her chief concern for three days past.

"Did you ever _shriek_?" he cried.

"No," she replied; "but I shall do if you can't be less clumsy."

He looked at her in amazement. Then the truth burst upon him. He was the
father of seven, and was awkwardly seated upon three of them.

* * * * *

She had been a good wife to him, this first. He had three especial
favourites, the first, the third, and the sixth, but it was unquestionably
the first that he had been the most proud of. She was a veritable queen
among mice, and he had fought five suitors to win her. The madness of it!
He had gone from basement to ceiling, challenging all and sundry who
ventured to dispute his claim. But she was worth it. All he knew of
house-life he had learnt from her. It was she who showed him the way to
rob a trap. First she would sit upon the spring-door and satisfy herself
that it was not lightly set, then with flattened body she would steal
beneath it, and push, instead of pull, the bait.

[Illustration: FIRST SHE WOULD SIT UPON THE SPRING-DOOR.]

Under her guidance he learnt every nook and corner of the rambling house,
the swiftest ways from garret to cellar, the entrances and exits of the
runs, their sudden drops and windings, and all the thousand intricacies of
architecture that make life under one roof possible for both mice and men.

[Illustration: THEN WITH FLATTENED BODY SHE WOULD STEAL BENEATH IT.]

He learnt, moreover, from her that fighting the cat was merely a game of
patience, and that even the human male has a warm corner in his heart for
the mouse that is bold enough to approach him.

And yet she fell a victim to the cat herself. It was out of pure bravado
that she crossed its tail to prove that a cat with its eye on a mouse-hole
has no eye for anything else.

He, too, had been in the cat's clutches once. It was hardly to his
discredit. He had been with his wife at the time, had heard the sneaking
footfall, and was in the act of pushing her into shelter when he felt
himself pinned down.

The moment the cat's paw touched him he had relaxed every muscle and
feigned death. The ruse succeeded. The cat loosened her hold, and he had
a two-yard run before he was pinned afresh.

Then he was flung into the air and caught like a ball, dashed aside and
caught again, and swung, and twirled, and shaken, until he was too dazed
to move a limb, and lay, a yard away from his tormentor, staring stupidly