"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 is very much overdone. They can do nothing, so long as you eat them while they are small."
The house-mouse stared at her in dismay:
"Cousin," she said, "you're terrible. I'm afraid of you."