In A Sugar Bowl - June 7th, 1942

Ginky was a mischievous mouse. He was in the habit of getting into big people's houses, where he thought nothing of nibbling through cream bottle caps and gnawing into breakfast food packages on pantry shelves.

The Teenie Weenies were polite to the mouse, but they had little to do with him. However, the Dunce seemed to spend considerable time with Ginky, and the General warned that happy-go-lucky Teenie Weenie that he would get into trouble sooner or later if he continued to run around with the mouse.

"Ah, Ginky is all right," Dunce insisted. "He's lots of fun, and besides, I know enough to take care of myself."

"Well, time will tell," smiled the General, and time did tell very shortly.

One morning the Dunce and Ginky sat down behind the tool house to talk. The Dunce, who had a large sweet tooth for such a small person, complained about the shortage of sugar.

"Bunk!" exclaimed Ginky. "I know where there is enough sugar to fill this tool house. It's in a sugar bowl and there is no top on the bowl."

"Yeh, but it's not my sugar," said the Dunce.

"Well, you just said that you Teenie Weenies didn't have enough sugar, and here's this bowl with stacks in it. Why should those big people have all that sugar while you haven't any?" asked Ginky with a sly look. "Do you think that's fair?"

"Well, I don't know," the Dunce said doubtfully.

"Of course, it's not fair," Ginky came back "Let's go over there and get some. I'll let you down into the bowl and you can get a hatful. Those big folk would never miss a hatful."

"No, that wouldn't be right," said the Dunce. "It would be stealing."

"Aw, cat's whiskers!" exclaimed Ginky. "We could go over to that house and look at it, couldn't we?"

After much argument, Ginky finally talked the Dunce into going to see the sugar. The mouse led the way to the house, and they climbed up onto the table where the big sugar bowl stood. It was easy to climb up one of the handles, and the Dunce and Ginky were soon staring down into the bowl, which was about one-third full of sugar.

"Jinks!" exclaimed the Dunce. "I wish I had a hatful."

"Jump in and get some," suggested Ginky with a wicked grin, "and I'll pull you out with my tail."

"No, you won't get me into that bowl said the Dunce.

"Oh, yes, I will," laughed Ginky, and he gave the Dunce a push and sent him tumbling headlong into the bowl. Fortunately, the Dunce was not hurt by the fall. But he was very angry at Ginky. "Hey, you bum! You get me out of here!" he yelled.

"Get your self out," sneered Ginky. With that he disappeared, leaving the Dunce a prisoner, for it was quite impossible to climb up the hard, smooth sides of the bowl.

The poor Dunce was a prisoner for hours before the Teenie Weenies found him. The Cowboy pulled him out with his tiny lasso, while Ginky snickered from a safe place.

"I'll get even with you!" shouted the Dunce when he saw Ginky leering at him from the top of a box that stood on the table.

The mouse only thumbed his nose and disappeared.

"There will be no need of getting even with Ginky if you keep away from him," said the General.

"Yes, sir," answered the Dunce, meekly.

Bottled Up - September 20th, 1942

Some weeks ago Ginky the mouse pushed the Dunce into a sugar bowl. The Dunce couldn't crawl up the smooth sides of the bowl, and he was there for some hours before the Teenie Weenies found him and pulled him out.

The Dunce was very angry with the mouse for that trick, and he watched for a chance to get even.

One day the Dunce and Gogo had gone to the dump, where the big folk throw away their trash, to look for anything that might be useful to the Teenie Weenies.

They discovered a pint vinegar bottle from which they removed the metal screw top, for the Chinaman was in need of a new wash tub, and bottle tops make excellent wash tubs and cooking pots.

While the two Teenie Weenies were removing the bottle top, the Dunce happened to see Ginky peering around a piece of broken dinner plate. The Dunce never let on that he had seen the mouse, but he began to think of some trick to play on Ginky. Suddenly an idea popped into his head and he whispered to Gogo.

"Y'all had bettah leave that mouse alone," Gogo whispered back. "We allers get into trouble when we're sociable with him! That mouse is a bad luck mouse if they evah was one!"

"Well, he can't go pushin' me into sugar bowls and get away with it," argued the Dunce.

The two Teenie Weenies dropped the top onto the ground and pretended to be interested in something inside the bottle.

The Dunce crawled into the neck of the bottle and, pulling a piece of peanut about the size of a garden pea from his pocket, he threw it into the empty bottle.

He then crawled out, dropped to the ground and, motioning Gogo to follow, the two little chaps pretended to wander off. But they really hid behind a tin can near by.

Presently, they heard Ginky, who is very curious, come from behind the broken plate and move toward the bottle. Then the Dunce saw the mouse climb up and crawl into the bottle.

"Come on!" he whispered to Gogo. "We'll put that top on the bottle before Ginky has a chance to get out."

The two Teenie Weenies dashed to the bottle and, before the mouse discovered them, they had the top half screwed on.

"There!" shouted the Dunce as he made a face at the frantic mouse. "Now you'll see how it feels to be a prisoner!"

The next morning, while the Teenie Weenies were at breakfast, the Dunce told how he had bottled up Ginky.

"Was the top screwed on tight?" asked the Doctor.

"Sure!" laughed the Dunce.

"Well, we'd better get there quick and remove that top," said the Doctor. "That poor mouse may be a goner!"

"Goner?" gasped the Dunce.

"Why, certainly," answered the Doctor. "Nothing can live without fresh air!" Snatching up his tiny medicine case, he started toward the dump on the run.

The mouse was unconscious, but he still breathed.

"Get him out of here!" ordered the Doctor.

Several men lifted the mouse up to the neck of the bottle, and then they pulled him out by his long tail.

The Doctor gave Ginky first aid treatment, and presently he opened his eyes.

He was quite weak, but soon he was able to walk, and he went off after giving the Dunce a nasty look.

The General saw that the Dunce was sorry for what he had thoughtlessly done. He felt, though, that the Dunce ought to have some slight punishment, so he ordered him to carry a lead pencil stub on his shoulder 15 times around the shoe house.

"Just to help you remember that it's a very unwise thing to try to get even with a foolish mouse," the General said.

The Dunce Leaves Home - May 14th, 1922

There was no use denying the fact — the Dunce was just as bad as he could be. It might have been the spring weather which caused all his naughtiness, but it is more likely it was caused by a letter the Teenie Weenies received.

A few weeks ago a little girl wrote to them and said she felt sorry for the Dunce. "I think I could help him to be a good boy, don't you?" she wrote. "If the Dunce would come and live with me I would make a good boy out of him. Please let him come."

After this letter had been opened and read by the Teenie Weenies, the Dunce was so stuck up there was no living with him. He got into all sorts of trouble. One morning he dropped the head of a match down the spout of the old tea pot which served the Chinaman as a chimney for his laundry, and when it landed in the fire it exploded, blowing the lids off the tiny stove, and scaring the poor Chinaman nearly out of a year's growth.

The Dunce ran away several times when he should have been helping with the work all Teenie Weenies have to do, and the General sent him bed once without a bite of supper, but it did not seem to do a bit of good.

"If you'd ask me," growled Grandpa one evening after the Dunce had put salt in his malted milk, "I'd say he needs a good tannin'. If I had my way I'd take him out in the woodshed and I'd get a good stout blade of grass and I'd give him a good lickin'."

"Why, grandfather!" exclaimed the Lady of Fashion, "the Dunce isn't a bad boy. He's just full of fun and he really doesn't mean to be naughty."

"Well, if you call puttin' salt in malted milk and stealin' half a thimbleful of fried cakes fun, then I haven't got a sense of humor," growled the old gentleman, glaring over the top of his tiny spectacles.

"He really didn't take half a thimbleful of fried cakes," said the Cook. "There was only about a dozen and a half in the thimble."

"Land sakes!" gasped Grandpa, looking shocked. "A dozen and a half! That's enough to make a strong man sick. Did he have the stomachache?"

"No," laughed the Cook. "I suppose he gave most of them away."

The very next morning the Dunce caught an ant and turned it loose in Box Hall, where the Guff sisters lived, scaring the four little women half out of their wits. Miss Guff reported the matter at once to the General, and the head of the Teenie Weenies had the Policeman bring the Dunce to the shoe house.

"Now, Dunce," said the General when the Dunce stood before him, "do you think you are behaving like a gentleman?"

"N-N-No, sir," answered the Dunce.

"Well, I don't think you are either, and I want you to understand we can't stand for this foolishness a bit longer, and unless you turn over a new leaf and behave yourself you are going to get into trouble."

"Well, if you all don't like the way I behave around here I'm goin' to go and live with that little girl who wrote and asked me to come and live with her," said the Dunce.

"I believe that would be a good thing to do," answered the General. "She said that she would make a good boy out of you, and I think you had better go."

"Ah-ah-all right!" exclaimed the Dunce. "I'll go and get a few of my things and leave right away."

The Dunce stamped out of the room, and, running upstairs, he soon gathered a few of his clothes into a bundle.

The news quickly spread around under the rose bush that the Dunce was leaving, and when the foolish fellow stepped out on to the front porch a number of the Teenie Weenies were gathered about the old shoe.

"Well, good-by, Dunce," called the General as the Dunce shuffled off. "When you feel that you can behave yourself you will be welcomed back home."

The Dunce never answered a word, but walked rapidly away, and tears gathered in the eyes of some of the little people, for, in spite of his foolishness, the Dunce was much loved by the Teenie Weenies.

The Poor Dunce Has A Hard Day's Tramp - May 21st, 1922

"I don't care," muttered the Dunce as he shuffled out from beneath the rose bush. "I won't stand bein' scolded all the time, so I'll just leave 'em and go and live with that nice little girl."

At the end of the garden he turned around and looked longingly at the edge of the shoehouse roof, which showed over the top of a little hill. Two great tears gathered in his eyes, but brushing them away the poor Dunce set off toward the big road.

The Dunce had never thought to put food in his package, and after he had tramped all morning he discovered he was frightfully hungry.

"Jinks!" he thought to himself, "I wish I had some of the Cook's good doughnuts." Presently he found a banana skin lying beside the road, which some big person had thrown away, and from the skin he was able to eat all he could hold.

Late in the afternoon the Dunce's feet began to ache and smart. He bathed them in a tiny stream of water, but still they hurt, and he wished many times for a ride.

"I might get a bird to carry me on its back," be said to himself.

A little farther on he saw a sparrow beside the road, and he asked the bird to give him a lift.

"I'll take you' a ways for twenty-five grains of wheat," said the bird, looking the Dunce over suspiciously.

"I-I haven't got a bit of wheat," answered the Dunce.

"What!" exclaimed the bird. "Do you expect me to carry you for nothing?" And giving the poor Dunce a nasty look, it flew away.

The Dunce limped on for several miles, and finally he spied three young fuzzy chickens beside the road.

"Chickens are always kind hearted," thought the Dunce. "I'll speak to them."

"I say," cried the Dunce as he walked up to the three chickens, who stood staring at him, "is there any place around here where I could get a bite to eat and a place to sleep tonight?"

Why, you'd better come in and talk to our mother," answered one of the chickens in a high, piping voice. "My ma, she knows everything. She'll tell you." The three chickens led the Dunce into a big yard where a small coop stood, and as they walked up to the coop an old hen popped her big head out between the slats.

"Pardon me, madam," said the Dunce, taking off his hat, for in spite of his foolishness the Dunce had proper manners; "I have just been asking your children whether I could get a bite to eat and a place to sleep tonight."

"Why, yes," cackled the hen, who was quite impressed with the Dunce's polite ways. "We'll be fed pretty soon, and you're welcome to all you can eat. I only have three children, and I'd be glad to take you in for the night. You can snuggle right down under my feathers and you'll keep just as warm as a pinfeather."

The Dunce thanked her politely for her kindness, and sat down to rest his tired feet while the hen talked to him.

Presently a woman came out of the big house near by and threw several handfuls of wheat and corn to the chickens. When she had gone, the Dunce, who bad hidden behind the coop when the woman appeared, came out and ate several grains of wheat, after they had soaked for some time in a can of water which stood near.

"Now, my dear," said the hen when their supper had been eaten, "it's growing dark and you can climb right up in my nest and spend the night."

Now, the Dunce had once spent the night in a duck's nest, and he had been nearly eaten up by insects, so he politely refused the hen's invitation. He soon found an empty bottle nearby into which he dragged his tired little body, and, using his bundle of clothes for a pillow, he soon fell into a deep sleep.

The poor Dunce would not have gone to sleep so easily had he known that two small, bright eyes had watched him crawl into the bottle.

The Dunce Falls Among Thieves – May 28th, 1922

When the Dunce awakened the next morning he was terribly stiff after his long walk of the day before, and he ached in every muscle as he climbed out of the bottle where he had spent the night.

"Good morning, my dear," cried the old hen, who with her three chickens was busy eating breakfast, which had been spread on the ground in front of the coop. "You are just in time for breakfast."

The Dunce quickly washed his face and hands in the pan of fresh water that stood in front of the coop. Picking up two large grains of wheat for his morning meal, the little chap made a tiny cup out of a plantain leaf, into which he put the grains of wheat and covered them with a few drops of water.

"You'd better gather up a few grains to take along with you," suggested the hen. "It always best to have food along when you are traveling. You never can tell when you might need it. You can't travel well on an empty craw."

"Thank you for the suggestion," answered the Dunce. "I might want to get a bird to carry me over a river or something, and birds always want pay for what they do." The Dunce picked up ten grains of wheat and put them into the bundle with his clothes.

"Now, remember this," warned the old hen while the Dunce wrapped up the bundle. "Don't let the birds see how much wheat you've got. Never show your wealth, for once they find out how much you have they won't be satisfied until they get it."

The two grains of wheat which had been soaking were now soft, so the Dunce sat down and ate one of them for his breakfast. Picking up his bundle and stick, the Dunce thanked the old hen for her kindness. "Well, I'd better be on my way," he said.

"You'll find a lot of grackles down the road a ways, and I want to say you had better give those birds a wide berth," cried the old hen. "They're the worst thieves in the world, and you had better not have anything to do with them."

The Dunce thanked her for her advice, and set off down the big road toward the town in which the little girl lived who bad invited him to come and live with her.

After he had walked for a while his tiny feet began to ache, and he wished he had not left the shoe house. Presently he saw several grackles near the road, and the little chap wished more and more that he was safe at home under the rose bush.

At noon the little traveler stopped at a small stream of water, where he found the top of a salve box. He filled it with water and, building a fire under it, he took a grain of wheat out of his bundle and put in on to boil. When the wheat was done the little chap fished it out, and when it had cooled he peeled off the outer skin and ate it eagerly to the last crumb. The tired little fellow felt sleepy after his lunch, so he decided to take a short nap, and, making himself comfortable in the shade of a bush nearby, he lay down beside a big stone to sleep.

The poor little chap did not sleep long, for he was soon awakened by a loud, rasping voice, and, opening his eyes, he was horrified to see two big evil looking grackles staring at him.

"How do you do?" said the Dunce, jumping to his feet and bowing politely.

The grackles seemed to be pleasant fellows, so the Dunce soon became quite friendly, and told them who he was and where he was going.

"You have a long ways to go," said one of the birds. "I'd be glad to carry you part way on my back for a few grains of wheat."

"I'll give you five grains if you will carry me five miles," said the Dunce.

"It's a bargain," answered the bird.

The Dunce quickly opened his bundle and counted out five grains of wheat.

"You've got some more there, haven't you?" asked one of the birds, staring at the bundle with his big yellow eye.

"Y-y-yes, s-s-sir, b-b-but I've got to save a little to eat myself," answered the startled Dunce.

"Well," said the bird, winking at his companion, "my friend here can't be left out, so if you want us to help you, you will have to give him a share, too."

There was nothing to do but put out the other four grains of wheat, for the Dunce was now greatly frightened, particularly as they were in a lonely place.

The two big birds quickly gobbled up the wheat, and then, winking at each other, they burst into a loud laugh and flew away.

"I-I-I've been r-r-r-robbed!" cried the Dunce, and leaning against a big stone, he burst into tears.

Not far away lay a big log, and around its edge a keen pair of eyes watched the weeping Dunce.

The Dunce Is Kidnapped – June 4th, 1922

For a long time the poor Dunce sat and cried over the loss, his wheat. "They're just lowdown thieves and robbers!" sobbed the Dunce. "Takin' all my food and not keepin' their promise. I-I-I wish I hadn't left home. I haven't had anything but hard luck since I left and I'm goin' back again."

The Dunce wrapped up the bundle of clothes out of which he had taken the wheat and, hanging it to a stick over his shoulder, he limped off in the direction of home. The poor fellow's feet were blistered and sore and he made very slow progress, for he had to stop and rest every little while.

Presently he noticed two large birds light on a bush near the road; and when he drew near he was quite alarmed, as he recognized the two Crackles who had robbed him. He quickly hid under a mullein leaf, but the birds saw him, and presently they flew to the road and walked up to his hiding place.

"I say," said one of the birds, peering under the mullein leaf with one big yellow eye, "we've been lookin' for you and we've come back to pay you for the wheat you gave us. Just come on out and climb on my back and I'll take you the five miles we promised to carry you for the wheat."

"I-I-I have decided to go back home, so I won't trouble you to give me a lift," answered the Dunce, for something told him not to trust the birds.

The birds looked knowingly at each other and, walking off a few feet, they whispered together for a few minutes.

"Well, come on out of there," growled one of the birds, and, reaching his big head under the leaf, he caught the frightened Dunce by the sleeve with his beak and pulled the poor fellow out.

Getting a good stout grip on the Dunce's collar, the two birds flew up into the air and carried the frightened Teenie Weenie to the top of a tree fully a mile away.

"Wh-wh-what's the i-i-idea?" gasped the scared Dunce when he had been set on a swaying limb high above the ground.

"Shut up!" snapped one of the birds. "You keep quiet or you'll get your head pecked off."

The poor Dunce clung to the limb, while the two birds talked for some minutes. From the conversation of the birds the Dunce soon found that he was being held for ransom.

"I'll fly over about the rose bush where these Tiny Winnies live and see how the ground lies," said one of the birds. "We ought to get five hundred grains of wheat for this fellow, so you watch him while I'm away." And the bird flew off.

For a long time the Dunce sat astride the limb looking for some means of escape, but there was absolutely no chance to get away, for one of the birds sat on the limb next to the tree trunk and there was not a single limb within reach. The bird napped in the warm sunshine, every now and then opening his big yellow eye to watch the Dunce, but presently the bird fell into a deep sleep.

After a time the Dunce was attracted by a slight noise over his head and, looking up, he was astonished to see the Teenie Weenie Indian crawling out on a limb overhead. The Indian motioned the Dunce to be quiet, and then quickly threw the end of a thread down to him. Very cautiously the Dunce caught the thread and quickly climbed to the limb above. Being good climbers, the two Teenie Weenies soon made their way down to the ground, where they lost little time in finding a place to hide.

"We hide here till night," grunted the Indian. "When night comes we start for home. Bird no see us in night; he sleep, we safe."

While the two Teenie Weenies lay in hiding the Indian told the astonished Dunce how he had followed him. "When you go away, General he told me to follow you and see you no get into trouble. Me follow right behind and when me see bird take you off me climb tree and get you."

When night same on the two little fellows crawled out of their hiding place and set off for home. They arrived at the shoe house late the next morning, where they were given a royal welcome by the Teenie Weenies.

"I'm home for good," announced the Dunce after he had eaten two slices of frog ham, two grains of boiled rice, and almost a dozen doughnuts. "I'm goin' to behave myself, and, what's more, no one could ever get me to leave home; no, sir, not for a whole chocolate drop would I ever leave the old shoe house again."