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And I won't deny I may eat a bit of root once in a way, in the spring, when the roots are quite fresh. But what then? The forester himself is fond of vegetables, so he really need not grudge me a few." "Certainly not," said the house-mouse. "You are quite right, cousin. You only do what we all do." "Thank you for that kind word, cousin," said the wood-mouse. "I think it's only fair.
She began at once to gnaw a hole in the floor, at a place where the boards were rather rotten, so that it was an easy job. The hole was soon ready and there was plenty of room for a family of rats under the boards. The rat immediately began to collect straw and took it down with her. When she had finished her work, she stopped and looked the house-mouse straight in the face.
The house-mouse was silent for a moment, out of respect for the other's emotion. And presently the wood-mouse began to speak of her own accord: "The field-mouse is our cousin, cousin, our own first cousin. There's no denying the fact. But I must confess that I think she does the family no credit. She is preposterously greedy. And her absurd gluttony injures all of us.
"Who in the name of wonder are you?" asked the house-mouse. "You have mousy ways and, if you were black, I should say you were a rat." "I am a rat," said the other. "Rats were black in the old days. The fashion now is to be brown. Black rats are quite out of date and are of no use to-day." "Oh, really!" said the house-mouse, circumspectly.
"Oh yes!" said the house-mouse. "Now I understand! But tell me, cousin, don't you think the new forester would also go for the mice, if he could? It seems to me I have heard the old one say that the mice are the wood's worst enemies. And it must be the wood-mice he means. For I don't know of any harm that I do to the wood."
He took quite a little bit of flesh, so that the man had to go to the doctor and walk about with a bandage for many days." "That's horrid," said the wood-mouse. "And it's quite unlike a mouse's nature. We are not beasts of prey, that I do know. Do you really believe he's our cousin?" "He is indeed," said the house-mouse. "I know it; and there's no mistaking it either, when you see him.
I should prefer you to wait until the winter's over, when I have had my spring-cleaning." "Oh, very well!" said the house-mouse. "Then we'll stay here, though it's horribly cold sitting on one's bare tail in the snow. As I said, I only wanted to talk to you a bit. It's about the family. I don't know if you have heard that a cousin of ours has arrived from Copenhagen?"
But they do so for this reason, that they behave themselves in such a way that we have to suffer for it. And, as far as relationship is concerned, they are your relations as well as mine." "But who are they, cousin?" asked the house-mouse. "Tell me, quickly. I have no notion of whom you're thinking." "I'm thinking of the field-mouse," said the wood-mouse, with a deep sigh.
"Oh, you needn't think it's much better out here!" said the wood-mouse. "There's a new young forester come; and he's a terror!" "I know," said the house-mouse. "He came down with the rat-catcher. Jens fetched them at the station." "But the rat-catcher went back again," said the wood-mouse. "The young forester stayed here and is still here; and I don't expect he will ever go.
And they all see as well at night as an ordinary body does in broad daylight. And he has all these fellows gratis. The cat and the trap he has to buy. But his forest-police he gets for nothing." "That's true," said the house-mouse. "Therefore it's not I either," said the wood-mouse. "It's not you and it's not I. Shall I tell you who it is? It's our cousin, the field-mouse.
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