Some boys who were playing in the street came running up to the house at the cry of fire.
"Get a move on!" cried Polly, dancing about in her cage and trying her best to open the door.
"Where's the fire?" asked one of the boys.
"Get busy!" screamed Polly, as she pulled herself up to the top of the cage.
Just then a wagon came tearing down the street. "Whoa!" cried Polly, and, sure enough, the horses stopped in front of the house.
The driver saw the smoke, and he went to work in a hurry, tearing off the clapboards, and showing the boys where to pour water in between the walls, until the fire was all out.
When the man had gone away, and everything was quiet, Mr. Brown Rat came creeping out of the hole, wet and bedraggled, with his whiskers all burned off.
Polly caught sight of him in a moment. "You rascal," she screamed, "you set that fire. You ought to know better than to build a house with matches."
"I do now, and I'll never do it again, never again," replied Brownie meekly, as he went limping away.
Why did the brown rat come out on the back porch?
How did he build his nest?
Of what material was it constructed?
Why do rats like matches?
Why is it dangerous to leave matches scattered around the house?