tilly. "I can get you some. Saw a lot of it back of a florist shop not far away."

"That would be fine," answered the Old Soldier. "I always say there's nothing like holly at Christmas time."

When the little men went back to the Teenie Weenie village and reported to the Lady of Fashion, she was delighted with the idea of holly for decorations.

Presently Tilly flew into the village and landed on the little railing which runs about the brim of the hat. She dropped the spray of holly she carried and said, "I'll get some more.' Off she flew and in a short time she had piled a lot of holly in front of the tiny doorway.

Joe Mando has been telling all his friends about the bird that came to his shop and carried off holly to decorate its nest for Christmas. Joe enjoys telling the story, but he could tell a better one if he knew just how these sprigs of holly were used by the Teenie Weenies.

The Teenie Weenies usually bought their eggs from a queer old hen that lived near the Teenie Weenie village. She was a Plymouth Rock and like most Plymouth Rocks she was talkative. Because she was continually clucking and making a fuss, the Teenie Weenies had named her "The Boomer." It took a lot of bargaining to get an egg out of her, for she was rather sharp in a business deal. Some of the Teenie Weenies could understand a little chicken talk, but when a deal was on for an egg, it was usually the Chinaman who bargained for it because he speaks Plymouth like a hen.

The Teenie Weenies were entirely out of egg. There wasn't a doughnut or cookie in the village, and the General was most unhappy without his morning omelet. The little folk had been trying for several weeks to get an egg from the old hen, but she was very cranky and demanded black market prices. However, the weather helped the Teenie Weenies out of their trouble. It turned bitter cold and the Teenie Weenies were able to do the hen a favor which made her more reasonable in her price.

One cold morning the Sailor reported that the hen's drinking water was frozen. "She's thirsty and she wants us to break the ice," the Sailor told the General.

"Ah, shucksl" exploded the Dunce. "We're all the time breakin' ice for old hens. Don't do it until she agrees to lay us an egg."

"No," said the General, "we can't take advantage of her trouble. That would be wrong. But we can go over and help her get a drink."

The hen's drinking water had been put into an old tin cup and the water had frozen solid. The little men carried some Teenie Weenie tools and the Cook's biggest kettle, which the Teenie Weenies use for making apple butter. While some of the men chopped off pieces of ice, the Cook set up the kettle and built a fire under it. The pieces of ice were thrown into the kettle and when they were melted the water was poured into a carrying thimble and given to the thirsty hen as quickly as the little men could take it to her.

She was terribly thirsty and she drank 18 thimbles of water. She was so grateful she promptly laid a large egg and she told the General her price would be only 7½ grains of corn and 4 grasshoppers - the grasshoppers to be delivered to her next Summer. She had been asking 10 grains of corn and 6 large, plump grasshoppers or 8 small grasshoppers.

"For goodness sake!" exclaimed the Cook one morning when he swept two blackberry thorns from behind the kitchen stove. "Gogo, I wish you'd take these thorns out of the kitchen. They've been back of the stove here for more than three weeks."

"Yas, sah," answered Gogo, who was drying the breakfast dishes. "Ah reckon those thorns are dry by now. Ah is gwine fo' to make a combination grub hoe and wah club out of those thorns."

"WAR CLUB?" gasped the Cook. "What in the name of prune seeds do you want with a war club?"

"Ah is gwne fo' to make wah on caterpillars, ants and other varmints next Summah and Ah decided fo' to make a good stout garden hoe and a wah club," grinned Gogo.

"Those blackberry thorns are sure tough," said the Cook. "One of 'em saved my life once."

"How dat?" asked Gogo.

"Well," began the Cook as he sat down on the kitchen stool, "I wanted to get about seven or eight blackberries to make into jam and jelly. I tried to get the boys to bring some berries, but they were all busy digging a potato and I decided to get them myself. There are some big bushes growing right beside the lane, and I was afraid if I waited too long the birds or the big folks would get them. I climbed up to the top of one of the bushes because the berries ripen first at the top. I pulled off a big one and was reaching for another when an automobile went tearing by on the lane. The speed of the auto as if rushed by made a blast of wind like a cyclone and I was blown off the bush. I grabbed a leaf as I fell but it tore loose from the bush and I'd have been a goner if a thorn hadn't caught my sweater and kept me from falling. If was a long way down to the ground and I just hung there for a few minutes before I was calm enough to drag myself back onto the bush. I'll tell you, I was pretty well scared. I wished I had waited until some of the boys could come with me."

"Did yo' get enough berres fo' de jam?" asked Gogo, who was particularly fond of jam on his bread. "Or did you jes' light out for home when you got down on the ground once mo?"

"Oh, yes, I got my berries all right," answered the Cook. "I pulled off eight or nine and dropped them to the ground and then I climbed down and packed them home on my back. I got 41 jars of jam and 26 jars of jelly from those berries. The Lady of Fashion said it was the best blackberry jam and jelly she ever ate."

Not long ago the Dunce became interested in a little girl who lives in one of the big houses near the Teenie Weenie village. By holding a maple leaf In front of his tiny body, he could get rather close to the little girl without being seen. The little girl had a kitten which she dressed up in her doll's clothes, and that tickled the Dunce.

One day while the family was away the Dunce thought it would be fun to visit the little girl's house. He asked several of the Teenie Weenie men to go along and they soon made their way into the house. The kitten was at home, but it was fast asleep and the little men did not disturb it. They examined everything in the house with much interest and then they climbed up onto a desk that stood in the little girl's room. There were several books. a couple of lead pencils, a bottle of ink, a box, a rule and some pieces of writing paper on the desk.

At first, the little men had lots of fun lying on the rule and measuring themselves. To the Dunce's great delight, he was the tallest Teenie Weenie, measuring 2 1/16 inches - just 1/32 of an inch taller than the Turk.

"I'm going to write a letter," announced the Dunce, picking up one of the pencils. "I know the little girl well enough to write to her."

"But she doesn't know you," the Turk objected. "Maybe she doesn't even know Teenie Weenies live here."

"She'll soon know," the Dunce promised.

The other Teenie Weenies gathered around and looked on while the Dunce struggled with the heavy pencil. The pencil was so big it was about all the Dunce could do to move it along the paper, but finally he managed to pencil out a rather scrawly note.

"I'll bet that little girl will be surprised when she finds this letter," said the Dunce, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve.

When the little girl found the letter on her desk that evening, she was properly surprised. But she had a hard time reading it, for the writing was very bad and the spelling was even worse. After a great deal of puzzling, this is what she read:

It had been raining off and on for nearly a week and the Chinaman was very discouraged. It was most trying to live in a teapot along with a week's washing of wet clothes even though was a Teenie Weenie washing.

"Allie same me sorry to live all time with wet clothes everywheres," the Chinaman complained to the Turk.

"What you need is a drying house," said the Turk.

"That what me thinks," answered the Chinaman brightly. "Me all time think that belly basket you found the other days would make a velly fine house to dry clothes in."

"Shucks!" exploded the Turk. "We're going to use the boards in that berry basket to put down a new floor in the town hail. That lumber is too good to use for a drying house."

"Allie light," said the Chinaman, "no drying house no more washie. Me do no washie until me gets a place to dry clothes. Me tired living in teapot with wet washie."

The following week the Chinaman refused to do the Teenie Weenie washing. He went fishing with the Dunce and visited Skippy, the chipmunk, and birds who live near the Teenie Weenie village. When two weeks' washing piled up and there were no clean sheets for the Teenie Weenie beds, the little people began to complain. "Allie light," said the Chinaman, "make dry house out of that belly basket and I washie."

Berry baskets are the finest lumber for Teenie Weenie use. The boards are not too thick for Teenie Weenie saws and nails and the men hoard a berry basket for that reason. The Turk offered to move up a pasteboard box for a drying house, but the Chinaman refused that on the grounds that it would get wet and soon break down. Finally there wasn't a clean handkerchief or bed sheet in the village. The Cook washed out his dish towels occasionally and the Lady of Fashion washed her bedclothes and tiny undergarments in a thimble. Finally, the Turk agreed to build a drying house for the Chinaman out of the berry basket the Teenie Weenies had been saving.

The men moved the basket near the teapot, cut in windows, made a door and built on a waterproof roof. The Chinaman was delighted and he set to work washing all the soiled Teenie Weenie clothes. He washed and ironed for days before he had all the clothes clean.

"Me don't mind washie clothes," the Chinaman says, "but me don't all time like to live in teapot with a wet washie drying there."

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