The Tale of Master Meadow Mouse

by Arthur Scott Bailey

"Have you had it?"

"Not yet!" Master Meadow Mouse told him. "And I believe I'll wait till to-morrow."

"The water's fine to-day," said Peter Mink. "I've been in and out of it forty times."

But Master Meadow Mouse wasn't to be persuaded so easily.

"I might spoil your fishing if I went in now," he remarked.

"I don't care if you do," said Peter Mink. "The pleasure of seeing you enjoy a swim would more than repay me for the loss of the biggest fish in this brook."

Now, such speeches sounded very strange, coming from the mouth of a surly rascal like Peter Mink, who was never known to do anybody a good turn. Master Meadow Mouse pondered over this last statement. There seemed to be a catch in it somewhere. And he decided, finally, that he had discovered it.

"I didn't know there were any fish in this brook worth catching," he piped. "They say there were trout here once. But now there's nothing bigger than a minnow."

Peter Mink nodded. "That's the truth," he said. "If this brook has a fish that's as meaty as you are, I've never seen him."

"Ah!" cried Master Meadow Mouse. "You'd far rather catch me than catch a fish in this pool."