PART I.

Like all other newborn animals, whether of the human, or any other

species, I can not pretend to remember what passed during my infant

days. The first circumstance I can recollect was my mother’s addressing

me and my three brothers, who all lay in the same nest, in the following

words:-’I have, my children, with the greatest difficulty, and at the

utmost hazard of my life, provided for you all to the present moment;

but the period is arrived, when I can no longer pursue that method:

snares and traps are everywhere set for me, nor shall I, without

infinite danger, be able to procure sustenance to support my own

existence, much less can I find sufficient for you all; and, indeed,

with pleasure I behold it as no longer necessary, since you are of

age now to provide and shift for yourselves; and I doubt not but your

agility will enable you to procure a very comfortable livelihood. Only

let me give you this one caution--never (whatever the temptation may

be) appear often in the same place; if you do, however you may flatter

yourselves to the contrary, you will certainly at last be destroyed.’

So saying, she stroked us all with her fore paw as a token of her

affection, and then hurried away, to conceal from us the emotions of her

sorrow, at thus sending us into the wide world.

She was no sooner gone, than the thought of being our own directors so

charmed our little hearts, that we presently forgot our grief at parting

from our kind parent; and, impatient to use our liberty, we all set

forward in search of some food, or rather some adventure, as our mother

had left us victuals more than sufficient to supply the wants of that

day. With a great deal of difficulty, we clambered up a high wall on the

inside of a wainscot, till we reached the story above that we were

born in, where we found it much easier to run round within the

skirting-board, than to ascend any higher.

While we were there, our noses were delightfully regaled with the scent

of the most delicate food that we had ever smelt; we were anxious to

procure a taste of it likewise, and after running round and round the

room a great many times, we at last discovered a little crack, through

which we made our entrance. My brother Longtail led the way; I followed;

Softdown came next; but Brighteyes would not be prevailed upon to

venture. The apartment which we entered was spacious and elegant; at

least, differed so greatly from anything we had seen, that we imagined

it the finest place upon earth. It was covered all over with a carpet of

various colours, that not only concealed some bird-seeds which we came

to devour, but also for some time prevented our being discovered; as

we were of much the same hue with many of the flowers on the carpet.

At last a little girl, who was at work in the room, by the side of her

mamma, shrieked out as if violently hurt. Her mamma begged to know the

cause of her sudden alarm. Upon which she called out, ‘A mouse! a mouse!

I saw one under the chair!’ ‘And if you did, my dear,’ replied her

mother, ‘is that any reason for your behaving so ridiculously? If there

were twenty mice, what harm could they possibly do? You may easily hurt

and destroy then; but, poor little things! they cannot, if they would,

hurt you.’ ‘What, could they not bite me?’ inquired the child. ‘They

may, indeed, be able to do that; but you may be very sure that they have

no such inclination,’ rejoined the mother. ‘A mouse is one of the most

timorous things in the world; every noise alarms it: and though it

chiefly lives by plunder, it appears as if punished by its fears for the

mischiefs which it commits among our property. It is therefore highly

ridiculous to pretend to be alarmed at the sight of a creature that

would run from the sound of your voice, and wishes never to come near

you, lest, as you are far more able, you should also be disposed to

hurt it.’ ‘But I am sure, madam,’ replied the little girl, whose name I

afterwards heard was Nancy, ‘they do not always run away; for one day,

as Miss Betsy Kite was looking among some things which she had in her

box, a mouse jumped out and ran up her frock sleeve--she felt it quite

up on her arm.’ ‘And what became of it then?’ inquired the mother. ‘It

jumped down again,’ replied Nancy, ‘and got into a little hole in the

window-seat; and Betsy did not see it again.’ ‘Well, then, my dear,’

resumed the lady, ‘what harm did it do her? Is not that a convincing

proof of what I say, that you have no cause to be afraid of them, and

that it is very silly to be so? It is certainly foolish to be afraid of

any thing, unless it threatens us with immediate danger; but to pretend

to be so at a mouse, and such like inoffensive things, is a degree of

weakness that I can by no means suffer any of my children to indulge.’

‘May I then, madam,’ inquired the child, ‘be afraid of cows and horses,

and such great beasts as those?’ ‘Certainly not,’ answered her mother,

‘unless they are likely to hurt you. If a cow or an horse runs after

you, I would have you fear them so much as to get out of the way; but if

they are quietly walking or grazing in a field, then to fly from them,

as if you thought they would eat you instead of the grass, is most

absurd, and discovers great want of sense. I once knew a young lady,

who, I believe, thought it looked pretty to be terrified at everything,

and scream if dog or even a mouse looked at her: but most severely was

she punished for her folly, by several very disagreeable accidents she

by those means brought upon herself.

‘One day when she was drinking tea in a large company, on the door being

opened, a small Italian greyhound walked into the drawing-room. She

happened to be seated near the mistress of the dog, who was making tea:

the dog, therefore, walked toward her, in order to be by his favourite;

but, upon his advancing near her, she suddenly jumped up, without

considering what she was about, overturned the water-urn, the hot iron

of which rolling out, set fire to her clothes, which instantly blazed

up, being only muslin, and burnt her arms, face, and neck, most

dreadfully: she was so much hurt as to be obliged to be put immediately

to bed; nor did she recover enough to go abroad for many months. Now,

though every one was sorry for her sufferings, who could possibly help

blaming her for her ridiculous behaviour, as it was entirely owing to

her own folly that she was so hurt? When she was talked to upon the

subject, she pleaded for her excuse, that she was so frightened she did

not know what she did, nor whither she was going; but as she thought

that the dog was coming to her she could not help jumping up, to get out

of his way. Now what ridiculous arguing was this! Why could not she help

it? And if the dog had really been going to her, what harm would it have

done? Could she suppose that the lady whose house she was at, would have

suffered a beast to walk about the house loose, and go into company,

if he was apt to bite and hurt people? Or why should she think he would

more injure her, than those he had before passed by? But the real case

was, she did not think at all; if she had given herself time for that,

she could not have acted so ridiculously. Another time, when she was

walking, from the same want of reflection, she very nearly drowned

herself. She was passing over a bridge, the outside rails of which were

in some places broken down: while she was there, some cows, which a man

was driving, met her: immediately, without minding whither she went,

she shrieked out, and at the same time jumped on one side just where the

rail happened to be broken, and down she fell into the river; nor was

it without the greatest difficulty that she was taken out time enough

to save her life. However, she caught a violent cold and fever, and was

again, by her own foolish fears, confined to her bed for some weeks.

Another accident she once met with, which though not quite so bad as the

two former, yet might have been attended with fatal consequences. She

was sitting in a window, when a wasp happened to fly toward her; she

hastily drew back her head, and broke the pane of glass behind her, some

of which stuck in her neck. It bled prodigiously; but a surgeon happily

being present, made some application to it, which prevented its being

followed by any other ill effects than only a few days weakness,

occasioned by the loss of blood. Many other misfortunes of the like kind

she frequently experienced; but these which I have now related may serve

to convince you how extremely absurd it is for people to give way to

and indulge themselves in such groundless apprehensions, and, by being

afraid when there is no danger, subject themselves to real misfortunes

and most fatal accidents. And if being afraid of cows, dogs, and wasps

(all of which, if they please, can certainly hurt us) is so ridiculous,

what must be the folly of those people who are terrified at a little

silly mouse, which never was known to hurt anybody?’

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of some gentlemen

and ladies; and we having enjoyed a very fine repast under one of the

chairs during the time that the mother and daughter had held the above

discourse, on the chairs being removed for some of the visitors to sit

upon, we thought it best to retire: highly pleased with our meal,

and not less with the kind goodwill which the lady had, we thought,

expressed towards us. We related to our brother Brighteyes all that had

passed, and assured him he had no reason to apprehend any danger from

venturing himself with us. Accordingly he promised, if such was the

case, that the next time we went and found it safe, if we would return

back and call him, he would certainly accompany us. ‘In the mean time,

do pray, Nimble,’ said he, addressing himself to me, ‘come with me to

some other place, for I long to taste some more delicate food than our

mother has provided for us: besides, as perhaps it may be a long while

before we shall be strong enough to bring anything away with us, we had

better leave that, in case we should ever be prevented from going abroad

to seek for fresh supplies.’ ‘Very true,’ replied I; ‘what you say is

quite just and wise, therefore I will with all my heart attend you now,

and see what we can find.’ So saying, we began to climb; but not without

difficulty, for very frequently the bits of mortar which we stepped upon

gave way beneath our feet, and tumbled us down together with them lower

than when we first set off. However, as we were very light, we were not

much hurt by our falls; only indeed poor Brighteyes, by endeavouring to

save himself, caught by his nails on a rafter, and tore one of them from

off his right fore-foot, which was very sore and inconvenient. At

length we surmounted all difficulties, and, invited by a strong scent

of plum-cake, entered a closet, where we found a fine large one, quite

whole and entire. We immediately set about making our way into it, which

we easily effected, as it was most deliciously nice, and not at all hard

to our teeth.

Brighteyes, who had not before partaken of the bird-seed, was overjoyed

at the sight. He almost forgot the pain of his foot, and soon buried

himself withinside the cake; whilst I, who had pretty well satisfied

my hunger before, only ate a few of the crumbs, and then went to take a

survey of the adjoining apartment. I crept softly under the door of the

closet into a room, as large as that which I had before been in, though

not so elegantly furnished; for, instead of being covered with a carpet,

there was only a small one round the bed; and near the fire was a

cradle, with a cleanly-looking woman sitting by it, rocking it with her

foot, whilst at the same time she was combing the head of a little boy

about four years old. In the middle of the room stood a table, covered

with a great deal of litter; and in one corner was the little girl whom

I had before seen with her mamma, crying and sobbing as if her heart

would break. As I made not the least noise at my entrance, no one

observed me for some time; so creeping under one of the beds, I heard

the following discourse:--

‘It does not signify, miss,’ said the woman, who I found was the

children’s nurse, ‘I never will put up with such behaviour: you know

that I always do everything for you when you speak prettily; but to be

ordered to dress you in such a manner, is what I never will submit to:

and you shall go undressed all day before I will dress you, unless you

ask me as you ought to do.’ Nancy made no reply, but only continued

crying. ‘Aye! you may cry and sob as much as you please,’ said the

nurse; ‘I do not care for that: I shall not dress you for crying and

roaring, but for being good and speaking with civility.’ Just as she

said these words, the door opened, and in came the lady whom I before

saw, and whose name I afterwards found was Artless. As soon as she

entered, the nurse addressed her, saying, ‘Pray, madam, is it by

your desire that Miss Nancy behaves so rudely, and bids me dress her

directly, and change the buckles in her shoes, or else she will slap my

face? Indeed she did give me a slap upon my hand; so I told her, that I

would not dress her at all; for really, madam, I thought you would

not wish me to do it, whilst she behaved so; and I took the liberty

of putting her to stand in the corner.’ ‘I do not think,’ replied Mrs.

Artless, ‘that she deserves to stand in the room at all, or in the house

either, if she behaves in that manner: if she does not speak civilly

when she wants to be assisted, let her go without help, and see what

will become of her then. I am quite ashamed of you, Nancy! I could not

have thought you would behave so; but since you have, I promise that you

shall not be dressed today, or have any assistance given you, unless you

speak in a very different manner.’

Whilst Mrs. Artless was talking, nurse went out of the room. Mrs.

Artless then took her seat by the cradle, and looking into it, found

the child awake, and I saw her take out a fine little girl, about five

months old: she then continued her discourse, saying, ‘Look here, Nancy,

look at this little baby, see how unable it is to help itself; were

we to neglect attending to it, what do you think would become of it?

Suppose I were now to put your sister upon the floor, and there leave

her, tell me what do you think she could do, or what would become

of her?’ Nancy sobbed out, that she would die. ‘And pray, my dear,’

continued Mrs. Artless, ‘if we were to leave you to yourself, what would

become of you? It is true, you talk and run about better than Polly: but

not a bit better could you provide for, or take care of yourself. Could

you buy or dress your own victuals? could you light your own fire? could

you clean your own house, or open and shut the doors and windows? could

you make your own clothes, or even put them on without some assistance,

when made? And who do you think will do anything for you, if you are

not good, and do not speak civilly? Not I, I promise you, neither shall

nurse, nor any of the servants; for though I pay them wages to help to

do my business for me, I never want them to do anything unless they are

desired in a pretty manner. Should you like, if when I want you to

pick up my scissors, or do any little job, I were to say, “Pick up my

scissors this moment, or I will slap your face?” Should not you think

that it sounded very cross and disagreeable?’ ‘Yes, madam,’ replied

Nancy. ‘Then why,’ rejoined Mrs. Artless, ‘should you speak cross to

anybody, particularly to servants and poor people? for to behave so to

them, is not only cross, but insolent and proud: it is as if you thought

that because they are rather poorer, they are not so good as yourself,

whereas, I assure you, poverty makes no difference in the merit of

people; for those only are deserving of respect who are truly good; and

a beggar who is virtuous, is far better than a prince who is wicked.’ I

was prevented from hearing any more of this very just discourse, by the

little boy’s opening the door and letting in a cat; which, though it was

the first that I had ever seen in my life, I was certain was the same

destructive animal to our race, which I had frequently heard my mother

describe. I therefore made all possible haste back to the closet, and

warning Brighteyes of our danger, we instantly returned by the same way

which we came, to our two brothers, whom we found waiting for us, and

wondering at our long absence. We related to them the dainty cheer which

we had met with, and agreed to conduct them thither in the evening.

Accordingly, as soon as it grew towards dusk, we climbed up the wall,

and all four together attacked the plum-cake, which no one had touched

since we left it; but scarcely had we all seated ourselves round it,

than on a sudden the closet-door opened, and a woman entered. Away we

all scampered as fast as possible, but poor Brighteyes, who could not

move quite so fast on account of his sore toe, and who likewise having

advanced farther into the cake, was discovered before he could reach

the crack by which we entered. The woman, who had a knife in her hand,

struck at him with it, at the same time exclaiming, ‘Bless me, nurse,

here is a mouse in the closet!’ Happily, she missed her aim, and he only

received a small wound on the tip of his tail. This interruption sadly

alarmed us, and it was above an hour before we could have courage to

venture back, when finding everything quiet, except Mrs. Nurse’s singing

to her child, we again crept out, and once more surrounded the cake. We

continued without any further alarm till we were perfectly satisfied,

and then retired to a little distance behind the wainscot, determined

there to sleep, and to breakfast on the cake the next day.

Early in the morning I waked, and calling my brothers, we all marched

forward, and soon arrived at the delightful cake, where we highly

enjoyed ourselves without the least disturbance, till our appetites were

fully satisfied. We then retired, took a little run round some other

parts of the house, but met with nothing worth relating. At noon we

again made our way into the closet, intending to dine on the dish on

which we breakfasted; but, to our no small mortification, the delicious

dainty was removed. This you may be sure was a sad disappointment; yet

as we were not extremely hungry, we had time to look about for more. We

were not long in finding it; for upon the same shelf from which the cake

was removed, there was a round tin box, the lid of which was not quite

close shut down; into this we all crept, and were highly regaled with

some nice lumps of sugar. But it would be endless to enumerate all the

various repasts which we met with in this closet, sometimes terrified

by the entrance of people, and sometimes comfortably enjoying ourselves

without alarm: it is sufficient to inform you, that, unmindful of our

mother’s advice, we continued to live upon the contents of the same

cupboard for above a week; when, one evening, as we were as usual

hastening to find our suppers, Softdown, who happened to be first, ran

eagerly to a piece of cheese, which he saw hanging before him. ‘Come

along,’ said he, ‘here is some nice cheese, it smells most delightfully

good!’ Just as he spoke these words, before any of us came up to him, a

little wooden door on a sudden dropped down, and hid him and the cheese

from our sight.

It is impossible to describe our consternation and surprise upon this

occasion, which was greatly increased when we advanced near the place,

at seeing him (through some little wire bars) confined in a small box,

without any visible way for him to get out, and hearing him in the most

moving accents beg us to assist him in procuring his liberty. We all

ran round and round his place of confinement several times; but not the

least crack or opening could we discover, except through the bars, which

being of iron, it was impossible for us to break or bend. At length we

determined to try to gnaw through the wood-work close at the edge, which

being already some little distance from one of the bars, we hoped, by

making the opening a little wider, he would escape: accordingly we all

began, he on the inside, and we all on the out, and by our diligence had

made some very considerable progress, when we were interrupted by the

entrance of Mrs. Nurse with the child in her arms.

Upon the sight of her, though much grieved to leave our brother in his

distress, yet fearing instant death would be the fate of all of us if we

stayed, to preserve our own existence, we retired as quick as possible,

but not without her seeing some of us, for we heard her say to herself,

or to the babe in her arms, ‘I declare, this closet swarms with mice,

they spoil everything one puts here.’ Then taking up the box in which

was poor Softdown (and which I afterwards learned was called a trap) she

carried it into the room. I crept softly after her, to see what would

be the fate of my beloved brother. But what words can express my horror,

when I saw her holding it in one hand close to the candle, whilst in the

other she held the child, singing to her with the utmost composure, and

bidding her to look at the mousy! mousy!

What were the actions or sensations of poor Softdown at that dreadful

moment I know not: but my own anguish, which it is impossible to

describe, was still augmented every moment by seeing her shake the trap

almost topsy-turvy, then blow through the trap at one end, at which

times I saw the dear creature’s tail come out between the wires on the

contrary side, as he was striving, I suppose, to retreat from her. At

length, after she had thus tortured him for some time, she set the trap

on the table, so close to a large fire, that I am sure he must have been

much incommoded by the heat, and began to undress her child.

Then hearing somebody go by the door, she cried out, ‘Who is there?

is it you, Betty? if it is, I wish you would come and take down the

mouse-trap, for I have caught a mouse.’ Betty instantly obeyed her

call, and desired to know what she wanted. ‘I want you to take down the

mouse-trap,’ she replied, ‘for I cannot leave the child. I am glad that

I have got it, I am sure, for the closet swarms so, there is no such

thing as bearing it. They devour everything: I declare they have eaten

up a whole pound of sugar, which cost me elevenpence, sugar is now so

monstrously dear! indeed the man made a favour to let me have it for

that; only, he said, as our family were good customers, and I was but a

servant, he would take no more. And enough too I thought it was, to have

only a penny back in change out of a whole shilling for one pound of

sugar: and then to think of the poison mice to have it all; but I will

break their filthy necks. Do, Betty, pray take the trap down, and return

with it as soon as you can, and I will set it again: for I dare say I

shall catch another before I go to bed, for I heard some more rustling

among the things.’ ‘O lauk!’ replied Betty, ‘you do not think that I

will take down the trap, do you? I would not touch it for twenty pounds.

I am always frightened, and ready to die at the sight of a mouse. Once,

when I was a girl, I had one thrown in my face, and ever since I have

always been scared out of my wits at them; and if ever I see one running

loose, as I did one night in the closet below stairs, where the candles

are kept, I scream as if I was being killed.’ ‘Why then,’ answered

Nurse, ‘I think you behave like a great fool, for what harm could a

mouse do to you?’ ‘O la! I hate them,’ returned she, and then ran away

without the trap. Greatly was I rejoiced at her departure, as I hoped

that, by some means, Softdown might still be able to make his escape.

But, alas! no such good fortune attended him. Some person again passing

the door, Nurse once more called out, ‘Who is there? John is it you?’

‘Yes,’ replied a man’s voice. ‘Then do you step in, will you, for a

moment?’ rejoined Mrs. Nurse: and instantly entered a man whom I had

never before seen. ‘What do you want, Nurse?’ said he. ‘I only want to

get rid of a mouse,’ returned she; ‘and, do you know, Betty is such

a fool that she is afraid of taking it, and I want the trap to set it

again, for they swarm here like bees in a hive, one can have no peace

for them: they devour and spoil every thing; I say sometimes that I

believe they will eat me up at last.’ While she was saying this, John

took the trap in his hand, held it up once more to the candle, then

taking a piece of thread out of a paper, that lay bound round with a

dirty blue ribbon upon the table, he shook the trap about till he got my

brother’s tail through the wires, when catching hold of it, he tied the

thread tight round it and dragged him by it to the door of the trap,

which he opened, and took him out, suspending the weight of his body

upon his tail.

Softdown, who till the thread was tied had patiently continued perfectly

quiet, could no longer support the pain without dismal cries and

anguish: he squeaked as loud as his little throat would let him,

exerting at the same time the utmost of his strength to disengage

himself. But in such a position, with his head downward, in vain were

all his efforts to procure relief; and the barbarous monster who held

him discovered not the smallest emotions of pity for his sufferings. Oh!

how at that moment did I abhor my own existence, and wish that I could

be endowed with size and strength sufficient, at once both to rescue

him, and severely punish his tormentors. But my wish was ineffectual,

and I had the inexpressible affliction of seeing the inhuman wretch

hold him down upon the hearth, whilst, without remorse, he crushed him

beneath his foot, and then carelessly kicked him into the ashes, saying,

‘There! The cat will smell it out when she comes up.’ My very blood runs

cold within me at the recollection of seeing Softdown’s as it spurted

from beneath the monster’s foot; whilst the crunch of his bones

almost petrified me with horror. At length, however, recollecting the

impossibility of restoring my beloved brother to life, and the danger

of my own situation, I, with trembling feet and palpitating heart, crept

softly back to my remaining two brothers, who were impatiently expecting

me behind the closet. There I related to them the horrid scene which

had passed before my eyes, whilst the anguish it caused in their gentle

bosoms far exceeds my power to describe.

After having mingled our lamentations for some time, I thus addressed

them: ‘We have this night, my brothers, tasted the severest affliction

in the cruel death of our dear brother, companion, and friend; let

us not, however, only mourn his loss, but also gather wisdom from our

misfortune, and return to that duty which we have hitherto neglected.

Recollect, my dear friends, what were the last words which our good

mother spoke to us at parting. She charged us, upon no account, for no

temptation whatever, to return frequently to the same place: if we did,

she forewarned us that death and ruin would certainly await us. But in

what manner have we obeyed this her kind advice? We have not even so

much as once recollected it since she left us; or, if we thought of it

for a moment, we foolishly despised it as unnecessary. Now, therefore,

we sincerely feel the consequence of our disobedience; and, though

our sufferings are most distressing, yet we must confess that we amply

deserve them. Let us therefore, my brothers, instantly fly from a place

which has already cost us the life of our beloved Softdown, lest we

should all likewise fall a sacrifice to our disobedience.’--And here the

writer cannot help observing how just were the reflections of the mouse

on the crime which they had been guilty of; and begs every reader

will be careful to remember the fatal consequences that attended their

disobedience of their mother’s advice, since they may be assured that

equal if not the same misfortune will always attend those who refuse

to pay attention to the advice of their parents. But, to return to the

history.

To this proposal (continued the mouse) my brothers readily agreed; and

we directly descended to the place we were in when we discovered the

crack that led us to the room in which we feasted on bird-seed. Here

we determined to wait, and when the family were all quiet in bed, to

go forth in search of provision, as we began to be rather hungry, not

having eaten anything a long while. Accordingly we stayed till after the

clock struck twelve, when peeping out, we saw that the room was empty:

we then ventured forth, and found several seeds, though not enough to

afford a very ample meal for three of us.

After we had cleared the room, we again returned to our hiding-place,

where we continued till after the family had finished their breakfast.

They all then went to take a walk in the garden, and we stepped out to

pick up the crumbs which had fallen from the table. Whilst we were thus

employed, at a distance from our place of retreat, we were alarmed by

the entrance of two boys, who appeared to be about twelve or thirteen

years of age. We directly ran towards the crack; but alas! we were not

quick enough to escape their observation; for, seeing us, they both at

once exclaimed, ‘Some mice! some mice!’ and at the same time took off

their hats, and threw at us. Longtail happily eluded the blow, and

safely got home, but poor Brighteyes and myself were less fortunate;

and though we for a considerable time, by our quickness, prevented their

catching us, at length, being much disabled by a blow that one of them

gave me with a book which he threw at me, I was unable any longer to

run, and hobbling very slowly across the room, he picked me up. At the

same moment Brighteyes was so entangled in a handkerchief which the

other boy tossed over him, that he likewise was taken prisoner. Our

little hearts now beat quick with fear of those tortures we expected to

receive; nor were our apprehensions lessened by hearing the boys consult

what they should do with us, ‘I,’ said one, ‘will throw mine into the

pond, and see how he will swim out again.’ ‘And I,’ said the other,

‘will keep mine and tame it.’ ‘But where will you keep it?’ inquired his

companion. ‘Oh,’ replied he, ‘I will keep it under a little pan till

I can get a house made for it.’ He then, holding me by the skin at the

back of my neck, ran with me into the kitchen to fetch a pan. Here I was

not only threatened with death by three or four of the servants, who all

blamed Master Peter for keeping me; but likewise two or three cats came

round him, rubbing themselves backward and forward against his legs, and

then standing upon their hind feet to endeavour to make themselves high

enough to reach me. At last, taking a pan in his hand, he returned to

his brother with one of the cats following him. Immediately upon our

entrance, the boy exclaimed, ‘Oh, now I know what I will do: I will tie

a piece of string to its tail, and teach the cat to jump for it.’ No

sooner did this thought present itself than it was put into practice,

and I again was obliged to sustain the shocking sight of a brother put

to the torture. I, in the mean time, was placed upon the table, with a

pan put over me, in which there was a crack, so that I could see as well

as hear all that passed: and from this place it was that I beheld my

beloved Brighteyes suspended at one end of a string by his tail; one

while swinging backward and forward, at another pulled up and down, then

suffered to feel his feet on the ground, and again suddenly snatched up

as the cat advanced, then twisted round and round as fast as possible

at the full length of the string: in short, it is impossible to describe

all his sufferings of body, or my anguish of mind. At length a most

dreadful conclusion was put to them, by the entrance of a gentleman

booted and spurred, with a whip in his hand. ‘What in the world,

Charles!’ said he, as he came in, ‘are you about? What have you got

there?’ ‘Only a mouse, sir,’ replied the boy. ‘He is teaching the cat to

jump, sir,’ said Peter, ‘that is all.’

Brighteyes then gave a fresh squeak from the violence of his pain. The

gentleman then turning hastily round, exclaimed eagerly, ‘What, is it

alive?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said the boy. ‘And how can you, you wicked, naughty,

cruel boy,’ replied the gentleman, ‘take delight in thus torturing a

little creature that never did you any injury? Put it down this moment,’

said he, at the same time giving him a severe stroke with his horse-whip

across that hand by which he held my brother. ‘Let it go directly,’ and

again repeated the blow: the boy let go the string, and Brighteyes fell

to the ground; and was instantly snapped up by the cat, who growling,

ran away with him in her mouth, and, I suppose, put a conclusion to his

miseries and life together, as I never from that moment have heard any

account of him.

As soon as he was thus taken out of the room, the gentleman sat down,

and, taking hold of his son’s hand, thus addressed him: ‘Charles, I had

a much better opinion of you, than to suppose you were capable of so

much cruelty. What right, I desire to know, have you to torment any

living creature? If it is only be cause you are larger, and so have it

in your power, I beg you will consider, how you would like, that either

myself, or some great giant, as much larger than you as you are bigger

than the mouse, should hurt and torment you? And I promise you, the

smallest creature can feel as acutely as you, nay, the smaller they are,

the more susceptible are they of pain, and the sooner they are hurt: a

less touch will kill a fly than a man, consequently a less wound will

cause it pain; and the mouse which you have now been swinging by the

tail over the cat’s mouth, has not, you may assure yourself, suffered

less torment or fright than you would have done, had you been suspended

by your leg, either over water, which would drown you, or over stones,

where if you fell you must certainly be dashed to pieces. And yet you

could take delight in thus torturing and distressing a poor inoffensive

animal. Fie upon it, Charles! fie upon it! I thought you had been a

better boy, and not such a cruel, naughty, wicked fellow.’ ‘Wicked!’

repeated the boy, ‘I do not think that I have been at all wicked.’ ‘But

I think you have been extremely so,’ replied his father; ‘every action

that is cruel, and gives pain to any living creature, is wicked, and

is a sure sign of a bad heart. I never knew a man, who was cruel to

animals, kind and compassionate towards his fellow-creatures: he might

not perhaps treat them in the same shocking manner, because the laws of

the land would severely punish him if he did; but if he is restrained

from bad actions by no higher motive than fear of present punishment,

his goodness cannot be very great. A good man, Charles, always takes

delight in conferring happiness on all around him; nor would he offer

the smallest injury to the meanest insect that was capable of feeling.

‘I am sure,’ said the boy, ‘I have often seen you kill wasps, and

spiders too; and it was but last week that you bought a mouse-trap

yourself to catch mice in, although you are so angry now with me.’ ‘And

pray,’ resumed his father, ‘did you ever see me torment as well as kill

them? Or did I ever keep them in pain one moment longer than necessary?

I am not condemning people for killing vermin and animals, provided

they do it expeditiously, and put them to death with as little pain as

possible; but it is putting them to needless torment and misery that

I say is wicked. Had you destroyed the mouse with one blow, or rather

given it to somebody else to destroy it (for I should not think a

tender-hearted boy would delight in such operations himself), I would

not have condemned you; but, to keep it hanging the whole weight of

its body upon its tail, to swing it about, and, by that, to hold it

terrifying over the cat’s jaws, and to take pleasure in hearing it

squeak, and seeing it struggle for liberty, is such unmanly, such

detestable cruelty, as calls for my utmost indignation and abhorrence.

But, since you think pain so very trifling an evil, try. Charles, how

you like that,’ said he, giving him at the same time some severe strokes

with his horsewhip. The boy then cried, and called out, ‘I do not like

it at all, I do not like it at all.’ ‘Neither did the mouse,’ replied

his father, ‘like at all to be tied to a string, and swung about by

his tail: he did not like it, and told you so in a language which you

perfectly well understood; but you would not attend to his cries; you

thought it pleasure to hear it squeak, because you were bigger, and did

not feel its torture. I am now bigger than you and do not feel your

pain. I therefore shall not yet leave off; as I hope it will teach you

not to torment anything another time.’ Just as he said these words, the

boy, endeavouring to avoid the whip, ran against the table on which I

was placed, and happily threw down the pan that confined me. I instantly

seized the opportunity, jumped down, and once more escaped to the little

hole by which I first entered. There I found my only brother waiting

for me, and was again under the dreadful necessity of paining his tender

heart with the recital of the sufferings which I had been witness to in

our dear Brighteyes, as well as the imminent danger I myself had been

exposed to. ‘And, surely,’ said I, ‘we have again drawn this evil upon

ourselves by our disobedience to our mother’s advice; she, doubtless,

intended that we should not continue in the same house long together;

whereas from the day of her leaving us, we have never been in any other

but this, which has occasioned us such heavy affliction. Therefore, upon

no account, let us continue another night under this roof; but, as

soon as the evening begins to grow dark enough to conceal us from the

observation of any one, we will set off, and seek a lodging in some

other place; and should any misfortune befall us on our passage, we

shall at least have the consolation of thinking that we were doing

our duty by following the advice of our parent.’ ‘It is true,’ said my

brother, ‘we have been greatly to blame; for the future we will be

more careful of our conduct; but do, my dear Nimble,’ continued he,

‘endeavour to compose yourself, and take a little rest, after the pain

and fatigue which you have gone through, otherwise you may be sick; and

what will become of me, if any mischief should befall you? I shall then

have no brother to converse with, no friend to advise me what to do.’

Here he stopped, overpowered with his grief for the loss of our two

murdered brothers, and with his tender solicitude for my welfare. I

endeavoured all in my power to comfort him, and said I hoped that I

should soon recover from the bruises I had received both from the boy’s

hat and book, as well as the pinches in my neck with his finger and

thumb, by which he held me, and promised to compose myself. This promise

I fulfilled by endeavouring to sleep; but the scene that I had so lately

been witness to was too fresh in my imagination to suffer me to close my

eyes: however, I kept for some time quiet.

The rest of the day we spent in almost total silence, having no spirits

for conversation, our hearts being almost broken with anguish. When

it grew toward evening, we agreed to find our way out of that detested

house, and seek for some other habitation, which might be more

propitious. But we found more difficulty in this undertaking than we

were at all aware of; for though we could with tolerable ease go from

room to room within the house, still, when we attempted to quit it, we

found it every way surrounded with so thick a brick wall, that it was

impossible for us to make our way through it: we therefore ran round and

round it several times, searching for some little crevice through which

we might escape; but all to no purpose, not the least crack could we

discover: and we might have continued there till this time, had we not

at length, after the family were in bed, resolved to venture through one

of the apartments into the hall, and so creep out under the house door.

But the dangers we exposed ourselves to in this expedition were many

and great; we knew that traps were set for us about the house, and where

they might chance to be placed we could not tell. I had likewise been

eye-witness to no less than four cats, who might, for ought we knew to

the contrary, at that hour of darkness, be prowling in search of some of

our unhappy species.

But, in spite of every difficulty and hazard, we determined to venture

rather than continue in opposition to our mother’s commands; and, to

reward our obedience, we escaped with trembling hearts, unobserved,

at least unmolested, by any one. And now, for the first time since our

birth, we found ourselves exposed to the inclemency of the weather. The

night was very dark and tempestuous; the rain poured down in torrents;

and the wind blew so exceedingly high, that, low upon the ground as

we were, it was with difficulty that we could keep our legs: added to

which, even step we took, we were in water up to our stomachs. In this

wretched condition we knew not which way to turn ourselves, or where to

seek for shelter. The spattering of the rain, the howling of the wind,

together with the rattling and shaking of the trees, all contributed to

make such a noise as rendered it impossible for us to hear whether any

danger was approaching us or not.

In this truly melancholy situation we waded on for a considerable

time, till at length we reached a small house, and very easily gained

admittance through a pretty large hole on one side of the door. Most

heartily did we rejoice at finding ourselves once more under shelter

from the cold and rain, and for some time only busied ourselves in

drying our hair, which was as thoroughly wet as if we had been served as

the boy threatened my brother Brighteyes, and we had really been

drawn through a pond. After we had done this, and had a little rested

ourselves, we began to look about in search of food, but we could find

nothing except a few crumbs of bread and cheese in a man’s coat pocket,

and a piece of tallow-candle stuck on the top of a tinder-box. This,

however, though not such delicate eating as we had been used to, yet

served to satisfy our present hunger; and we had just finished the

candle when we were greatly alarmed by the sight of a human hand (for we

mice can see a little in the dark) feeling about the very chair on which

we stood. We jumped down in an instant, and hid ourselves in a little

hole behind a black trunk that stood in one corner of the room.

We then heard very distinctly a man say, ‘Betty, did you not put the

candle by the bedside?’ ‘Yes, that I am very sure I did,’ replied a

female voice. ‘I thought so,’ answered the man; ‘but I am sure it is not

here now. Tom! Tom! Tom!’ continued he. ‘What, father?’ replied a boy,

starting up, ‘what is the matter?’ ‘Why, do you know anything of the

candle? I cannot find it, my dear, and I want it sadly, for I fancy it

is time we should be up and be jogging. Dost know any thing of it, my

lad?’ ‘Not I, truly, father,’ said the boy, ‘I only know that I saw

mother stick it in the box-lid last night, and put it upon the chair,

which she set by the bedside, after you had put your clothes upon the

back of it; I know I saw her put it there, so it must be there now, I

fancy.’ ‘Well, I cannot find it,’ replied the father; so we must e’en

get up in the dark, for I am sure it must be time.’ The father and son

then both dressed themselves, and the man, taking a shilling out of his

pocket, laid it upon the chair, saying at the same time, ‘There, Betty.

I have left a shilling for you; take care it does not go after the

candle, for where that is I cannot tell any more than the carp at the

bottom of the squire’s fish-pond.’ He then unlocked the door, and went

away, accompanied by his son.

After their departure, we again came out, and took another walk round

the room, and found our way into a little cupboard, which we had not

before observed. Here we discovered half a loaf of bread, a piece of

cold pudding, a lump of salt butter, some soft sugar in a basin, and a

fine large slice of bacon. On these dainties we feasted very amply, and

agreed that we should again hide ourselves behind the black trunk all

day, and at night, when the family were in bed, return to take another

meal on the plenty of nice provision which we so happily discovered.

Accordingly, we crept back just as the woman went to fill her teakettle

at a pump, which stood between her house and the next neighbour’s. When

she returned, she put it upon the fire she had just lit, and, taking a

pair of bellows in her hand, sat down to blow it.

While she was so employed, a young gentleman, about ten years of age,

very genteelly dressed, entered the room, and in a familiar manner asked

her how she did. ‘I am very well, thank you, my dear,’ replied she:

‘and pray, Master George, how does your mamma and papa do; and all your

brothers and sisters?’ ‘They are all very well, thank you,’ returned

the boy: ‘And I am come to bring you a slice of cake, which my grandpapa

gave me yesterday.’ Then throwing his arms round her neck, he went on

saying, ‘Oh! my dear, dear Betty Flood, how I do love you! I would do

anything in the world to serve you. I shall save all my Christmas-boxes

to give to you; and when I am a man, I will give you a great deal of

money. I wish you were a lady, and not so poor.’ ‘I am much obliged to

you, my dear,’ said she, ‘for your kind good-wishes; but, indeed, love,

I am very well contented with my station: I have a good husband, and

three good children, and that is more than many a lady can say; and

riches, Master George, unless people are good, and those one lives with

are kind and obliging, will never make anybody happy. What comfort, now,

do you think a body could ever have at Squire Stately’s? I declare, if

it was put to my choice, I would rather a thousand times be as I am.

To be sure, they are very rich; but what of that? they cannot eat gold;

neither can gold ease their hearts when they are bursting almost with

pride and ill-nature. They say, indeed, that Madam Stately would be kind

enough, if they would let her rest; but what with the Squire’s drinking

and swearing, and the young gentleman’s extravagance, and her daughter’s

pride and quarrelling, she is almost tired out of her life. And so,

Master George, I say I had rather be poor Betty Flood, with honest

Abraham for my husband, than the finest lady in the land, if I must

live at such a rate. To be sure, nobody can deny but that money is very

desirable, and people that are rich can do many agreeable things which

we poor ones cannot; but yet, for all that, money does not make people

happy. Happiness, Master George, depends greatly upon people’s own

tempers and dispositions: a person who is fretful and cross will never

be happy, though he should be made king of all England; and a person who

is contented and good-humoured will never be wretched, though he should

be as poor as a beggar. So never fret yourself, love, because Betty

Flood is poor; for though I am poor, I am honest; and whilst my husband

and I are happy enough to be blessed with health, and the use of our

limbs, we can work for our living; and though we have no great plenty,

still we have sufficient to support us. So pray, dear, eat your cake

yourself, for I would not take it from you for ever so much.’ They then

disputed for some time who should have it: at last, George scuffled away

from her, and put it into the closet, and then, nodding his head at her,

ran away, saying, he must go to school that moment.

Betty Flood then ate her breakfast; and we heard her say something about

the nasty mice, but what we could not make out, as she muttered softly

to herself. She then came to the trunk behind which we lay, and taking

out of it a roll of new linen, sat down to needlework. At twelve o’clock

her husband and son returned; so moving her table out of the way, she

made room for them at the fire, and, fetching the frying pan, dressed

some rashers of the nice bacon we had before tasted in the cupboard. The

boy, in the mean time, spread a cloth on the table, and placed the bread

and cold pudding on it likewise: then, returning to the closet for their

plates, he cried out, ‘Lauk! father, here is a nice hunch of plum-cake;

can you tell how it came?’ ‘Not I, indeed, Tom,’ replied his father; ‘I

can tell no more than the carp at the bottom of the squire’s fish-pond.’

‘Oh, I will tell you.’ said Mrs. Flood; ‘I know how it came. Do you

know, that dear child, Master George Kendall, brought it for me; he

called as he went to school this morning. I told him I would not have

it; but the dear little soul popped it into the cupboard, and ran away

without it. Bless his little heart! I do think he is the sweetest child

that ever was born. You may laugh at me for saying so; but I am sure I

should have thought the same if I had not nursed him myself.’ ‘Indeed,’

replied her husband, ‘I do not laugh at you for saying so, for I think

so too, and so must everyone who knows him; for when young gentlemen

behave as he does, everybody must love and admire them. There is nothing

I would not do to help and serve that child, or any of his family; they

always are so kind, and speak as civilly to us poor folk as if we were

the first lords or ladies in the land. I am sure, if it were needful, I

would go through fire and water for their sakes; and so would every man

in the parish, I dare say. But I wonder who would do as much to help

Squire Stately or any of his family, if it was not that I should think

it my duty (and an honest man ought always to do that, whether he likes

it or not); but I say, if it was not that it would be my duty to help my

fellow-creature, I would scarcely be at the trouble of stepping over the

threshold to serve them, they are such a set of cross, good-for-nothing

gentry. I declare, it was but as we came home to dinner now, that we saw

Master Sam throwing sticks and stones at Dame Frugal’s ducks, for the

sake of seeing them waddle; and then, when they got to the pond, he sent

his dog in after them to bark and frighten them out of their wits. And

as I came by, nothing would serve him but throwing a great dab of mud

all over the sleeve of my coat. So I said, “Why, Master Sam, you need

not have done that; I did nothing to offend you; and however amusing you

may think it to insult poor people, I assure you it is very wicked, and

what no good person in the world would be guilty of.” He then set up

a great rude laugh, and I walked on and said no more. But if all

gentlefolk were to behave like that family, I had rather be poor as I

am, than have all their riches, if that would make me act like them.’

‘Very true, Abraham,’ replied his wife, ‘that is what I say, and what I

told Master George this morning; for to be poor, if people do not become

so through their own extravagance, is no disgrace to any body: but to be

haughty, cruel, cross, and mischievous, is a disgrace to all who are so,

let their rank be as exalted as it may.’

Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a man, who

begged Mr. Flood to assist him in unloading his cart of flour, as his

man was gone out, and he could not do it by himself. ‘Well, I will come

and help you, with all my heart,’ said Flood; ‘and so shall Tom too:

will you, my lad? I cannot live without help myself; and if I do not

assist others, I am sure I shall not deserve any when I want it.’ So

saying, he left his house; and his wife, after cleaning and putting in

their proper places those things which had been used at dinner, again

sat down to her sewing.

Soon after the clock had struck six, the man and his son returned; and,

sitting round the fire, they passed the evening in social conversation,

till they went to bed, which was a little after eight; and they

convinced me, by their talk and behaviour, that happiness in this world

depends far more upon the temper and disposition of the heart, than upon

any external possessions; and that virtue, and a desire to be useful

to others, afford far greater satisfaction and peace of mind than

any riches and grandeur can possibly supply without such necessary

qualifications. After they were all fallen asleep, we crept out; and,

leaving the candle unmolested, which was again placed on the tinder-box

by the bed-side, we hastened into the closet, where we regaled heartily,

and devoured that part of the plum-cake which Tom had very generously

left for his sister Polly, who we found was expected home the next day.

We then retired to our safe retreat, and thought we might venture to

stay for one more night’s provisions without running any danger from our

too frequent return to the same place. But in the morning we found our

scheme frustrated; for, on the woman’s going to the closet to get

her breakfast, she observed the robbery which we had committed, and

exclaimed, ‘Some teasing mice have found their way into the closet: I

will borrow neighbour Savewell’s trap to-night, and catch some of the

little toads; that I will!’ After hearing this, it would have been

madness to make any further attempts: we therefore agreed to watch for

an opportunity, and escape on the very first that offered. Accordingly,

about noon, when Mrs. Flood was busily employed in making some pancakes,

we slipped by her unobserved, and crept out at the same hole by which we

first entered. But no sooner were we in the open road, than we repented

our haste, and wished that we had continued where we were till

the darkness of the night might better have concealed us from the

observation of anyone. We crept as close to the wall of the house (as

far as it reached, which was but a few paces) as we possibly could, and

then stepped into a little ditch, which we were soon obliged to leave

again, as the water ran in some parts of it almost up to the edge.

At length we reached a little cottage, which we were just entering, when

a cat that was sleeping unnoticed by us upon a chair, jumped down, and

would certainly have destroyed me (who happened to go first) had she not

at the same moment tried to catch my brother, and by that means missed

her aim, and so given us both an opportunity to escape, which we did by

scrambling behind a brick that a child had been playing with by the side

of the door. Fortunately, the brick lay too close to the house for the

cat to get her paw behind it, so as to be able to reach us; though to

avoid it we were obliged to use the greatest precaution, as she could

thrust it in a little way, so that if we had gone one inch too near

either end, she would certainly have dragged us out by her talons. In

this dreadful situation did we spend some hours, incessantly moving

from one end of the brick to the other; for the moment she had, by the

entrance of her paw at one end, driven us to the other, she stepped

over, and again made us retreat. Think with what dreadful terror our

little hearts must have been oppressed, to see our mortal enemy so

closely watching us, expecting every moment when she shook the brick

with her two forepaws in searching, and with her mouth endeavoured to

lift it up, that she would be so far able to effect her purpose, as to

make it impossible for us to escape her jaws. But, happily for us, it

had somehow or other got so wedged that she could not move it to any

distance; though it kept momentarily increasing our terrors, by shaking

as she strove to turn it.

From this state of horror, however, we were at length delivered by a

little boy of about two years old, who came out of the house, and taking

the cat up round its body with both hands, tottered away with it, and

shut the door.

Finding ourselves thus unexpectedly once more at liberty, we determined

to make use of it, by seeking some safer retreat, at least, till night

should better hide us from public view. Terrified almost out of our

senses, we crept from behind the brick, and, after running a few yards,

slipped under the folding doors of a barn, and soon concealed ourselves

amidst a vast quantity of threshed corn. This appeared to us the most

desirable retreat that we had yet found; not only as it afforded such

immense plenty of food, but also as we could so easily hide ourselves

from the observation of any one: beside, as it did not appear to be a

dwelling-house, we could in security reside, free from any danger of

traps, or the cruelty of man. We therefore congratulated each other, not

more on account of the wonderful escape which we had, than upon our good

fortune in coming to a Spot so blessed with peace and plenty.

After we were a little recovered from the fatigue of mind, as well as

of body, which we had lately gone through, we regaled very heartily upon

the corn that surrounded us, and then fell into a charming sleep, from

which we were awakened the next morning by the sound of human voices.

We very distinctly heard that of a boy, saying, ‘Let us mix all the

threshed corn with the rest that is not threshed, and that will make

a fine fuss, and set John and Simon a swearing like troopers when they

come and find all their labour lost, and that they must do all their

work over again.’ ‘And do you think there is anything so agreeable in

giving people trouble, and hearing them swear,’ replied another voice,

‘that you can wish to do it? For my part. I think it is so wicked a

thing, that I hate to hear anybody guilty of it, much less would I be

the cause of making them commit so great a sin; and as for giving them

all their trouble over again, so far would it be from affording me any

pleasure, that on the contrary it would give me great pain; for however

you may think of it, Will, I assure you, it always gives me much

uneasiness to see people labouring and working hard. I always think how

much I should dislike to be obliged to do so myself, and therefore

very sincerely pity those who must. On no account therefore will I do

anything to add to their labour, or that shall give them unnecessary

work.’

‘Pooh!’ answered Will, ‘you are wonderfully wise; I, for my part, hate

such super-abundant wisdom; I like to see folk fret, and stew, and

scold, as our maids did last week when I cut the line, and let all the

sheets, and gowns, and petticoats, and frocks, and shirts, and aprons,

and caps, and what not, fall plump into the dirt. O! how I did laugh!

and how they did mutter and scold! And do you know, that just as the

wash ladies were wiping their coddled hands, and comforted themselves

with the thought of their work being all over, and were going to sip

their tea by the fireside, I put them all to the scout; and they were

obliged to wash every rag over again. I shall never forget how cross

they looked, nay, I verily believe Susan cried about it; and how I did

laugh!’

‘And pray,’ rejoined the other boy, ‘should you have laughed equally

hearty if, after you had been at school all day, and had with much

difficulty just got through all your writing, and different exercises,

and were going to play, should you laugh, I say, if somebody was to

run away with them all, and your master oblige you to do them all over

again? Tell me, Will, should you laugh, or cry and look cross? And even

that would not be half so bad for you, as it was for the maids to be

obliged to wash their clothes over again; washing is very hard labour,

and tires people sadly, and so does threshing too. It is very unkind,

therefore, to give them such unnecessary trouble; and everything that

is unkind, is wicked; and I would not do it upon any account, I assure

you.’ ‘Then I assure you,’ replied Will, ‘you may let it alone; I can

do it without your assistance.’ He then began mixing the grain and the

chaff together, the other boy strongly remonstrating against it, to

which he paid no attention; and whilst he was so employed, two men,

Simon and John, entered the barn.

‘Why, how now, Master Billy,’ said Simon; ‘what are you about? What

business have you to be here? You are always doing some mischief or

other! I wish, with all my heart, that you were kept chained like a dog,

and never suffered to be at liberty, for you do more harm in an hour,

than a body can set right again in a month!’ Will then took up hats full

of the corn and chaff, and threw it in the two men’s faces; afterwards

taking up a flail, he gave Simon a blow across his back, saying, at the

same time, ‘I will show you the way to thresh, and separate the flesh

from the bones.’ ‘O! will you so, young squire?’ said John; ‘I will

show you the way to make naughty boys good.’ He then left the barn, but

presently returned accompanied by a gentleman, upon the sight of whom

Will let fall the flail, which he was till then brandishing over Simon’s

head, and was going away, when the gentleman taking hold of his hand,

said, ‘You do not stir from this place, Master William, nor have one

mouthful of breakfast, till you have asked the men pardon for your

behaviour, and likewise sifted every grain of corn from the chaff which

you have mixed with it. When you have done that, you may have some

food, but not before; and afterward you may spend the rest of the day in

threshing, then you will be a better judge, my boy, of the fatigue and

labour of it, and find how you should like, after working hard all day,

to have it rendered useless by a mischievous boy. Remember, William,

what I have now said to you, for I do insist upon being minded; and I

promise you, that if you offer to play, or do anything else today, you

shall be punished very severely.’ The gentleman then went away. Will

muttered something, I could not exactly hear what, began to sift the

corn, and so much had he mixed together, that he did not go in for his

breakfast till after I had heard the church clock strike one, though

it was before eight when he came into the barn. In about an hour he

returned, and the other boy with him, who addressed him, saying, ‘Ah!

Will, you had better have taken my advice, and not have done so: I

thought what you would get by your nice fun as you called it. I never

knew any good come of mischief; it generally brings those who do it into

disgrace; or if they should happen to escape unpunished, still it

is always attended with some inconvenience: it is an ill-natured

disposition which can take pleasure in giving trouble to any one.’ ‘Do

hold your tongue, James,’ replied Will; ‘I declare I have not patience

to hear you preach, you are so prodigiously wise, and prudent, and

sober; you had better go indoors and sew with your mamma, for you talk

just as if you were a girl, and not in the least like a boy of spirit.’

‘Like a girl!’ resumed James. ‘Are girls then the only folk who have any

sense, or good nature? Or what proof does it shew of spirit to be fond

of mischief, and giving people trouble? It is like a monkey of spirit

indeed; but I cannot say, that I see either spirit or sense in making

the clean clothes fall into the dirt, or mixing the corn and chaff, for

the sake of making the poor servants do them all over again: if these

things are a sign of any spirit. I am sure it is of an evil one, and not

at all such as I wish to possess, though I no more want to sit still,

or work with a needle, than you do; but I hope there are other ways of

showing my spirit, as you call it, than by doing mischief, and being

ill-natured. I do not think my papa ever seems to be effeminate, or want

sufficient spirit; but he would scorn to give unnecessary trouble to

anybody: and so will Tom Vaulter, though no boy in the world loves play

better than he does; he plays at cricket the best of any boy in the

school, and I am sure none can beat him at tennis; and as for skipping,

I never saw a boy skip so well in all my life; and I am sure he would

beat you, with all your spirit, out and out twenty times, either at

running, or sliding, or swimming, or climbing a tree. And yet he

never gives trouble to anybody for the sake of fun; he is one of the

best-tempered boys in the world; and whether it is like a girl or not,

he always does what he knows to be right and kind; and if that is being

like girls, why, with all my heart; I like girls well enough, and if

they behave well I do not see why you should speak so contemptuously of

them. My papa always says that he loves girls just as well as boys, and

none but foolish and naughty boys despise and tease them.’ Just as he

said these words, Simon and John entered the barn, and seeing Will stand

idle, ‘Come, come, young gentleman,’ said John, ‘take up your flail and

go to work, sir, to work! to work! night will be here presently, and

you have done nothing yet.’ Presently after the gentleman returned, and

enforced John’s advice for him to mind his work.

After Master Will had continued his employment some little time, he

began to cry, saying, his arms ached ready to drop off, and his hand was

so sore he could not bear it. ‘Then doubtless,’ replied his father, ‘you

would prodigiously like, after you have been labouring all day, to have

your work to do over again, for the sake of diverting a foolish boy. But

go on, William, I am determined that you shall, for one day, know what

it is to work hard, and thereby be taught to pity, and help, not add to

the fatigue of those who do.’ The boy then went on with his business,

though not without making great complaints, and shedding many tears. At

length, however, evening came; and the gentleman, his son, and the two

men, all went away, leaving Longtail and myself to enjoy our abundance.

We passed another night in the sweetest undisturbed repose, and in the

day had nothing to alarm our fears. In short, our situation was every

way so perfectly happy and desirable, that we thought, although our

mother had charged us not to return frequently to the same place, yet

she could not mean that we should not take up our abode in a spot so

secure and comfortable. We therefore determined to continue where we

were, till we should find some cause for removing. And happy had it been

for us if we had kept to this resolution, and remained contented when we

had everything requisite to make us so. Instead of which, after we had

thus, free from care, passed our time about seven months, like fools as

we were, we began to grow weary of our retirement, and of eating nothing

but the same food; and agreed that we would again venture forth and seek

for some other lodging, at the same time resolving, in case we could

find no habitation that suited us, to return to the barn where we had

enjoyed so many days of plenty and repose.

Accordingly, one fine moonlight Monday night, after securing our supper

on the corn, we set forth, and travelled for some distance without any

further molestation than our own natural fears created. At length we

came to a brick house, with about five or six windows in front, and made

our way into it through a small latticed window which gave air into

the pantry; but on our arrival here we had no opportunity of so much as

observing what it contained, for on our slipping down a cat instantly

flew at us, and by the greatest good luck in the world, there chanced to

be a hole in one of the boards of the floor close to the spot where we

stood, into which we both were happy enough to pop, before she could

catch us. Here we had time to reflect, and severely blame ourselves

for not being satisfied with our state in the barn. ‘When,’ said I,

addressing myself to my brother, ‘when shall we grow wise, and learn

to know that certain evil always attends every deviation from what is

right. When we disobeyed the advice of our mother, and, tempted by cakes

and other dainties, frequently returned to the same dangerous place, how

severely did we suffer for it? And now, by our own discontent, and not

being satisfied when so safely though more humbly lodged, into what

trouble have we not plunged ourselves? How securely have we lived in

the barn for the last seven months, and how happily might we still have

continued there, had it not been for our restless dispositions? Ah! my

brother, we have acted foolishly. We ought to have been contented

when we were at peace, and should have considered that if we had not

everything we could wish for, we had every thing that was necessary;

and the life of a mouse was never designed for perfect happiness. Such

enjoyment was never intended for our lot; it is the portion only of

beings whose capacities are far superior to ours. We ought then to have

been contented; and had we been so, we should have been as happy as our

state of life would have admitted of.’ ‘What you say is certainly very

true,’ replied Longtail, ‘and I sincerely wish that we had thought of

these things before. But what must we now do? we said we would return to

the barn in case of difficulties, but that is now impossible, as, if

we attempt to retreat, the cat that drove us in here, will certainly

destroy us; and yet in proceeding, what difficulties must we encounter,

what dangers may we not run! Oh! my beloved Nimble,’ continued he, ‘what

a life of hazard is ours! to what innumerable accidents are we hourly

exposed! and how is every meal that we eat at the risk of our very

existence!’

‘It undoubtedly is,’ replied I; ‘but with all its troubles we still are

very desirous of preserving it: let us not then, my brother, indulge

our hearts with murmuring and finding fault with that life, which,

notwithstanding all its evils, we value so highly. Rather let us

endeavour to learn experience, and, by conducting ourselves better,

escape many of those troubles which we now suffer.’ So saving, I advised

him to follow me: ‘for,’ added I, ‘it is impossible for us to exist in

the spot in which we are at present; we must therefore strive to work

our way into some other house or apartment, where we can at least find

some food.’ To this Longtail agreed; the rest of the night, and all the

next day, we spent in nibbling and finding our way into a closet in

the house, which richly repaid us for all our toil, as it contained

sugar-plums, rice, millet, various kinds of sweetmeats, and what we

liked better than all the rest, a paper of nice macaroons. On these we

feasted most deliciously till our hunger was fully satisfied, and then

creeping into a little hole, just big enough to contain us both, behind

one of the jars of sweetmeats, reposed ourselves with a nap, after our

various and great fatigues which we had gone through. I never was

a remarkably sound sleeper, the least noise disturbs me, and I was

awakened in the morning by the servant-maid’s coming into the room to

sweep it, and get it ready for the reception of her mistress and family,

who soon after entered. As I wanted to know from whom the voices I heard

proceeded, I stepped softly from behind the jar and just peeped under

the door into the room, where I discovered a gentleman, two ladies, and

a little boy and girl.

As I was totally unacquainted with all places of retreat, and did not

know how soon any of them might have occasion to open the closet door, I

instantly returned to my brother; and, awaking him, told him it was time

for us to be upon our guard, as the family were all up and about.

Whilst we were thus situated, the first words I heard distinctly were

those of the gentleman, saying, ‘No, Frank, I can never have a good

opinion of him; the boy who could once deceive may, for aught I know,

do so again; he has, by breaking his word, forfeited the only dependence

one could possibly have in him. A person who has once lost his honour

has no means left of gaining credit to his assertions. By honour, Frank,

I would be understood to speak of veracity, of virtue, of scorning

to commit a mean action, and not that brutish sense in which some

understand it, as if it consisted in a readiness to fight and resent an

injury; for so far am I from considering such behaviour as any proof of

honour, that, on the contrary, I look upon it as a sure sign of want of

proper spirit and true honour. Fools, bullies, and even cowards, will

fight; whereas none but men of sense and resolution and true magnanimity

know how to pardon and despise an insult.’ ‘But, indeed, sir,’ replied

the boy, ‘at school, if one did not fight, they would laugh at one so,

there would be no such thing as bearing it.’ ‘And for that very reason

it is, my dear, that I say, to pass by and pardon an insult requires

more resolution and courage than mere fighting does. When I wish you

to avoid quarrelling and fighting, I by no means want you to become a

coward, for I as much abhor a dastardly spirit as any boy in your school

can possibly do; but I would wish you to convince them that you merited

not that appellation, by showing through the whole of your behaviour,

a resolution that despised accidental pain, and avoided revenging an

affront for no other reason than because you were convinced it shewed a

much nobler spirit to pardon than to resent. And you may be assured, my

dear, few are the days that pass without affording us some opportunity

of exerting our patience, and showing that, although we disdain

quarrelling, still we are far from being cowards.

‘I remember, when I was at school, there was one boy, who, from his

first coming, declined upon all occasions engaging in any battle;

he even gave up many of his just rights to avoid quarrelling, which

conduct, instead of gaining (as it justly deserved) the approbation of

his companions, drew upon him the insult and abuse of the whole school;

and they were perpetually teasing him with the opprobrious title of

coward. For some time he bore it with great good-humour, and endeavoured

to laugh it off; but, finding that had no effect, he one day thus

addressed us:--“If you suppose that I like to be called a coward, you

are all very much mistaken; or if you think me one, I assure you that

you are not less so; for no boy in the school should, if put to the

trial, show greater resolution than myself. Indeed, I think it no small

proof of patience that I have borne your repeated insults so long;

when I could, by behaving more like a savage beast, and less like a

reasonable creature, have established my character at once; but I abhor

quarrelling, my soul detests to treat my fellow-creatures as if they

were brutes, from whose fangs I must defend myself; but if nothing else

but fighting will convince you that I possess not less courage than

yourselves, I will now offer, in cold blood, to engage with the biggest

boy in the school. If I conquer him, it will be a sign that I know how

to defend myself; and if he conquers me, I will, by my behaviour, give

a proof that I am not wanting in resolution to suffer pain, although I

never will so far demean the character of a reasonable creature and a

Christian, as to fight upon every trifling disagreement or insult.”

No sooner had he uttered these words, than every boy present was

loud either in his commendation or condemnation. One quarter of

them, convinced of the justness of his arguments, highly extolled his

forbearance; whilst the other three parts, with still greater noise,

only called him a bully and a mean-spirited coward, who dared not fight,

and for that reason made such a fine speech, hoping to intimidate them.

“Well then,” said he, “if such is your opinion, why will none of you

accept my offer? you surely cannot be afraid, you who are such brave

fellows, of such true courage, and such noble spirits, cannot be afraid

of a coward and a bully! Why, therefore, does not one of you step

forward, and put my fine speech to the test? Otherwise, after I have

thus challenged you all, I hope none for the future will think they have

any right to call me coward; though I again declare my fixed resolution

against fighting.”

‘Just as he said this, a voice calling for help, was heard from a lane

adjoining to the play-yard. Immediately we all flocked to the

side nearest whence it proceeded; and, clambering upon benches,

watering-pots, or whatever came first in our way, peeped over the wall,

where we discovered two well-grown lads, about seventeen or eighteen,

stripping a little boy of his clothes, and beating him for his outcries

in a most cruel manner; and at a little distance farther down the lane,

sat a company of gypsies, to whom the two lads evidently belonged. At

the sight of this we were all much distressed, and wished to relieve the

boy; though, discovering so large a party, we were too much afraid to

venture, till Tomkins (the boy I before spoke about) instantly jumped

from the wall, and only saying, “Has nobody courage to follow me?” ran

toward them as fast as possible, and with uncommon strength and agility

placed himself between them and the boy, and began defending himself

in the best manner he could; which he did for some time with great

dexterity, none of his fighting schoolfellows having courage to go to

his assistance. At length, however, seeing it impossible for him to

stand out any longer against two so much stronger than himself, the

boys agreed to secure themselves by numbers, and to sally forth to his

assistance altogether. This scheme succeeded, and very shortly rescued

Tomkins from his antagonists. He thanked them for their assistance,

saying, at the same time, “I hope you will no longer doubt my courage,

or my abilities to fight, when it is necessary or in a good cause.”

After so signal a proof of his viler, his greatest enemies could no

longer doubt it; and, without ever engaging in foolish battles, he

passed through school as much respected as any boy, and his magnanimity

was never again called in question.’

As the gentleman stopped speaking, the little girl called out, ‘O, papa,

the coach is at the door.’ ‘Is it, my dear?’ returned the father. ‘Well

then, stop, my love,’ said one of the ladies, ‘I have got a few cakes

for you: stay, and take them before you go.’ She then unlocked the

closet where we were, and took down the paper of macaroons, among which

we had so comfortably regaled ourselves; when, observing the hole in the

paper through which we entered, ‘O dear!’ she exclaimed, ‘the mice have

actually got into my cupboard. I will move all the things out this very

morning, and lock the cat up in it; for I shall be undone if the mice

once get footing here; they will soon spoil all my stores, and that

will never do.’ She then kissed both the children; and, giving them

the cakes, they, the gentleman, and another lady, all departed; and she

instantly began to move the boxes and jars from the closet; whilst we,

terrified almost out of our wits, sat trembling behind one of them, not

daring to stir, yet dreading the cat’s approach every moment.

We were soon, however, obliged to move our quarters, for the lady taking

down the very jar which concealed us, we were forced (without knowing

where we were) to jump down instantly. In vain we sought all round the

room for some avenue whereat we might escape; the apartment was too well

fitted up to admit the smallest crack; and we must then certainly have

been destroyed, had we not, with uncommon presence of mind, ran up the

back of the lady’s gown, by which means she lost sight of us, and gave

us an opportunity to make our escape, as she opened the door to order

the cat to be brought in. We seized the lucky moment, and, dropping

from her gown, fled with the utmost haste out at the house door, which

happened to be wide open; and I, without once looking behind me, ran on

till I discovered a little crack in the brick wall, which I entered, and

which, after many turnings and windings, brought me to this house, where

I have now continued skulking about in its different apartments for

above a month; during which time I have not heard the least tidings of

my beloved brother Longtail. Whether, therefore, any mischief befell him

as he followed me, or whether he entered the crack with me and then lost

sight of me, I know not; but in vain have I sought him every day since

my arrival within these walls, and so anxious am I to learn what is

become of him, that I am now come forth, contrary to my nature, to

engage your compassion, and to beseech you, in case--

At this moment, the door of my room opened, and my servant coming

hastily in, the mouse jumped from my table, and precipitately retreated

to the same hole from whence it first addressed me; and though I have

several times peeped into it, and even laid little bits of cake to

entice it back again, yet have I never been able to see it any where

since. Should either that, or any other, ever again favour me so far

with their confidence, as to instruct me with their history, I will

certainly communicate it with all possible speed to my little readers;

who I hope have been wise enough to attend to the advice given them

in the preceding pages, although it was delivered to them by one as

insignificant as a MOUSE.