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THE GHOST OF THE WAINSCOT
A LITTLE wire cage stood in a certain shop-window, and in it were two white mice, the funniest little fellows, with snow-white fur coats and pink, trembly noses, having long, silky, white whiskers, and eyes like tiny red jewels. All the school children had a way of stopping on their way to and from school to visit the white mice. They would stand close to the great glass window, pressing their noses quite flat against the pane, as they watched with delight the funny capers of the white mice, Fluff and Muff, for thus the children had named them. Fluff was the larger mouse, and he would spend hours whirling about in the small wire wheel, going so swiftly at times that all the children could make out was just a round ball of white fur revolving in space.
The wheel had a way of creak, creak, creaking merrily whenever Fluff whirled very fast, and, to tell the truth, this creaking was not wholly unmusical; and it had such a queer effect upon Muff, who apparently had an ear for music, that she would instantly commence a giddy sort of dance, all by herself, whirling madly around to the strange accompaniment of the creaking wheel just so long as Fluff kept up the music. All day long the two white mice frolicked together, only nestling down for short naps in their white cotton wool bed when they were quite exhausted. All this was entertaining to the children, who never wearied watching their antics. But one morning when they stopped at the great window, as usual, there was no wire cage with white mice in its customary place between the glasses of pickled limes and lollipops; in fact, the mice were gone.
So one boy, somewhat braver than the rest, volunteered to go into the shop and find out what had become of their favorites; indeed, if the truth were known, this boy had been saving up his pennies for a week in hopes that he might finally have enough to buy the white mice. Just as soon as he entered the shop he knew something dreadful had happened, even before he asked the shopkeeper, for right upon the counter lay the wire cage, broken and bent, its door gone, and the whirling wheel wrenched from its socket. The man told him that the cat had done it; had been shut into the store over night by mistake. So the boy, feeling very sad, just bought lollipops for his money, instead of saving up any longer for the mice, and went to school.
Now this is actually what did happen the night before, only the shopkeeper knew nothing about it, of course. When the great wooden shutters had been put up for the night, and all lights put out in the shop, it became very dark and still; to be sure the tortoise-shell cat had skulked between the shopkeeper’s legs somehow, and slipped in slyly without his being aware of it. But, as it happened, she had not sneaked in for white mice; back of a certain barrel, over in the corner, she knew of a rat hole. That was what she had in mind all the time. She was not specially interested in white mice; she thought them freaks, at best.