"'That's for you to climb out by, after you've taken a bath. For you to go abroad in Summer with a coat like yours would mean certain death. So I'm going to dye you black.'
"'Jumping Cheese!' I cried. 'Dye me black!'
"'Just that,' says he. 'It's quite simple. Scale up that middle vat now—on to the edge—and dive right in. Don't be afraid. There's a string there for you to climb out by.'
"Well, I was always adventurous by nature. And, plucking up my courage, I scrambled up the vat, on to the edge of it. It was awful dark and I could just see the dye, glimmering murky and dim, far down inside.
"'Go ahead,' said the old rat. 'Don't be afraid—and be sure you dip your head and all under.'
"Well, it took an awful lot of nerve to take that plunge. And if I hadn't been in love I don't suppose I'd ever have done it. But I did—I dove right down into the dye.
"I thought I'd never come up again, and even when I did I nearly drowned before I found the string in the dark and scrambled, gasping for breath, out of the vat.
"'Fine!' says the old rat. 'Now run around the shed a few times, so you won't take a chill. And then go to bed and cover up. In the morning when it's light you'll find yourself very different.'
"Well—tears come to my eyes when I think of it—the next day, when I woke up, expecting to find myself a smart, decent black, I found instead that I had dyed myself a bright and gaudy blue! That stupid old rat had made a mistake in the vats!"
The white mouse paused a moment in his story, as though overcome with emotion. Presently he went on: