tilly titter flew as she never flew before and in a short time she landed on the ground beside the shoe house, her feathers all ruffled up with excitement.
“i’ve got news,” she shouted, as the little women gathered about her. “i’ve just come from the general and the army will be home in about three days.”
“is my husband well?” shouted mrs. lover.
“he’s as healthy as a dandelion and as pink as a rose bud,” answered tilly.
“how’s the poet and the lady of fashion?” asked grandpa.
“well and ’appy,” cried tilly. “as i was a sayin’, the army will be ’ome in about three days. the general said to tell you that they would arrive on friday afternoon if everthing goes well. he says for you to have a good supper ready for the boys and to have plenty, for they will be as hungry as young robins.”
“is the sailor getting along nicely?” asked miss guff.
“fine as a fiddle! fine as a fiddle!” answered the sparrow. “wants to walk, ’e’s feelin’ so well, but the doctor makes ’im stay in the litter and ride.”
“well, we have got to get busy and do somethin’ for the boys,” cried grandpa. “we’ve got to give ’em a big feed and decorate the place with flags and show ’em we’re glad to see ’em.”
“we’ll get up a grand supper for them,” cried mrs. lover, “and we’ll have a dance afterwards.”
“i’ll bring over a big chunk of cheese,” cried the mouse that had joined the crowd.
“i’ll get some fat worms for the supper,” cried tilly, and instantly she blushed a deep brown. “oh, i forget you don’t eat worms. well, i’ll get some sunflower seeds.”
“i’ll donate a few nuts,” said nick, the squirrel, who had been hoping for a chance to speak.
“oh, i forgot to say that the general said ’e would come in ahead of the army so ’e could review them as they marched into the village,” cried tilly.
“he’s going to review the troops, did you say?” asked grandpa, who was hard of hearing.
“yes!” shouted tilly, right into the old gentleman’s ear. “the general is goin’ to review the army.”
“well, we got to get a reviewing stand ready for him,” cried grandpa.
“i’ll help,” shouted the mouse, “and i’ll get some mice to help, too.”
“all right, get ’em!” cried grandpa. “the sooner we get to work the better it will be.”
in a short time the teenie weenies were as busy as bees in a clover field. the little women set to work cooking and baking. they made cakes and cookies by the thimble full. they made ginger cookies, nut cookies, chocolate cake, fruit cake and half an english walnut full of doughnuts, besides all sorts of other good things.
grandpa put eight mice, a chipmunk and half a dozen bugs to work getting the place ready for the returning soldiers. they cleaned up the rubbish under the rose-bush, they moved all the desks out of the schoolhouse, where the dinner and dance were to be held, and they made a reviewing stand out of the top of a candy box.
nick, the squirrel, worked hard opening nuts. he gnawed so many his teeth became sore, but he never complained, for he was a very patriotic squirrel and most fond of the teenie weenies.
the little folks decorated the village with teenie weenie flags and bunting and when the time arrived for the army to march home the village was crowded with all sorts of visitors. bugs, mice, squirrels, birds, chipmunks, and even a few chickens and ducks, crowded under the rose-bush.
the general rode in ahead of the army and took his place on the reviewing stand amid the wildest shouting and waving of flags, but when the troops came marching into view there was such a squealing of squirrels and mice and squawking of chickens, ducks and birds, one could hardly hear oneself think. grandpa shouted so hard that he had one of his choking fits, and a mouse had to pound him on the back until he could get his breath.
when the review was over there was much hugging and kissing and some crying, for most of the little women shed a few tears of happiness, but that’s a strange way women folks have of showing they are happy. one old hen cried so hard she had to be led away. a duck insisted on kissing the dunce and a mouse hugged paddy pinn so hard it nearly broke his arm.
after the little soldiers had visited for a time they were called into the old derby hat for supper and such a supper as they had! there was roasted bird’s egg, frog ham, escalloped hickory nut, walnut au gratin, creamed hearts of sunflower seed, water cress and wild cherry salad, and cakes and cookies and sliced grape and ice cream.
when the little soldiers had eaten until they could not hold another morsel, the general arose from his seat at the head of the big table and made a speech.
“friends and men of the teenie weenie army,” he began, “i want to thank you for your loyal and hearty service. you have gone through hardships and you have risked your lives in battle without complaint. you have done this to aid those in trouble and nothing greater can be said of your deeds than that they were done willingly. men, i am proud to have been your leader.”
“three cheers for the army!” shouted a mouse who had been helping to wait on table, and the cheers were given with a will.
next the lady of fashion made a little speech. she very prettily thanked the general and the army for having rescued the poet and herself from the wild men and as she sat down there were tears in her pretty eyes. the poet spoke and grandpa made a speech about the great war in forty-two, but few heard what the old gentleman said, for they were anxious to talk to one another about the great events of the rescue of their friends.
“friends!” shouted paddy pinn, when grandpa had sat down, “i think the dunce ought to explain to the rest of us just why that old duck was so anxious to kiss him.” every one yelled so loudly for the dunce that he was forced to stand up, but he was so embarrassed he couldn’t speak a word and the teenie weenies laughed so hard they cried.
when the tables had been cleared away the orchestra started playing and in a few minutes the little folks were swinging around to the music of “the lady of fashion waltz.” they danced until nearly morning—in fact it was broad daylight when the tired little soldiers crawled into their tiny beds, every one of them mighty thankful that they were safely home again.
“the war is over, our duty is done;
hang up the pistol, the sword and the gun.”
rufus rhyme,
teenie weenie poet.
