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Updated: June 1, 2025


But, when those silly men mix us up in it, lump us all together with Cousin Field-Mouse and persecute us and kill us for what he has done, I tell you, cousin, then it does concern us!" "That's true," said the house-mouse. They sat on; and neither spoke. It was getting on towards evening; and both of them had to go to work when it grew dark.

He had only once been actually caught, but he was very near it in the corn-bin. Now, a house-mouse has no right whatever in the corn-bin, and yet it was a point of honour with the house-mice that they should visit their stable relations at least once a week. It was the love of excitement, more than the love of corn, which impelled them.

"Good-morning, cousin, and the same to you," said the house-mouse. "One doesn't go out for one's pleasure at this time of year." "No, indeed, cousin," said the wood-mouse. "I always stay indoors, except just to take a mouthful of fresh air and throw out the shells. Look, here is my dust-heap." Quite a little pile of nut-and acorn-shells lay outside the mouse-hole.

"But perhaps the rat-catcher or the new cat has caught her?" "No," said the house-mouse. "She escaped; and so did most of her children. And they have multiplied in such a way that you simply can't turn for rats, Jens says." "Then, you'll see, they will forget you all right," said the wood-mouse, "if only you are careful and discreet." "Jens will forget me, perhaps," said the house-mouse, sadly.

The house-mouse then visited the rat in her new home, which she thought ever so nice, though a little too large from a mouse's point of view. After that, she said good-bye and went back to her own place. But, during the next few days, she came across to the barn every night and had her share of the good things in the packing-case.

And how are we to inform the human beings of their mistake? I know no way of obtaining speech with them. Well, good-bye, cousin, and au revoir." "Good-bye, cousin, and au revoir to you," said the house-mouse. Then the one went out into the wood, to forage for the winter, and the other into her young lady's larder.

They call themselves rats, but I don't believe that they are rats at all. I am sure they're a sort of fish by the way they swim. And the way they eat! And the way they multiply! They have children once a week, I do believe. It's disgusting." "It certainly is," said the wood-mouse. "Cousin House-Mouse and I were just sitting and talking about it, cousin. But what's to be done, cousin?

And it's the loveliest forest-hay that you can imagine." "Yes, I know," said the house-mouse. "I saw him carting hay into the barn last year." "Yes, but there will be no hay this year," said the wood-mouse. "You see, cousin, some time ago the glade began to wither and turn yellow. It became yellower and yellower every day. The keeper came and told the forester.

The house-mouse felt horribly cold, because of her bare tail, and the wood-mouse wished her cousin would go away, so that she might run down to her warm nest. "Tell me," said the wood-mouse. "How is our cousin from Copenhagen doing over in the barn? Haven't you talked to her?" "No, I haven't," said the house-mouse.

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