[Illustration: Old Bob was outside]
"I'm just Buddy Jim and I won't harm you--you must have heard of me--I
_live_ here in this house."
"Oh," cried both little voices in a relieved tone, "You don't know what
a load you have taken off our minds! Why of _course_ we have heard of
you. Mrs. Harvest Mouse says that you really saved the lives of her
whole family the day Red-Headed Woodpecker came to collect the rent.
But you see that was different. She was in her own house and we are in
yours, and for some reason we have never been able to find out, people
dislike to have us come in their houses."
"They set traps for us," said Little Sister Mouse, "and kill us--and we
are _no good_ to them--our fur is so soft that it is useless--and then
the _cats_! Why! we are in constant fear of _their_ dreadful claws!"
"Yes indeed," said Brother Mouse, "we never came in this house until
Old Dog Sandy came here to live and made Peter Prowler live under the
barn."
"In that case," said Buddy, "I can not imagine why you go into people's
houses. I would certainly not go where I was not welcome."
"Why, dear me," said Brother Mouse, "we're House Mice--we always live
in houses. _We_ don't know _why_, we just know it's _so_! and we're no
trouble to any one; we take only the tiniest crumbs of food, when Mary
the cook leaves us anything at all--she doesn't often--and the children
are so hungry and Mother hasn't a bit of anything in the nest to give
them." "And they're hungry," chimed in little Sister House Mouse.
"What would you like for their supper, and yours too?" asked Buddy,
"because I think I can get you something, and if you will _promise_
not to go into the kitchen again I will promise to leave your supper
wherever you say every evening this summer. _Will_ you promise?"
"_Will_ we?" choroused the little Mice, "we certainly _will_! Honest 'n
true 'n black and blue."
"Well, then," said Buddy, "just you wait right where you are--" and he
slipped out of bed and ran to the kitchen.
He was back in almost no time at all, with some bread and some bits of
cheese and a cookie, which he broke into bits and placed on the porch
floor, and then, just to show the little neighbors that he meant to
play fair, he hopped back into bed again.
It just did his kind little heart good to hear the delighted squeals
of the Little Neighbors when they found the food. He smiled to himself
as he heard them scamper away with as much as they could carry. It was
only a moment until they were back again, and this time they stayed to
eat their own supper.
"Mum, mum," said Sister Mouse with her mouth full of food, "Mary is a
wonderful cook!"
"Where do you live, Little Neighbors," asked Buddy, "so I shall know
where to leave your food every day."
"Up in the woodshed loft," said Brother Mouse. "We like it there,
because there is always moss and shavings to make warm nests of; and
sometimes Bob the gardener leaves an old coat there for us to chew up
and line our nests with. But we must go home now and let you go to
sleep, because you must be very sleepy."
"No indeed," said Buddy, "I'm really not sleepy at all, and I've
_loved_ to have you visit me!"
"We are so grateful to you," said Brother House Mouse, "and we both
wish we could do something for you. Would you care to hear us sing, so
long as you're not so very sleepy?"
Buddy laughed. "That _would_ be _lovely_," he said. "Just like little
Tommy Tucker, who sang for his supper. But _can_ you sing? Let's hear
you," he invited, eagerly.
There was a soft little scrambling sound, and then, in the moonlight,
Buddy saw on his bed rail two grey Little Neighbors. It was Brother
Mouse, holding Sister Mouse by the hand. They were _bowing_ and looking
for all the world like the two little concert singers that they were.
They made no excuses, they did not even say they were out of practice,
nor that they couldn't think what to sing, but began in the sweetest of
small voices to sing what sounded to Buddy like a little lullaby.
Buddy lay very still. He was delighted with the song, but he did not
dare to applaud, because he was afraid that his Little Neighbors would
not understand. Not being much used to singing to mortals, they might
be frightened at the noise.
But what do you think? Before he even knew that he was sleepy, and
while he was enjoying the concert, he went _fast_ asleep.
And the next thing he knew, Old Bob the gardener was outside, wanting
to know if he meant to stay in bed all day.
"Bob," said Buddy, "have you ever heard a House Mouse sing?" "No,
Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I never have, but I have talked
with folks who say _they_ have heard them."
"Well, Bob," insisted the little boy, "do you _believe_ they can sing?"
"Why, yes, Buddy," said Old Bob the gardener, "I believe everything
until I find out for certain that it isn't so. It's much the happiest
way, don't you think?"
"Your ways are all happy ways, Bob," said Buddy. "You're the best chum
_ever_!"
[Music]
[Illustration: "I didn't look behind me"]
[Illustration]