ok my broth."

So the little brown Mouse was the little Red Man's servant, and every
day he made the little Red Man's bed and swept the little Red Man's room
and cooked the little Red Man's broth. And every day the little Red Man
went away through the tiny door, and did not come back till afternoon.
But he always locked the door after him, and carried away the key.

At last, one day he was in such a hurry that he turned the key before
the door was quite latched, which, of course, didn't lock it at all. He
went away without noticing,--he was in such a hurry.

The little Field Mouse knew that his chance had come to run away home.
But he didn't want to go without the pretty, shiny acorn. Where it was
he didn't know, so he looked everywhere. He opened every little drawer
and looked in, but it wasn't in any of the drawers; he peeped on every
shelf, but it wasn't on a shelf; he hunted in every closet, but it
wasn't in there. Finally, he climbed up on a chair and opened a wee, wee
door in the chimney-piece,--and there it was!

He took it quickly in his forepaws, and then he took it in his mouth,
and then he ran away. He pushed open the little door; he climbed up, up,
up the little stairs; he came out through the hole under the root; he
ran and ran through the fields; and at last he came to his own house.

When he was in his own house he set the shiny acorn on the table. I
expect he set it down hard, for all at once, with a little snap, it
opened!--exactly like a little box.

And what do you think! There was a tiny necklace inside! It was a most
beautiful tiny necklace, all made of jewels, and it was just big enough
for a lady mouse. So the little Field Mouse gave the tiny necklace to
his little Mouse-sister. She thought it was perfectly lovely. And when
she wasn't wearing it she kept it in the shiny acorn box.

And the little Red Man never knew what had become of it, because he
didn't know where the little Field Mouse lived.

ANOTHER LITTLE RED HEN[18]

Once upon a time there was a little Red Hen, who lived on a farm all by
herself. An old Fox, crafty and sly, had a den in the rocks, on a hill
near her house. Many and many a night this old Fox used to lie awake
and think to himself how good that little Red Hen would taste if he
could once get her in his big kettle and boil her for dinner. But he
couldn't catch the little Red Hen, because she was too wise for him.
Every time she went out to market she locked th