's where you live," said the forester's daughter. "That's all
right. Now you will see I shall remember my promise."

In the evening she put a lump of sugar there and she did so every
evening before she went to bed. And, every morning, the mouse had
fetched the sugar. And, when, one day, she heard a squeaking behind the
wainscot, she guessed that the little mouse had now got children; and,
from that day, she put two lumps of sugar for her every evening.

[Illustration]

The mouse, therefore, could not complain of the people she lived with
and no more she did. Add to this that the only cat that the forester's
house contained was an enormous old ginger tom who could no longer
either see or hear. He had been there in the forester's wife's day. She
was dead now. And, as she had been fond of him, he was allowed to live
and eat the bread of charity in the forester's house, though he was no
longer of the least use. And, as he could not tolerate other and younger
cats, there was no other cat in the place, which of course was a great
source of joy to the mouse, who often ran right under the old ginger
tomcat's nose, without his noticing her.

2

One day, the mouse was sitting outside the hole that led to the wood. It
was in the month of August and it was warm and pleasant and she sat
basking in the sun with the greatest enjoyment, the more so as she had
just given birth to seven blind children, which is no joke, as any
mother will tell you. And, as she sat there, the wood-mouse came out of
her house under the root of the beech.

"Good-afternoon, cousin," said the house-mouse.

"The same to you, cousin," said the wood-mouse.

"A fine sunny day," said the house-mouse.

"The same to you, cousin," said the wood-mouse.

When they had greeted each other in this fashion, they sat and looked at
each other for a little while. The house-mouse moved her big ears to and
fro; and the wood-mouse did the same, out of courtesy, but her ears were
not nearly so big. On the other hand, she had more hairs in her tail
than her cousin, so that pretty well made up for the ears. Then the
house-mouse said:

"Life is lovely."

"Do you think so, cousin?" said the wood-mouse.

And she looked as though she were of a very different opinion, but too
polite to say so outright.

"Yes, I do, cousin," replied the house-mouse. "I have just got my last
seven youngsters off my hands. And every evening the young mistress puts
a piece of sugar outsi