Just then a small brown mouse came out of his hole, and ran away very fast. Frank was a kind boy, and would not let Dash run after it and kill it, as he wished. He held his dog tight, and sat down near the spot, to see if the mouse would come back; but as it did not, he ran in-doors to tell his mamma what he had seen.
“It was such a nice little mouse, mamma, with a very long tail; and it ran away at a great rate.”
“Yes, my dear,” said Mrs. Dean, “the field-mouse is very quick and can leap well. It does much harm in the fields and gardens, and to the ricks of corn, and is often found in farm-yards. Owls, kites, dogs, and cats make war against the poor field-mouse, and I fear that men do so too.”
“Poor thing!” said Frank; “I am sure I would not kill one, for I like to see them run in and out of their holes.”
“In its nest in the ground,” said Mrs. Dean, “or under a bunch of moss, it hoards up its store of food before the cold days come: sometimes it finds out the holes which the mole has left, and lives in them.”
“How sly,” said Frank, “not to make a place of his own! Thank you, dear mamma, for this tale about him.”
A TRUE TALE
OF A
LITTLE GIRL WHO FELL INTO A TAN-PIT.
Now I will tell you a tale about a little girl, whom we will call Anne Grey, though that was not her real name. Anne was very fond of her doll, for she had no little boys or girls of her own age to play with.
Like some other dolls, I know, (and some little girls too,) its clothes were apt to get dirty, and Anne thought it would be great fun to put Miss Dolly to bed for the day, while she washed them up. Well, once, when the maids were busy in the wash-house, Anne thought it just the right time for her to begin, so she set to work in great glee. When all the clothes were nice and clean, she went to the garden to look for a place where she could hang them up to dry. She soon found one to suit her; tied up a line, and went back to the house for the things.
Her way to and from the garden led through a tan-yard, and the busy little girl, in her haste to push by the edge of one of the pits, fell splash in, with all her doll’s clean clothes in her hand. What was to be done now? there she was, up to her chin in the nasty brown water, and she could not get out. Old Mrs. Bigg, who was at work just by, heard the poor child cry, and ran to help her.