Life and Perambulations of a Mouse | Page 5

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