On another day Tom was unable to find a story-book he had been reading.
"I'm sure I put it back in the bookcase," he said.
"Isn't it there now?" asked his mother.
"No!"
"Then Mr. Nobody must have been reading it," she answered. "He always forgets to put the books back where they belong. Perhaps he left it on the lounge, where you were reading last night."
And there, to be sure, in a corner of the lounge, was the lost book.
In Tom's house Mr. Nobody was always doing mischief. He was always mislaying Tom's things. He was always tearing his books, leaving doors ajar, and making finger marks on the doors. Now and then he spilled the ink on Tom's desk. He usually forgot to put Tom's boots where they belonged. He was so careless and forgetful that he got Tom into trouble nearly every day.
Does Mr. Nobody visit your house, too? If he does, you will understand the following poem about him:
MR. NOBODY
I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.