This year's sentimental mix of mice and Christmas deals with Gamey Joe, so called because he's born with a game leg, a little shorter than the other. But he is almost called ""Christmas Joe"" because he's born in the attic among the stored-away Christmas decorations and wrapped by his mother in cotton snow. ""When will it really be Christmas?"" he asks her later; and she answers, ""When mouse feet squeak on the frosty ground and snow drifts over the land and the brightest star of all shines in the sky."" Then when the attic mice are warned that the noise of their scampering may cause the people to send the cat up, Gamey Joe learns another definition of Christmas. The mice could quiet their tread with soft slippers, if they had the material to make them, and Gamey thinks of his cotton snow. He's reluctant to give it up, but does so after a tiny white mouse appears to him and whispers ""If you give, you will have, and it truly will be Christmas."" So he gives, and gives once more when he stops up a noisy roof leak with his precious tinsel. But that project results in a bad fall, an ailing Gamey . . . and his recovery when the other attic mice give him the Christmas he's been looking for. Running on the roof (""mouse feet squeaking on the frosty ground""), they drop fluffy bits of their cotton-snow slippers (""snow drifting over the land"") past his window. ""Yes, Gamey, yes,"" they chorus, ""It really is Christmas at last."" It's really pure treacle.