de my hole for me. And the forester and the cat
are both so old that they positively can't see when I run through the
room. And yesterday an old lady arrived whose name is Petronella. And
she's as frightened of me as though she were a mouse and I a cat. When
she sees me, she screams and gathers up her skirts and jumps on a
chair, old as she is. This amuses the young lady who gives me the sugar
immensely, so I like doing it. And, for the matter of that, I needn't
even trouble to come out. This morning, I was sitting in my hole while
they were drinking tea. Then my young mistress cried, 'There's the
mouse!' and in a jiffy Aunt Petronella was up on the chair, though I
wasn't there at all. I tell you, it's great fun."

[Illustration]

"I daresay, cousin," said the wood-mouse. "And I'm very glad indeed that
you've such a good time."

"And haven't you just as good a time?" asked the house-mouse. "Living in
the green wood and hearing the birds sing all day long? No cat and no
mouse-traps?"

"Yes, it's all right about the birds," said the wood-mouse. "And about
the cats too. But you mustn't think on that account, cousin, that this
is a sort of paradise. I hear very little of the birds down where I
live; and I may as well admit that I don't bother my head about them.
Besides, there are one or two awkward customers among them, such as the
crow, for instance, and the rook and the jackdaw, who all belong to the
same family. Not to speak of the stork and the buzzard, for whom a
wood-mouse is a mere mouthful."

"Yes, I know," said the house-mouse. "Well, we all have our worries.
And, at any rate, you don't have the cat. She's the trickiest of the
lot."

"Is she?" said the wood-mouse. "Well, you may be right. But we have the
fox out here, you know, who is pretty cunning, in addition to the marten
and the polecats, who are the blood-thirstiest animals that you can
think of. No, taken all round, believe me, it's not so pleasant to be a
wood-mouse. And it's very likely that what is your good fortune is just
my misfortune!"

"Why, how can that be, cousin?" asked the house-mouse. "I can't
understand it and I should be sorry to think so."

"Well, you see, it's not a thing that _you_ can help," said the
wood-mouse. "Heaven forbid! You have always been a first-rate cousin; I
don't deny it for a moment. But I expect the reason why you have a good
time is that you live with an old gentleman like your forester. The
natural consequence