The next evening the little girl returned to the Noah's Ark, where she
found the little Marionette in the same position.
"Well!" she said eagerly.
"I have consulted Father Christmas," answered the little Marionette. "He
is of the opinion that I may, without harm, tell you tales of _some_ of
the toys. You shall therefore hear the most interesting stories I can
remember."
"That will be very nice," said the little girl. "Will you begin at
once?"
"At once," she agreed, and began the story of "The Rabbit and the
Mouse."
THE RABBIT & THE MOUSE
The white Rabbit and the brown Mouse were both talented, though in
different ways. The Rabbit's talent showed itself in the precision and
vigor with which he could beat a drum as he sat on his hind-legs; the
Mouse in the swiftness and grace with which he could speed to and fro
upon the counter.
Talking over the matter, they arrived at the conclusion that if they
went up and down the counter together as a traveling-show they might
turn a very pretty penny. The Rabbit was to display his musical talent,
whilst the Mouse was to exhibit his powers of graceful movement.
The profits were to be equally divided. Such, at least, was the
arrangement as _understood_; but it was not a _written_ agreement, which
was a great mistake.
The reason, however, that the two partners omitted to be more
business-like was this: the Rabbit trusted the Mouse, and the Mouse
hoped to cheat the Rabbit. Not that anything of the sort was openly
expressed, but each was quite well aware of his own view of the matter.
The two started off upon the most amiable terms, stopping at such places
as they thought most likely to prove profitable: in front of the dolls'
houses; before the race-courses; by the shops. Then the Rabbit would
announce loudly:
"I am a rare-bit from Wales, and the Mouse is a tit-bit from Ireland.
We charge no fees for performing, but trust to your kind generosity."
After this the Rabbit played the drum with great energy, whilst the
Mouse ran up and down in the most nimble manner.
It was probably owing to a report which got abroad, to the effect that
the performers were noble strangers, working in the cause of charity,
that the success of the pair was so great. It was, indeed, wonderful,
and in a short time the two had gained quite a little fortune.
It was the Mouse who collected the money. For purposes of his own, he
persuaded the Rabbit to let him always take upon himself this duty. And
his companion, who was rather stiff in the joints after sitting
perfectly still upon his hind-legs for the length of time he was obliged
to, was quite willing to let the Mouse do as he wished.
Not that he would have been willing to had he known the real facts of
the case. For as you will understand by what I have said, the Mouse was
acting towards him in the most dishonest fashion, in spite of his many
fair words and speeches.
It was in this way that he plotted against his friend: As soon as a
certain sum of money had been collected, the Mouse always suggested that
he should go and invest it. To this the Rabbit never made any objection,
having great faith in the Mouse as an animal with a good business head.
When the little rascal returned after a long absence, he had always a
fine story to tell of the cleverness with which he had laid out the
money, and of the fortune which would shortly be coming in. This was
perfectly untrue. The Mouse was not investing a penny. On the contrary,
he was hoarding it all up, and for his own benefit.
There was a certain Horse who lived some little way off in a luxurious
stable. Here the Mouse was minded to pass his last years, so soon as he
had made a sufficiently large fortune, or unless chance removed him from
the toy-shop. But in order to carry out his plan, he would have to pay
the Horse a large sum for the right of sharehold--since it was his stall
he wished to share,--and also to get the warm, cosy corner he especially
desired.
The Horse himself was not the noble creature nature had intended him to
be. He was to the full as greedy as the Mouse, and was indeed his
helper in the plot. It was to the Horse the little swindler always ran
when he pretended that he was going to invest the money, and it was in
his stall that it was hidden. By the end of the half-year the Horse and
the Mouse calculated that they would have sufficient money to carry out
their design; when they intended to add further to their wickedness by
causing the Rabbit to be killed, in order to prevent his asking any
tiresome questions.
Now, as the time drew near when the money, had it been invested, should
have brought in some returns, the Rabbit began to talk of what he
intended doing with _his_ share.
"I think," said he, "after I have supplied my own wants, I shall found a
drum-scholarship for Musical Rabbits;" for he was a creature of a kind
and generous nature, and truly devoted to the cause of art.
"A most excellent notion," said the Mouse. "I shall follow your good
example, and found a scholarship for the encouragement of harmonious
squeaking amongst Mice. One cannot do too much to encourage the love of
music amongst all classes."
"When will our first dividends be paid?" asked the Rabbit.
"The money ought to have been paid already," answered the little scamp,
"but business is very bad just at present. I would explain the matter to
you, but I doubt you would not understand all the details."
"Very good; I will not trouble you," answered his companion easily. "I
have perfect faith in your judgment, and will leave all to you."
Yet from time to time, as was natural, he still made inquiries, which
the Mouse began to find troublesome. He therefore consulted with his
wicked friend the Horse, and they resolved that, as the half-year was
approaching, and they had got sufficient money for what they wanted, it
was better to delay the carrying out of their plot no longer, but to
kill the Rabbit as soon as it could be managed--indeed that very day.
"To whom shall we intrust the deed?" asked the Horse. "There would be
too great a risk for either of us to undertake it, I fear. If we were
discovered there would at once be an end of all our plans. Our money
would be taken, and possibly our lives also."
The Mouse considered for a moment, then he said:
"I think I know the very fellow for the job. There is the Sentry who
always stands in his wooden box. He is a chap who will do anything to
vary the dulness of his life and earn a little money. He told me so the
other day. He is both brave and wicked. Let _him_ him do the deed."
"Very well," replied the Horse; "I think your idea is good. Will you
arrange the matter so that it be carried out without any mistake?"
"Leave it to me," replied the other. "You need not disturb yourself. The
days of the Rabbit are numbered."
"Good!" neighed the Horse; "and the quantity of my corn, oats,--besides
carrots, apples, and other luxuries,--will be _beyond_ number. We'll at
once open an account with the fruiterer and corn-dealer."
"Also the cheese-monger," said the Mouse. "Well, I must go; there is not
a moment to be lost if we wish to carry out our plan." Then he hurried
off to the Sentry.
"Sentry," said he, "are you prepared to run some risk for the sake of
money?"
"For the sake of money I'm prepared to do anything," said the wicked
fellow.
"Then listen," said the Mouse. "There is a sum of money that, strictly
speaking, ought to be divided between the Rabbit and myself. But the
best way appears to be that I should have it all. But that is a little
difficult so long as he is alive. So I come to you to ask you if you
will kill him, provided I fill your knapsack with gold."
"Upon that condition, yes," said the ruffian. "But don't attempt to
break it, or I shall put an end to you as well as your friend."
"Never fear. Rest assured you shall have it," said the Mouse.
"Now for the details of the plot," he continued. "I am going to propose
to the Rabbit a private performance in front of your sentry-box. I shall
say I have suggested it in order to vary the terrible dulness of your
existence. Having finished our performance I shall lead the way straight
forward, _with our backs towards you_. When we have gone a few steps I
shall remark loudly, 'That Sentry friend of ours is a smart chap; _he_
knows how to handle the bayonet'. This is to be the signal for you to
step quietly out of your box, and, pretending to stumble, stab the
Rabbit in the back with your bayonet. This should be quite easy, for he
is sure to be walking away on his hind-legs. He has fallen into that
habit since he has taken to playing the drum. You and I will, of course,
exhibit much grief, and declare that his death was an unfortunate
accident. You see the plan offers no difficulty."
"Then if the _plan_ offers no difficulty, _I_ won't," said the Sentry,
with a cold-blooded laugh. "When is it to be carried out?"
"This very day, in about two hours' time," replied the Mouse. "Well,
good-bye for the present, I think it is all very nicely arranged;" and
he nimbly scurried back to tell the Horse that the Rabbit was to be
killed by the Sentry; which he did with the utmost glee.
Perhaps, however, his glee would not have been so great had he known
that whilst he was giving his account of what had occurred to the Horse,
_his wicked plan was at the same time being told to the intended
victim_!
This is how such a strange thing happened.
Whilst the Mouse and the Sentry were talking, they had forgotten that
the Owl's usual position was just behind the sentry-box. Or, if they
thought of it at all, they gave no heed to the fact, being aware that
the Owl was accustomed to sleep during the whole of the day.
It so happened, however, that at the very moment the Mouse began his
conversation with the Sentry, the Owl awakened with a start from a bad
daymare, and all but hooted with fright. Growing calm as he became wider
awake, he was going off to sleep again,--when the name of the Rabbit
caught his ear. Being well acquainted with both him and the Mouse, whose
squeaking voice he recognized, the Owl listened to what was being said,
at first with drowsy then with startled attention.
He only waited until he had learned all the details of the vile plot,
and then, overcoming, in the cause of friendship, every desire to close
his heavy eyes, he stole away, and imparted his startling news to the
astonished Rabbit.
"_Impossible!_" exclaimed his hearer, letting his drum-stick fall with a
crash upon the instrument he had been industriously practising. "I would
as soon doubt my own honor as that of the little Mouse--my friend and
companion through weal and woe. _Impossible!_ You must have dreamt it,
or invented it."
"Don't be so hasty in your judgment," remarked the Owl. "I have neither
dreamt nor invented it. If you doubt me go without delay to the brown
Horse's stable, where you will find the Mouse at this present moment
talking with his wicked companion. I will wait here until you return, in
case I may be needed to help you in your difficulty."
"Many thanks," said the Rabbit, and leaving his drum in charge of the
Owl he hurried away.
But a short time passed, and then he returned with a look of horror and
dismay.
"All you have told me is but too true," he exclaimed. "Let me tender you
my most sincere apologies for having doubted your word. Unseen by my
faithless friend, I listened to his conversation with the Horse, and
overheard more than enough to convince me of the truth of your story.
"Yet who," he continued sorrowfully, "who could have believed it of that
little Mouse? Who would have imagined so great an amount of deceit dwelt
in so small a body?"
Then he recovered his spirit. "I will baulk him yet!" he exclaimed, his
pink eyes flashing, and his white fur bristling with excitement.
"How can I help you?" asked the Owl. "I will endeavor to keep awake as
long as I am wanted."
"Wait a moment," answered the Rabbit, and then he beat a tattoo
thoughtfully on his drum. "I think I have arrived at a conclusion," he
said presently. "I will meet their dastardly plot by a counter-plot. I
do not expect the Mouse back for another half-hour; he told me he should
be busy till half-past twelve putting away our recent earnings. This
will just give us time to do what I wish.
"Here is _my_ plot," he continued. "Having procured a bottle of gum we
will go to the sentry-box, at the back of which you will take up your
position. I will tell the Sentry you have been telling me a most comical
little dream you have had--the one, indeed, you told me of late. He is a
great fellow for good stories, and will certainly hurry off to hear it.
"Whilst he is away I will spread the bottom of the sentry-box with gum.
When, on his return, he steps into the box, I shall keep him still, and
give the gum time to take effect, by offering him a bet of a gold piece
that he will not stand perfectly motionless whilst I go home and back.
He is very fond of a bet, and is sure to accept it. Leaving you to see
that he acts fairly, I shall go and meet the Mouse, returning here for
the performance which is to be suggested.
"That, however, I shall cut short, having no desire to waste my talent
on a villain like the Sentry. I shall turn away with the Mouse, who, on
giving the signal agreed upon, will, to his amazement, find that it is
followed by no result. For by that time the Sentry will be gummed so
tightly to the floor of his sentry-box that he will not be able to move
an inch.
"Having enjoyed the sight of their confusion I shall punish them, biting
off the head of the Mouse--for whose deceit no punishment can be too
severe,--and beating the Sentry about the head until he can't see out of
his eyes. Nor shall the Horse escape my vengeance. I shall creep into
his stall, and suddenly, and with a precise aim, throw a piece of gold
at the pupils of his wicked eyes. Thus he will be totally blinded by the
gold he has wrongfully helped to keep. A most fit and proper
punishment."
"Your plans are well and thoughtfully worked out," said the Owl,
blinking his eyes.
"To business, then," remarked the Rabbit; and the two having first
procured the gum took their way to the sentry-box; the Rabbit strolling
thither on his hind-legs to avoid any appearance of alarm or haste, the
Owl hopping by his side with a certain grave and sleepy dignity.
Arrived at the sentry-box, the Owl placed himself behind it, whilst the
Rabbit, concealing the bottle of gum under his drum, went to the front
and bid the Sentry "good-day."
"Good-day," said the Sentry. "What are you grinning at?" For the Rabbit
was smiling from ear to ear.
"Nothing of much consequence," he replied. "Merely a most comical little
dream that the Owl--who happens for a wonder to be awake--has been
telling me. It made me die of laughter."
"Pass it on," said the Sentry.
"I shouldn't think of doing that," replied the Rabbit. "I don't approve
of telling people's own particular little stories; they prefer the fun
of relating them themselves. Look here, you go round for a moment or two
and get him to let you hear it before he drops asleep again. It is an
occasion to seize, for he is hardly ever awake when other people are,
and he tells a story better than anyone else I know."
"Well, I rather think I will," answered the Sentry. "I'm very fond of a
good story. You take my place whilst I'm away, there's a good fellow.
Here, put down your drum and take my bayonet."
"Very good," answered the Rabbit, and the Sentry hurried off.
The moment he had turned the corner the Rabbit set to work and spread
gum all over the floor of the sentry-box. Then, standing outside, he
took up the bayonet and mounted guard, first carefully hiding the
tell-tale bottle behind a box of bricks. By and by the Sentry returned.
"Well, it was not a very good story after all," he said rudely. "Thank
you for nothing. Why aren't you in the sentry-box? I am inclined to
bayonet you for breaking your word."
"I should not have been able to move about sufficiently," the Rabbit
answered. "I should have suffered from cramp."
"Stuff and nonsense!" the Sentry replied. "I stand in it for hours at a
time."
"But not without moving?" asked the Rabbit, with an air of disbelief.
"Without stirring an eighth of an inch," the Sentry said.
"I don't believe it," replied the Rabbit. "I challenge you to keep
perfectly still for any length of time. I bet you a gold piece you won't
stand motionless whilst I run home and back again."
"Done!" said the Sentry, and straightway stepped into his box.
"This sentry-box gets slimy and dirty," he said, without the least idea
of what the Rabbit had done. "It is quite sticky with dirt. It wouldn't
be a bad thing if you were to clean it out for me some day."
"I'll see," answered the other carelessly, fearing to be either too
polite or too rude lest he should arouse any suspicions in the Sentry's
mind. "I don't generally care to do other people's dirty work, but I may
do that some day when I am not busy. You serve your country, so you
deserve a little help."
"If you don't do it willingly, you shall do it unwillingly," he
blustered. "If _I_ serve my country, _you_ must serve me."
"There's plenty of time to think it over," answered the Rabbit. "In the
meanwhile, you can't stir even to have it cleaned or you lose your bet.
I'm off. But wait, I must call the Owl to be a witness that you keep
strictly to the terms we have agreed upon."
Then, having called the Owl and stated the terms of the bet, the Rabbit
went home.
Here he awaited the arrival of the Mouse, who presently returned, full
of pretended sympathy for the dulness of the Sentry's life.
"He told me to-day," said the little rascal, "that the dulness of his
life was killing him. It struck me that it would be really an act of
charity on our part to give him a little performance, and let him fully
understand we expect no money for it. I hinted at something of the sort
to him, and the poor fellow's face lighted up in a way that was quite
touching. Suppose we go his way now as we have a little spare time."
"I'm quite willing to," replied the Rabbit. "But I've just come from
him, and he never complained of dulness to me. In fact, he was in quite
good enough spirits to have a bet with me on the subject of his being
able to stand motionless for a certain time."
"Oh, he did that to try and kill care, no doubt," answered the Mouse. "I
know him well, though he is a reserved chap and opens out his heart to
few. Come on."
Now by the time the Rabbit and the Mouse returned to the sentry-box, the
gum had had time to get well dried, so that the Sentry was firmly fixed
in his box. Nevertheless, there was still the danger that he might
attempt to move, and so find out too soon the trick that had been played
upon him. To avert this, directly the Rabbit came back again he lost no
time in remarking to the Sentry:
"Yes, I acknowledge you have won the bet. But you have only just managed
to do so; you are looking quite tired out. Another five minutes or less,
and you would have been unable to stand still a moment longer."
"Double or quits!" cried the Sentry. "For another gold piece, I'll
engage to keep still for the time you mention. If I fail to do so, of
course you don't pay me anything."
"Agreed," said the Rabbit.
"Oh, friends," exclaimed the Mouse, shaking his head, "do not give way
to this habit! It is, indeed, a sad, bad one."
This he merely said to impress the Owl (on whom he had not counted as a
spectator) with a sense of his moral worth. He hoped by this means to
counteract any after suspicions that might arise in the good bird's
mind.
"As to that," said the Sentry, who was generally rude whether he was
addressing friend or foe, "it is my own concern whether I bet or not.
You had better not trouble yourself with my affairs, but if you really
mean to give me one of your performances you would do well to begin."
"Just as you will," the Mouse said. "But I can't help taking an
interest in the welfare of those with whom I have to do." Then
addressing the Rabbit: "Dear friend," he said smoothly, "will you open
with your famous _reverie_, 'Dreamings of a Drum,' whilst I perform my
_pas de quatre_, 'Twirlings of the Toes?'"
"Very good," agreed the Rabbit.
And the two performers began. But in a few moments the Rabbit stopped.
"I cannot continue," he said. "I am suffering from cramp in the muscles
of my drum-legs."
"Dear! What a pity!" exclaimed the Mouse. "Come for a walk and brace
yourself up."
"All right!" answered the Rabbit. "We'll go and fetch the gold pieces
which I must give this fellow."
"Can't you give me something at once?" asked the Sentry, who did not, in
his greed of gold, wish to lose the chance of getting all he could.
"I've nothing with me," replied the Rabbit. And so saying he followed
the Mouse, who with his back towards the Sentry had already moved away.
They had hardly gone more than half a dozen steps when the Mouse said
suddenly and loudly: "That Sentry friend of ours is a smart chap; _he_
knows how to handle the bayonet."
"You are right," answered the Rabbit, and walked on, the Mouse doing
the same, though with lagging steps.
Presently a look of anger and wonder crept into his eyes, remarking
which the Rabbit laughed.
"What are you laughing at?" asked the Mouse uneasily.
"At nothing particular," answered his companion. "Cheerfulness, you
know, is a habit of the mind."
At this moment a loud groan burst from the Sentry, who during this time
had been struggling to get free, and in a last frantic effort, had just
succeeded in giving a most painful rick to his back.
"Our Sentry friend does not look happy," said the Rabbit grimly.
"He is not well, I suppose," answered the Mouse nervously. "What has
happened, I wonder?"
"ALL IS DISCOVERED!" exclaimed the Rabbit loudly.
Then as the Mouse made a desperate effort to run away, the Rabbit dealt
him a blow on the back which injured the clockwork within his body and
quite put a stop to his flight.
"I know all!" the Rabbit said sternly. "You are a little villain! What
defence can you offer for so grossly deceiving me?"
But the Mouse made no reply. In a fury of disappointment and fear he was
biting the Rabbit's legs, hoping thus to disable him and prevent his
punishing the treachery that had been brought to light.
"Desist!" cried the Rabbit, "or I shall end your life without delay. I
repeat, what excuse can you offer for having so wickedly broken the
terms of our agreement? You have tried to rob me of my life and my
money. Make your defence."
"There was no written agreement," answered the Mouse shamelessly. "Each
was at liberty to understand it in his own way."
"Most wicked of animals, you are not fit to live," cried the Rabbit with
disgust. "Your moments are numbered."
Then before the Mouse could offer any protest, the Rabbit bit his head
right off and swallowed it.
"You will observe," said the Rabbit to the Owl with dignity, "that I
still maintain my proper position in the eyes of the world as a Welsh
rare-bit, but the Mouse, owing to his misdeeds, is now in the
contemptible state of the biter bit. Such is the end of the wicked.
"As for you," he continued to the Sentry, who, with his boastful spirit
crushed, stood trembling in the Sentry-box; "as for you, you have seen
too much of the world and its ways. It would be better for you to see a
little less of it for a time."
Then, according to his intention, the Rabbit beat the Sentry about the
head until he could not see out of his eyes.
"It now only remains to deal with the Horse. I go to give him the due
reward of his deeds," the Rabbit remarked, taking up his drum and
preparing to leave. But pausing a moment he added to the Owl: "With
regard to you, my good friend, if ever an opportunity arises by which I
can show you my gratitude for your kind services, rest assured that I
shall eagerly avail myself of it."
Now, the next morning the woman who keeps this shop spoke severely to
her own little girl.
"You have been touching the toys and damaging them," she said with
anger. "See what mischief you have done! You have knocked off the head
of this mouse--and, what is more, I can't find it anywhere,--you have
rubbed all the paint off this sentry's face, and you have broken the
glass eyes of this brown horse. You shall be punished."
The little girl began to whimper.
"I have not hurt the toys," she said. "I have never touched them since
you put me to bed for breaking the baby doll."
The woman looked puzzled: "If you say you haven't, you haven't, I
suppose," she said, "for I know you are a truthful child. Then how has
it happened? I shouldn't think any customer would do it without my
noticing. I can't understand it."
Nor can she to this day. But we can: you, the Rabbit, the Owl, the
Sentry, the Horse, and myself. But not the Mouse, for he has lost his
head.