outside to pick up."

"Certainly it has arrived," said the rat. "I ought to know, seeing that
I came with it."

"Did you come with the case?" cried the house-mouse, in surprise.

"I did," said the rat. "I was down at the bottom when they began to pack
it. It was half-dark, so they couldn't see me; and, of course, I did
not make the slightest sound and did not dare to move, or else they
would have discovered me and killed me. So gradually they packed
everything on the top of me: sugar and coffee and tea and cinnamon and
chocolate and starch and all sorts of groceries, until the case was full
up. Then on with the lid and away with us to the station."

"That must have been a nice journey," said the house-mouse, licking her
lips.

"It was," said the rat. "In a way. The fare was good enough and ready to
hand, as you can see, and no one to share it with and no one to disturb
you. But the tiresome side of the business was that I had just been
married and was soon to have my babies. So I was particularly frightened
lest they should arrive during the journey. However, it went pretty well
and we escaped all right, as you see, because the case was not unpacked
at once. Well, even if it had been, I daresay I should have managed to
jump past them. But it's better as it is. I have fixed up a nice home
for myself here, under the floor of the barn, and the youngsters may
come as soon as they like. Would you care to see where I live?"

"Thank you," said the mouse. "I should prefer first to see a little of
that delicious sugar running about. What a lot of it there is!"

"Eat away," said the rat. "There's plenty of it. I'll stand treat. But I
may as well tell you that later on, when I am properly settled, you and
I had better keep to our own parts. I mean, of course, it might happen
that I should pop across to the larder, when I feel inclined and have
occasion to. But I strongly advise you not to come here. And you must be
particularly careful to avoid me when I'm hungry. I can't answer for
what might happen if I met you."

"Well, you would never eat me!" said the mouse, sitting and licking the
sugar. "Goodness me, how delicious this is!"

"Of course, I should eat you," replied the rat. "Up at Copenhagen, one
day, we ate a kitten."

"A kitten?"

The mouse was so frightened that she stopped licking altogether.

"Yes, certainly," said the rat. "It was quite simple; and not one of us
had the stomach-ache. That fear of the cats