noise prevented him from sleeping. In a few days he grew so thin that Johnny Town-mouse noticed it, and questioned him. He listened to Timmy Willie's story and inquired about the garden. "It sounds rather a dull place? What do you do when it rains?"
"When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and seeds from my Autumn store. I peep out at the throstles and blackbirds on the lawn, and my friend Cock Robin. And when the sun comes out again, you should see my garden and the flowers--roses and pinks and pansies--no noise except the birds and bees, and the lambs in the meadows."
"There goes that cat again!" exclaimed Johnny Town-mouse. When they had taken refuge in the coal-cellar he resumed the conversation; "I confess I am a little disappointed; we have endeavoured to entertain you, Timothy William."
"Oh yes, yes, you have been most kind; but I do feel so ill," said Timmy Willie.
"It may be that your teeth and digestion are unaccustomed to our food; perhaps it might be wiser for you to return in the hamper."
"Oh? Oh!" cried Timmy Willie.
"Why of course for the matter of that we could have sent you back last week," said Johnny rather huffily--"did you not know that the hamper goes back empty on Saturdays?"
So Timmy Willie said good-bye to his new friends, and hid in the hamper with a crumb of cake and a withered cabbage leaf; and after much jolting, he was set down safely in his own garden.
Sometimes on Saturdays he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate, but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out, though Johnny Town-mouse had half promised a visit.
The winter passed; the sun came out again; Timmy Willie sat by his burrow warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of violets and spring grass. He had nearly forgotten his visit to town. When up the sandy path all spick and span with a brown leather bag came Johnny Town-mouse!
Timmy Willie received him with open arms. "You have come at the best of all the year, we will have herb pudding and sit in the sun."
"H'm'm! it is a little damp," said Johnny Town-mouse, who was carrying his tail under his arm, out of the mud.
"What is that fearful noise?" he started violently.
"That?" said Timmy Willie, "that is only a cow; I will beg a little milk, they are quite harmless, unless they happen to lie down upon you. How are all our friends?"
Johnny's account was rather middling. He explained why he was paying his visit so early in the season; the family had gone to the sea-side for Easter; the cook was doing spring cleaning, on board wages, with particular instructions to clear out the mice. There were four kittens, and the cat had killed the canary.
"They say we did it; but I know better," said Johnny Town-mouse. "Whatever is that fearful racket?"
"That is only the lawn-mower; I will fetch some of the grass clippings presently to make your bed. I am sure you had better settle in the country, Johnny."
"H'm'm--we shall see by Tuesday week; the hamper is stopped while they are at the sea-side."
"I am sure you will never want to live in town again," said Timmy Willie.
But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables; he said it was too quiet!!
One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my part I prefer to live in the country, like Timmy Willie.
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