THE MICE.
[Illustration]
NIBBLE, Brighteyes, Fluff, Puff, and Downy the baby. There are the names
of the mice, all written out nicely for you, and there in a corner is a
glimpse of the mouse-trap. Of course the children have real names, just
like other children; but I have given them mouse-names, which I very
much prefer to Harry and Bessie, and--but oh! dear, I didn't mean to
tell you any of their real names. Nibble is the oldest. He is now a fine
bright boy-mouse of twelve, but when he first came to the mouse-trap he
was only eight years old, and Brighteyes, the oldest girl-mouse, was
seven. Then came Fluff and Puff, the twins, who were just five, and
Downy the baby, a fat little fellow of three. You see their ages were
quite near enough for them all to be great friends and playmates, and so
they were. I never shall forget the day they came. It was a fine bright
day in May, and Spring was just awake in the old garden. The short new
grass was like emerald; the old gnarled apple-trees, which certainly
did look like Jonas Junk when their branches were bare, had lost all
trace of such likeness, for each was crowned with a pink and white
snowdrift of blossoms. Down in the neglected flower-beds the crocuses
and snowdrops were nodding and whispering to each other. "Yes," they
said, "some new people are coming to live in the old house, and there
are children among them. Mr. Breeze, the postman, knows all about them,
but he could not stop to tell us much this morning, for he was in a
hurry. Now we shall be cared for, and watered, and there will be some
pleasure in blossoming. When the children come, we will tell them how
those vulgar weeds pushed and crowded us last year." And they did tell
the children, but children do not understand flower-talk, I find. And
yet it is a very simple language. You see, I hear a great deal of
flower-gossip, for my moonbeams are sad chatterboxes, and they bring me
back all sorts of news when they come home in the morning. How the
burglar-bees robbed old Madam Peony, how the daffodils in the long
border had been flirting with the regiment of purple flags behind
them, when the Tulip family are expected; yes, there is no end to the
things I hear. But if I told all I know, everybody would be as wise as I
am, so let us go on about the mice. [Illustration: FLUFF AND PUFF.]
[Illustration]
Well, at about three o'clock in the afternoon of this fine day that I
have been describing, a large carriage, drawn by two fine black horses,
drove through the old gateway and down the quiet, lovely lane, and
stopped in front of the house. The very instant the wheels ceased to
turn, the door of the carriage burst open with a crash, and out jumped,
rolled, and tumbled my five mice. First came Nibble, in jacket and
trousers and cap. One jump out of the carriage, another to the top of a
post, and there he was. Next came Brighteyes, all flying, feet and curls
and hat and ribbons. Then one of the twins rolled out, and the other
tumbled out; and one was hurt, and the other was not. That is always the
way with those two children. One is lucky, and one unlucky. Puff always
falls on her feet. Fluff always falls on her head. Uncle Jack often
calls them Hap and Hazard, and that is the only difference between them.
However, when they got up and shook themselves, I saw that they were
very pretty little girls. Now I will make you a picture of them. Yes, I
can draw pictures too; in fact, there are very few things that I cannot
do if I try. Here they are, Puff and Fluff, two of the dearest mice in
the world.
[Illustration]
Next a gentleman stepped out of the carriage; a very, very tall
gentleman, with very broad shoulders, and very bright eyes. That was
Uncle Jack; and he helped Mrs. Posset to get out, for she had Downy
asleep in her arms, and he was a pretty good armful. Then Uncle Jack
took some bags and bundles out of the carriage; then he turned round and
said "Now, children, we will"--There he stopped, for not a child was to
be seen, except little fat Downy, fast asleep. Uncle Jack stared about
him. Posts, trees, house, but no children. "Sure they're all gone,
surr," said John the coachman. "'Twould be as aisy to ketch the wind and
kape it still as thim childher." And John never said a truer word in his
life. If my mirror were not so big, even I could not have seen them all.
Nibble was up in a tree, of course, picking apple-blossoms, for which he
ought to have been whipped. Indeed, the old tree did its best, for it
caught him by the leg, and tore a hole in his new trousers, which was
shocking to think of. Then he found an old bird's nest; and on the
whole, the tree seemed so very "jolly" that he decided to stay there; so
that was why Uncle Jack did not see _him_ when he looked round.
Brighteyes, after seeing her brother safely up in the tree, flew off
like a bird, here and there and everywhere. First she filled both hands
with dandelions. Then she saw a butterfly; down went the dandelions; off
went her best hat to serve as a butterfly-net; and away she went. A
pretty chase Master Butterfly led her, through last year's brambles and
this year's mud, until at last he left her high and dry on the top of a
fence, and flew off so fast that he was soon out of sight. There I left
her too, for I wanted to see what the twin mice were about.
[Illustration: NIBBLE IN THE APPLE TREE.]
I looked this way and that, but they were nowhere to be seen. At length
I caught a glimpse of something blue, among some very thick bushes. I
looked closer, and saw a sight that was truly melancholy. Among these
bushes stood a huge old wooden trough, which old Jonas had built to
receive the water that bubbled out of a spring close by. So the trough
was full of water, and this being the case, of course Fluff the unlucky
had fallen into it. How she had done it I do not know, but there she
was, splashing about in fine style.
"Give me your hand, Fluffy, and I'll pull you out!" said Puff.
"Oh! no, you can't!" cried poor little Fluff. "You're not any bigger as
I am, Puffy, and I'm so wet I feel very heavy."
And no wonder she did, for she had on a long thick coat which was
completely soaked. But Puffy was very sure about it. She gave a great
pull, and Fluff made a scramble, and out she came, knocking Puff down
and tumbling on top of her. Well, they were both wet enough when they
got up. Just then a very loud and strange noise was heard. At least, it
was strange to me, but the children cried "Oh! the rattle, the rattle!"
and away they scampered towards the house, as fast as they could go.
Poor Uncle Jack! he had been working hard all the afternoon, with John
and Thomas, (who had come in a cart with the other servants and the
trunks and the dogs), clearing away rubbish and unpacking furniture,
while Mrs. Posset and the maids were busy in the house. He had been
rather glad to have the children out of the way for a little while, but
now that it was six o'clock, and tea was laid in the dining-room, and a
bright wood fire blazing in the great open fireplace, he began to wonder
where his chickens were.
"Bless me!" he said. "Where is the rattle?" and opening a bag, he took
out a huge watchman's rattle, and sprung it briskly, making the strange
loud noise that Puff and Fluff had heard down by the spring. Presently
he heard a voice, then another, and then another. "Here I am, Uncle!"
"What is the matter, Uncle Jack?" "Hi! supper! come on, Brighteyes!" and
up scampered from all directions, the four mice in about as pretty a
plight as mice can well be in. Brighteyes was panting for breath and
limping, one shoe gone, no hat, and any number of scratches. Puff and
Fluff were wet, and muddy, and forlorn beyond description; while with
Nibble the only question was, which was bigger, his knickerbockers or
the hole in them.
Uncle Jack held up his hands in amazement, and then sat down on a
packing-box and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. "Oh! you
children, you children!" he cried. "This is what comes of bringing you
to the country to keep you out of mischief. Go in to Mrs. Posset at
once, give her my compliments, and tell her I wish her joy of you. And
as soon as you are fit to be seen, come down to supper, or Downy and I
will eat it all up."
Away went the mice into the house and upstairs, where Mrs. Posset
scolded, and brushed, and washed, and wiped and mended to an alarming
extent. The trunk in which Nibble's clothes were packed had not yet
arrived, so the young gentleman had to wait after the others were gone
down to tea, while Mary, the housemaid, mended his trousers.
[Illustration]
Bread and butter and raspberry jam are always good, but they must have
seemed particularly good that evening to those five hungry mice. Little
Downy soon finished his bowl of bread and milk, and was just thinking
about some jam when Mrs. Posset appeared in the doorway. I have a great
respect for Mrs. Posset. She is very faithful, and as fond of the mice
as if they were her own children; but I do wish she would not wear green
and yellow ribbons in her cap. It makes her look so like a stout elderly
daffodil, but that is neither here nor there. She appeared in the
doorway and looked at Downy. Downy looked at her, but did not move. Then
Mrs. Posset said, "Downy come with his Possy, and put on his ittle
nightcoatie, and go to his 'ittle beddy-house?" (That's another thing,
she always talks to that mouse as if he and she were both idiots). "No!"
said Downy. "Not want any beddy-house. Possy go away!" "Come, Downy,"
said his uncle. "You have had a long day, little man, and bed is the
best place for you. Nice bed! I wish I were in mine." "Not nice!" cried
Downy. "Naughty bed! take it away! A-a-a-ah!" and the poor little boy,
who was really tired out, began to scream and cry lustily. "Hush!" cried
Uncle Jack hastily. "Hush, Downy! the bed will hear you, and then who
knows what may happen?" Downy paused a moment and looked at his uncle in
astonishment. "What _do_ you mean, Uncle Jack?" asked Brighteyes. "Beds
cannot hear."
"Perhaps their posts are their ears," said Fluff.
"Oh! Fluffy," said Puff, "you _know_ their posts are their legs, so they
can't be their ears."
But Uncle Jack looked very grave, and said, "Have you never heard the
story of Little Willy and his bed? listen then, and I will tell it to
you."
[Illustration: MRS. POSSET.]
"One night, little Willy thought he did not want to go to bed. In fact,
he felt very sure about the matter. He had had his supper and it was
half past six o'clock. There was his bed, standing firmly on its four
fluted yellow legs, the white sheet turned down, and the pillow plumped
up, looking as inviting as a bed possibly could; but into it little
Willy would not go. First he kicked, and then he screamed, and then he
did both together. 'I _won't_ go to bed!' he cried. 'I hate my bed! it's
cold, and horrid, and ugly. I will _never_ get into it! naughty bed!'
[Illustration]
"He was lying on the floor, kicking the bed as hard as he could, when
suddenly what do you think happened? I shall shock you very much, but it
is best that you should know. The bed began to move! slowly it lifted
its fluted yellow legs, slowly it marched across the room until it
reached the window, and then, if you will believe me, it coolly marched
_out_ of the window, and thump! thump! thump! off it went down the
street.
"Little Willy ran to the window, and looked out, with eyes and mouth
wide open, in great surprise. Yes, it was really true. The bed was gone;
there it went, tramping down the middle of the street. Its pillow had
fallen a little to one side, which gave it a jaunty and rakish air.
'Humph!' said Willy. 'Well, I'm glad the ugly old thing is gone. Now I
shall not have to go to bed at all.'
[Illustration]
"That was all very well for an hour or so, but after that the little boy
began to grow very sleepy in spite of himself. He rubbed his eyes, he
yawned, he tried to shake himself broad awake, but it was of no use. For
some time longer he fought against the sleepiness, but at last he went
to his mother, looking very much ashamed, and said:
"'Please, mamma, I want to go to bed!' 'I am very sorry, Willy,' said
his mother; 'but you have no bed to go to. You have driven away your
good bed by ill-treatment, and now you must sit up all night.'
"Poor little Willy! he tried to go to sleep in a chair, but his head
kept tumbling backward or forward and waking him. Oh! he was wretchedly
uncomfortable, and finally he burst into tears. 'Oh! my dear bed!' cried
he. 'My nice, soft, warm, pretty bed! why did I ever treat you so badly?
oh! dear good bed, if you will only come back to me, I will never,
_never_ call you names again. Oh! oh! oh! how tired I am, and cold,
and--' but suddenly he stopped crying, for he thought he heard a noise
outside. He listened. Yes, through the open window came a faint
sound--thump! thump! thump! Willy flew to the window. Oh joy! there was
the bed, stumping back up the street on its fluted yellow legs. Back it
came, in at the window and across the room, till it stood in its
accustomed place. In about three minutes Willy's head was on the pillow,
and I believe he has never called his bed names since."
"Why! bless me!" said Uncle Jack, looking down. "Here is Downy asleep
too. Let us go upstairs and see if his bed is there all right. I hope it
did not hear what he said about it, for you see they are sensitive
fellows, these beds. Now then, up we go! I will carry Downy, Mrs.
Posset, and do you bring Puff and Fluff with you, for it is high time
that they were in bed too."
Well, Uncle Jack is a very wise man in most things, but I should have
thought he would have known better than to try the cat-stairs for the
first time at night, with a candle in one hand, and a child in his arms.
At the first step he bumped his own head; at the second he bumped the
child's head; at the third he bumped the candle, and put it out, so
there he was in the dark. A sad plight he would have been in if it had
not been for my beams; but two or three of the boldest and most skilful
of them popped down through the skylight and showed him the way up: for
which, by the way, he might have thanked them, but I dare say he did not
think of it. After stumbling over a trunk, and a chair, and nearly
breaking his nose against the edge of a door, poor Uncle Jack finally
reached the large room which he had chosen to be the nursery. Puff and
Fluff, who had tumbled up behind him, looked eagerly to see if Downy's
bed was there. Yes, there it stood, drawing its white curtains primly
round it, and looking very amiable. Fluff gave a sigh of relief.
"Oh," she said, "I was _so_ afraid it had heard what Downy said."
"I think, perhaps, it is a little deaf," said Puff. "It never seems to
mind, and yet he calls it all sorts of names sometimes."
"Can a thing be deaf in its legs, Uncle Jack?" asked Fluff.
But Uncle Jack began to laugh, and that hurt Fluff's feelings, so she
said nothing more. And now Mrs. Posset came, and the three dear little
mice were soon snugly tucked up in bed; the twins together, with their
arms round each other's necks, and little Downy curled up alone in his
pretty white nest, the sweetest mouse that ever was seen.
[Illustration: DOWNY ASLEEP IN HIS BED.]
Ah! now it was my turn. As soon as Mrs. Posset had left the room, down I
came post-haste, on Flash, my swiftest beam. I sat down on Fluff's
pillow, and soon introduced myself to the little mice. They were fast
asleep, of course, but that is the best time to take children. In
fact, I never can get on with them when they are awake, their heads are
full of so many things. "Yes," I said, "I really am the Man in the Moon.
I live in a silver palace----" [Illustration]
"_Really_ silver?" asked Puff.
"Yes, really silver, from top to bottom, from roof to cellar, walls and
floors, tables and chairs, dishes and spoons are all silver, as bright
as Flash, who is dancing about the room here."
"I should think a silver bed would be rather hard," said Fluff.
"Not when it has a cloud mattress and pillow," I replied. "That makes it
soft enough, I can tell you."
Then I told them how the clouds were divided into three classes, and how
one kind was good to sleep on, and another good to ride on, and the
third good (_very_ good, too,) to eat.
"Does it taste like the white part in floating island?" asked Fluff.
"Rather like it, but a great, great deal nicer, more like whipped
cream."
"And is that all you have to eat?"
"Oh, no! I have ice cream whenever I want it. All the mountains up here
are covered with ice cream instead of snow, and I have only to send a
beam out a few steps and I have all I want; pink or white, or any color
I choose."
"Oh, how lovely!" sighed Fluff. "Tell us more, Mr. Moonman!"
So I told them about my neighbors, the stars, and my elder brother in
the Sun, with his splendid palace of gold and diamond. We are very fond
of each other, but we cannot often visit each other, so we send letters
and messages by the comets, who come and go, or by the merry meteors.
Well, well, how many questions they did ask, those mice. I had been
telling them about my big mirror, and "Oh!" cried Puff, "can you really
see all the people in the world?"
"Yes, indeed, but not all at once. As I tip my glass this way or that,
so I see this place or that place. Yesterday I saw a fine sight, I can
tell you."
"Oh! what was it? what was it?" cried the three mice.
"You shall hear," I said, "if you will be quiet. Listen now, for it is
nearly time for me to go home, and Flash is looking pale.
[Illustration]
"Well, I saw some wolves go to a concert, and that is more than any of
you ever saw, I'll warrant. In a certain wild part of northern Germany,
there lived three good brothers whom I know very well. Their names are
Hans, Karl, and Wilhelm; and they are musicians by trade; that is to
say, Hans plays on the violoncello, which is a very big fiddle, about
half as big as himself, while Wilhelm has a small fiddle, and Karl toots
away on a kind of little brass trumpet called a cornet. So, now you
know about the men as if you had seen them, for they do nothing in the
world but play on their several instruments. Now, yesterday there was to
be a wedding, and the three brothers were asked to come and play for the
guests to dance. Their way led through a wild and gloomy forest, where
many wild beasts roamed about; but the three started merrily, and
strolled along singing and talking together. Suddenly they stopped
singing, for they heard a noise that was not so pleasant as their song;
it was a long, low howl, and soon came another, and another. Then they
knew that the wolves were coming, and their hearts sank within them.
Anxiously they looked about them. They were in an open space in the
wood. Now a rustling was heard, and out came a gray wolf and looked at
them. The teeth of the three brothers chattered in their heads; it was
like the sound of castanets, as I hear them played in Spain by the
black-eyed dancing-girls. Another wolf came out, and he came yet nearer,
and then two more. 'If I had but my gun!' cried Hans. 'If I had but my
hunting-knife!' said Karl. 'Ah! brothers,' said Wilhelm, 'we have
nothing, so we must die. Nevertheless, let us die merrily, so take your
instruments and we will play a tune for these beasts, that we may all
dance together.'
[Illustration]
"So the three brothers took their instruments, the big fiddle, and the
little fiddle, and the trumpet, and began to play. As the first notes
sounded the wolves stopped short. Seeing this, the brothers played the
faster a merry waltz, which they had meant to play at the wedding.
'Tra-la-la! tra-la-la!' gaily rang out the notes in the clear air, while
the musicians' teeth rattled like the castanets, and their limbs
trembled, and their hands could scarcely hold the instruments; for they
were playing for their lives, you see! yes, and they won the game, for
the wolves, who were not used to concerts, did not know what to make of
this sort of thing. They began to be frightened, to wonder what strange
beasts these were, with such wild voices. They looked at each other and
drew back a step or two, it was well to be near the forest in any case.
Further and further they retired toward the shade of the trees, and
finally, as the music changed to a furious jig, and the trumpet sounded
out like the scream of a panther, the terrified wolves turned tail and
ran as fast as their fright and their four legs could carry them. Off as
fast in the opposite direction ran also Hans, Karl, and Wilhelm, playing
as they went. They played and ran, ran and played till they reached the
open fields and the houses; and then they sat down under a haystack and
did not move for the rest of the day. Ah! that was a fine concert! but
there was no music at the wedding, which is sad to think of."
With that I kissed my three mice, and bade them good-night, though it
was nearly morning; then mounting my moonbeam I whisked away, and soon
left mice and mouse-trap far behind.
[Illustration]
Wake! wake! children, wake!
Here we're singing for your sake.
Chirrup! chirrup! chirrup! chee!
Sweet a song as sweet can be.
Rise! rise! children, rise!
Shake the poppies from your eyes.
Sweet! sweet! chirrup! tweet!
Morning blossoms at your feet.
Song and sweetness, dawn and dew,
All are waiting now for you.
Wake! wake! children, wake!
Here we're singing for your sake.