Mouser Cats Story | Page 4

It seems that Mr. Thomas had been out in the stable stealing the food which was left for Mr. Towser, and one of the maids, seeing it, told Mr. Man, so then and there it was decided that Mr. Thomas must be drowned. Mr. Man called him up, as if he was the best friend he ever had, and when Mr. Thomas got near enough, he caught him by the tail, starting off at once for the stream.
[Illustration: Dragging Mr. Thomas to his Fate.]
"'What are you going to do with me?' Mr. Thomas cried, and Mr. Man said:
"'You wait and see. I'll teach you to steal Mr. Towser's food! You are no good, that's what's the trouble with you--you are no good!'
"So he took a rope out of his pocket and tied it around Mr. Thomas' neck, after they got near the water. Then bent down over the bank to get a big rock, when his foot slipped, and in he went splashing and howling until you might have heard him on the next farm, for he couldn't swim a stroke, and the water was deep where he went in.
"Of course Mr. Thomas wasn't able to do anything to help him, so off he started for the house the best he knew how, with the rope dragging on behind, and when he got there, Mrs. Man couldn't help seeing him. Knowing what her husband had counted on doing she mistrusted that something was wrong, so down she ran to the stream, getting there just in time to pull Mr. Man out of the water before he drew his last breath.
"'How did you know where I was?' Mr. Man asked after the water had run out of his mouth.
"'Why the cat just the same as told me, when he came back with a rope around his neck.'
"'Well, he was some good after all,' Mr. Man said.' I had begun to think all cats were useless, but it seems Mr. Crow was right in that poetry of his, after all.'
"Then Mr. Man went up to the house, and since then Mr. Thomas has been allowed to stay round the farm, just as he pleases."

MR. CROW'S FANCY.
"What did he mean by saying Mr. Crow was right?"
"Oh, that was on account of a piece of poetry he wrote about me. There isn't much of it, and perhaps you had just as soon I would repeat it."
Then, without waiting for permission, Mrs. Mouser recited the following:
Some people love the gay giraffe Because his antics make them laugh (I've never found him witty), Others prefer the cockatoo-- He does things I should hate to do; He's vulgar--more's the pity!
An ostrich draws admiring throngs Whenever he sings his comic songs, And, really, it's no wonder! The dormouse has been highly rated (and justly) for his celebrated Mimicking of thunder.
I know some friends who'd journey miles To see a bat's face wreathed in smiles, They say it's grandly funny! To see a buzzard drink port wine Another eager friend of mine Would pay no end of money.
But that which most appeals to me-- I know my taste may curious be-- Is--not a mouse in mittens. It is to see a homely cat, Dressed up in an old battered hat, A-walking with her kittens!
[Illustration: Mrs. Tabby and Her Kittens.]
"One would think from the verses, that you and Mr. Crow were very good friends," your Aunt Amy suggested, and Mrs. Mouser said with a purr of content:
"We have always got along very well together, and I hope we always shall, for really, say what you please about that old bird, it wouldn't be pleasant to have him making sport of you in his verses. We are neither of us as much in love with ourselves as were the peacock and the crane, therefore I don't fancy we shall ever have any very serious trouble."

A QUESTION OF BEAUTY.
"What about the peacock and the crane?" your Aunt Amy asked, not disposed to let slip any opportunity of hearing a story.
"Oh, that's something very, very old--why, my grandmother used to tell about it. You know the crane thinks he has got a pretty tail, and I'm not saying anything against it, for it is handsome; but this crane my grandmother used to tell about, had the idea that he was the finest looking bird who ever came out of an egg. He went around making a good deal of such talk as that, and one day he met with a peacock for the first time. Strangely enough, he had never heard about such a bird, so he strutted back and forth as usual, and after they had talked a while of the weather, and all that sort of thing, Mr. Crane said:
[Illustration: As Mr. Peacock spread his tail, Mr. Crane flew off in