MOTHER GRAYMOUSE KEEPS SCHOOL
Silver Ears was very angry and excited one morning when she returned
from a visit to the play-room. Her eyes were pink and swollen from
crying as she sat beside Squealer in the chimney corner.
"She is a hateful old Norah, Mammy," she burst out at last. "Ruth
Giant wants me to be her little pet mouse. I heard her tell Robert.
And she tossed me the nicest bit of cake I ever tasted. It was
frosted and stuffed with strawberry jam.
"Then that horrid old Norah Maid came in and shoo-ed me with her
broom. I hid under the doll's bed. You wouldn't believe the bad
things that freckly-faced Norah said. She told Ruth Giant that she
wasn't going to have nasty little mice around, running up her skirts,
not if she knew it. She stuck her snubby nose up in the air and said
it seemed as if the room smelled mousey. Then when I started to run
home, because I couldn't listen to such talk a minute longer, she
cried--'There he goes now, Miss Ruth! The nasty, thieving, little
beast! If there's a creature I can't abide, it's a mouse, to be
sure!'
"I'm not a nasty little beast, am I, Mammy? I have a nice warm bath
every Saturday night."
"Every Saturday night, the whole six of you," agreed Mother Graymouse
wagging her head proudly. "And what could a body ask more of a neat
mother mouse with a big family?"
"The Giants have a bath every morning," said Limpy-toes. "Granny
Whiskers says so, and of course Granny knows."
"A bath every morning!" cried Silver Ears. "Just think of that."
"Just imagine it!" drawled Buster.
"Well, they must be very dirty children," decided Mother Graymouse.
"A bath every morning! I'd be ashamed if my children could not keep
clean longer than that. Ruth Giant isn't a bit cleaner, sweeter, nor
daintier than my pretty Silver Ears, if I do say so, as shouldn't."
"I'm not a thief either, Mammy," sobbed Silver Ears.
"When that Maid Norah goes about killing flies by the dozens, does
she call herself a murderer?" demanded Mother Graymouse with
indignation. "When that old black Tom gobbles up an innocent mouse
for his supper, does she call him a murdering beast? Neither are we
thieves," went on Mother Graymouse hotly. "Even mice must live, and
unless we eat we will surely die. It is very ill-natured of the
Giants to begrudge us the few poor scraps that we are able to pick
up. But don't ever let me hear of your eating any cake again, Silver
Ears, even if it is stuffed with jam, without first showing it to
me," she finished in a severe tone.
"But, Mammy, I'm sure Ruth Giant would not give me cake that was not
fit to eat."
Then Mother Graymouse drew up the five little red-painted stools in a
row. She sat down before them in her rocking chair with little
squirming Squealer upon her knees. She gave him a stick of pink candy
to suck, so he would stop squealing while she talked.
"It is very painful," she began slowly, "but I see that I must teach
you some lessons this morning. Sit on your little stools and come to
order for school. Buster, you sit up straight and pay attention. Now
listen every one.
"E--n--e--m--y. Now spell it after me."
"E--n--e--m--y!" piped five shrill little voices.
"Who can tell me what an enemy is?"
Buster waved his paw wildly.
"Something good to eat, Mammy," he answered, smacking his fat little
chops.
"I fear, Buster, that I must make a dunce cap for you," said his
mother, trying hard not to smile.
"An enemy is a trap that pinches off toes," answered Limpy-toes.
"That cross old Norah is an enemy," decided Silver Ears. "But Ruth
Giant is not an enemy."
[Illustration: "That cross old Norah."]
"Maybe not; maybe not," returned Mother Graymouse. "But I mistrust
all the other Giants. So take care, my dears.
"An enemy is anything that will harm us. Traps are our enemies. Some
traps look like wire cages with a nice smelly bit of toasted cheese
inside. But the silly mouse who enters the cage will only be let out
when there is a cruel cat waiting outside to pounce upon him. There
are many kinds of traps, but they are all wicked enemies. So beware,
my dears.
"Cats are our enemies. You have all seen that cruel old Thomas Cat,
the black imp, with brass eyes that shine in the dark like automobile
lamps. His teeth are sharp and strong; his claws are like ugly
needles. Never take any chances when he is around, my dears.
"The Giants are our worst enemies. They set the traps to catch us;
they keep the cat to eat us. Often they try to poison us. That is the
reason, Silvy, why you must never eat Ruth Giant's cake until I have
seen it.
"Your poor Daddy ate a cracker one day, which was spread with salmon
and rat poison. It was the cause of his untimely death. 'Water,
water, water!' he moaned. Oh, I shall never forget how he suffered! I
helped him down to the pond and found a hole in the ice where he
could get water. But he grew worse as soon as he drank. Poor Daddy!
And so he died out there in the cold winter weather. Sniff! Sniff!
This has been a painful task, but you must remember every word I've
spoken this morning. Now for our review lesson."
"E--n--e--m--y, enemy," she spelled.
"E--n--e--m--y, enemy," chanted five obedient mice.
"T--r--a--p, trap," went on Mother Graymouse.
"T--r--a--p, trap," echoed her scholars.
"C--a--t, cat," she continued firmly.
"C--a--t, cat," shrilled all five.
"P--o--i--s--o--n, poison; that is the last word."
"P--o--i--s--o--n, poison," finished the tired little scholars with a
sigh.
"Very good," smiled Mother Graymouse. "Very good, indeed! School is
dismissed. You may run out and play."
Buster waved his paw high.
"Please, Mammy, I've made a new song. May I sing it now?"
"We shall all be delighted. Hush, hush, Squealer, while your clever
brother sings to us."
Buster folded his paws in his lap and sang very sweetly:
"Traps are our enemies,
Old Tom Cats, too;
Watch out for Norah's broom,
When she cries Shoo!
"Although the cheese smells nice,
Nibble it not;
Wise little mice you see,
Ne'er will be caught."
"Charming!" cried Mother Graymouse, and all the little Graymouse
children clapped their tiny paws.
"I think we will learn it for our bed-time song," decided Mother
Graymouse. "It will help you remember the lessons I have taught you
to-day."
[Illustration: _Buster folded his paws in his lap and sang very
sweetly_]