[Illustration: Dr. Whiskers twisted and pulled upon the hook.]

"Grand-daddy!" called Wiggle from the grove. "I have the hornet's nest.
Isn't it big? We had a fight with the hornets. I ran away, but Buster and
Wink are chuck full of stingers. They want you to come quick. Buster is
howling real loud."

Dr. Grand-daddy trotted along the pine-needle path.

"Oh, Grand-daddy, those hornets were full of hot prickers!" sobbed Buster.

"Wait a bit, kiddies," he called. "I'll mix some mud plasters that will
stop the pain. So the hornets won out, did they?"

"No, sir, they didn't!" cried Wink, doubling his little fists. "We beat
'em, Grand-daddy. We got what we went after. Wiggle rolled their nest
home."

"I guess you are right, sonny," grinned Grand-daddy. "I'll soon cure the
wounds for my brave soldiers. There, you feel better already. Forward
march. I want to get back and work on the new bungalow."

But Grand-daddy had just begun to nail up a pantry shelf, when Mother
Graymouse beckoned.

He found Tim Scrabble waiting for him.

"Can you go home with me, Dr. Whiskers?" he asked eagerly. "Jimmie and
Johnnie have the whooping cough; Janie ate some candy and it made her
tooth ache, and Baby Judy has the croup. Worst of all, Polly went into