“Why don’t you use it, then? Did you leave it at home?”
“No, Miss Jewett.”
“Where is it? Have you lent it?”
“No, Miss Jewett, I haven’t lent it.”
“Then if you have it why don’t you use it? Has anything happened to it?”
“No, Miss Jewett.” Elizabeth was becoming confused.
Miss Jewett glanced down at the desk and saw that it was a crack open. The mouse by this time had settled down comfortably and was making no stir; yet Miss Jewett felt that something was not exactly right. “Open your desk and get out your book, Elizabeth,” said Miss Jewett in a matter-of-fact way. “Don’t let us have any more talk about it.”
Elizabeth’s face turned scarlet but she made no movement to obey, she only murmured, “I can’t,” hanging her head as she spoke. Why didn’t she say more? Why didn’t she say: I can’t, because there is a mouse in my desk and I don’t want it to scare you and the school? Who knows why she did not? It was certainly very stupid of her not to, but then very bright girls can be very stupid sometimes.
The teacher waited for the space of a minute; then she lifted the lid of the desk and out sprang the mouse. Miss Jewett gave a small shriek and fled to the platform. The girls all gave louder shrieks and jumped up on their chairs, at least most of them did; some of the boys did too. Others began to chase the mouse who was running wildly from corner to corner.
In a moment or two Miss Jewett had regained her self-possession. “Open the door, boys, and it will find its way out,” she said. “Sit down, girls. It was rather startling, I admit; but there is nothing to be afraid of.”