Wee Timrous Beasties | Page 4

a dog's yelp, the
shout of its master, and the dull thud of a bludgeon, told plainly enough
the tale of some unhappy rodent's dash for freedom.
And so the sun went down blood-red.
It was midnight, however, before the remnant gathered themselves
together, and agreed on flight. The trek was headed by an old brown rat.
Of the dozen that survived it, he was the only mouse.
* * * * *
Better, after all, to have never finished the journey, and, yet, why
should he complain? He had lived longer than most, and had had his
supreme moments.
* * * * *
"'The mouse behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd.'"
He had been dozing behind the wainscot in the dining-room, and the

squeak of irritation had been due to a passing spider. The apt quotation
reached him through the panel.
"Squeaked, surely?" The correction came in a soft, woman's voice.
"No, shrieked; I am certain of it."
"Squeaked, I think; a mouse doesn't shriek."
[Illustration: HE RUSHED OFF TO TELL HER BEFORE HE
SHOULD FORGET IT.]
"Ah, but this mouse had a poetic licence."
"Look it up."
"I will."
The book was taken from within two inches of where he sat.
"'Shrieked' it is."
It amused him vastly, for he had never shrieked in his life.
"Do you like mice?" It was the first voice speaking again.
"Hate them--smelly little things."
[Illustration: SHE WAS A VERITABLE QUEEN AMONG MICE.]
"Do you remember that thing of Suckling's?--
"'Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice, ran in and out, As if
they feared the light.'
"Pretty, rather, I think."
"What's pretty?"

"Oh, I don't know--your feet, I suppose."
[Illustration: HE HAD FOUGHT FIVE SUITORS TO WIN HER.]
He felt disappointed. Surely it was the feet that profited by the
comparison. Still, he knew that the whole conversation would amuse
his wife, and rushed off to tell her before he should forget it.
He had been rather anxious about her of late. Only the previous evening
he had peeped from behind the bookcase and seen her backed into a
corner, and defying six feet of solid humanity with brandished paws.
Behaviour of this kind was courageous, but unmouselike, and would
assuredly get her into difficulties.
He found her in the midst of tiny wisps of paper, thread, and wool, that
had been her chief concern for three days past.
"Did you ever shriek?" he cried.
"No," she replied; "but I shall do if you can't be less clumsy."
He looked at her in amazement. Then the truth burst upon him. He was
the father of seven, and was awkwardly seated upon three of them.
* * * * *
She had been a good wife to him, this first. He had three especial
favourites, the first, the third, and the sixth, but it was unquestionably
the first that he had been the most proud of. She was a veritable queen
among mice, and he had fought five suitors to win her. The madness of
it! He had gone from basement to ceiling, challenging all and sundry
who ventured to dispute his claim. But she was worth it. All he knew of
house-life he had learnt from her. It was she who showed him the way
to rob a trap. First she would sit upon the spring-door and satisfy
herself that it was not lightly set, then with flattened body she would
steal beneath it, and push, instead of pull, the bait.
[Illustration: FIRST SHE WOULD SIT UPON THE SPRING-DOOR.]

Under her guidance he learnt every nook and corner of the rambling
house, the swiftest ways from garret to cellar, the entrances and exits of
the runs, their sudden drops and windings, and all the thousand
intricacies of architecture that make life under one roof possible for
both mice and men.
[Illustration: THEN WITH FLATTENED BODY SHE WOULD
STEAL BENEATH IT.]
He learnt, moreover, from her that fighting the cat was merely a game
of patience, and that even the human male has a warm corner in his
heart for the mouse that is bold enough to approach him.
And yet she fell a victim to the cat herself. It was out of pure bravado
that she crossed its tail to prove that a cat with its eye on a mouse-hole
has no eye for anything else.
He, too, had been in the cat's clutches once. It was hardly to his
discredit. He had been with his wife at the time, had heard the sneaking
footfall, and was in the act of pushing her into shelter when he felt
himself pinned down.
The moment the cat's paw touched him he had relaxed every muscle
and feigned death. The ruse succeeded. The cat loosened her hold, and
he had a two-yard run before he was