Mouser Cats Story | Page 4

out in
the rain, And didn't know what they should do.
But they presently came to the trunk of a tree, And there they all stayed
for the night; But they never forgot that old, cross Mrs. Toad, Who
gave them so dreadful a fright!"
"Mrs. Toad certainly succeeded in raising quite a disturbance," your

Aunt Amy said, feeling it necessary to make some comment, and Mrs.
Mouser replied thoughtfully:

MR. THOMAS CAT'S NARROW ESCAPE.
"Yes, almost as much as Mr. Man did when he tried to drown Mr.
Thomas Cat the other day. 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