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Page 183—Mousey Land
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A Clever and Good Mother Mouse One Summer day the sun shone bright, Mid sweet flowers roved the bee, And I wandered in a garden old Beside the deep blue sea. But close at hand, a shady path, Beneath some beech trees wound, And there. that sultry summer day, A pleasant seat I found. Suddenly, just beside my chair, A little sound I heard; A scratch upon the gravel path, As of a mouse or bird. I turned my head; there, on the path, What strange sight did I see! A little mouse, and in her mouth Another still more wee. Softly she crept across the path, And then, her journey done, In a hole beneath the green grass verge She laid her little one. And back and forth from side to side, I watched her carry five Sweet little mice, her own dear brood, Long tailed, and all alive. She never wearied in her work, Yet oh! so small was she! And thus, that bright, hot summer day She moved her nursery. Dear mother mouse! My verse has told Your patient loving deed; Methinks our boys and girls may learn Some lessons as they read. Francis E. Cooke |
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The True History of a Poor Little Mouse A poor little mouse Had once made him a nest, And he fancied, the warmest, And safest, and best, That a poor little mouse could enjoy; So snug and convenient, So out of the way. This poor little mouse And his family lay, They fear'd neither pussy nor boy. It was in a store That was seldom in use, Where shavings and papers Were scattered in loose, That this poor little mouse made his hole, But alas! Master Johnny Had seen him one day, As in a great fright He had scampered away, With a piece of plum pudding he stole. As soon as young Johnny (Who, wicked and bad, No pitiful thoughts For dumb animals had) Descried the poor fellow's retreat, He crept to the shavings And set them alight, And, before the poor mouse Could run off in its fright, It was smother'd to death in the heat! Poor mouse! how it squeak'd I can't bear to relate, Nor how its poor little Ones hopp'd in the grate, And died, one by one, in the flame! I should not much wonder To hear, that, some night, This wicked boy's bed-curtains Catching alight, He suffered exactly the same. Ann Taylor |
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The Mouse's Call A little mouse crept out one day, When all was still about; To dollie's house he took his way, The lady being out. He skipped about with bead-bright eyes From table down to chair; He thought the house was just the size For him to settle there. He found some jelly cake so nice, This naughty little mouse; He nibbled first, then in a trice 'Twas gone from dollie's house. He curl'd himself upon the floor, To have a little nap, When suddenly upon the floor There came a fearful rap. The mouse who had not left a crumb, With fear began to shake, For dollie's mistress back had come To get her piece of cake. She opened wide the little house, Her doll lay on her arm, And when she spied the trembling mouse She cried out with alarm. She tumbled back upon the ground, Her dear doll falling too, While the mouse went rushing round, Not knowing what to do. At last he tumbled down the stair, Then to his hole he flew; And which did most the other scare They never, never knew. |
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