the rat said,
"Please let me have a little fire and a little salt as I wish to make
a little bowl of hot catfish soup to keep me warm through the
blizzard."

And the four uncles all said together, "This is no time for rats to be
around--and we would like to ask you where you got the catfish in the
basket."

"Oh, oh, oh, please--in the name of the five rusty rats, the five
lucky rats of the Village of Cream Puffs, please don't," was the
exclamation of Wing Tip the Spick.

The uncles stopped. They looked long and deep into the eyes of Wing
Tip the Spick and thought, as they had thought before, how her eyes
were clear light blue the same as cornflowers with blue raindrops
shining on the silver leaves in a summer sun shower.

And the four uncles opened the door and let the gray rat come in with
the basket and the catfish. They showed the gray rat the way to the
kitchen and the fire and the salt. And they watched the rat and kept
him company while he fixed himself a catfish soup to keep him warm
traveling through the blizzard with the sky full of snow.

After they opened the front door and let the rat out and said good-by,
they turned to Wing Tip the Spick and asked her to tell them about the
five rusty lucky rats of the Village of Cream Puffs where she lived
with her father and her mother and her folks.

"When I was a little girl growing up, before I learned all I learned
since I got older, my grandfather gave me a birthday present because I
was nine years old. I remember how he said to me, 'You will never be
nine years old again after this birthday, so I give you this box for a
birthday present.'

"In the box was a pair of red slippers with a gold clock on each
slipper. One of the clocks ran fast. The other clock ran slow. And he
told me if I wished to be early anywhere I should go by the clock that
ran fast. And if I wished to be late anywhere I should go by the clock
that ran slow.

"And that same birthday he took me down through the middle of the
Village of Cream Puffs to the public square near the Roundhouse of the
Big Spool. There he pointed his finger at the statue of the five rusty
rats, the five lucky rats. And as near as I can remember his words, he
said:

"'Many years ago, long before the snow birds began to wear funny
little slip-on hats and funny little slip-on shoes, and away back long
before the snow birds learned how to slip off their slip-on hats and
how to slip off their slip-on shoes, long a