Adam would never hav bin fit tew kontend with the job ov gitting a living outside the garden if he hadn’t trapped suckcessfully for a mouse.
Ketching a mouse iz the fust cunning thing that every man duz.
Mice are the epitome of shrewdness; their faces beam with sharp praktiss; their little noses smell ov cunning, and their little black-beaded eyes titter with pettit larceny.
They are az cheerful az the criket on the harth. I should be afrade tew buy a house that hadn’t a mouse-hole in it.
I like tew see them shoot out ov their hole in the korner, like a wad out ov a pop-gun, and stream akross the nursery, and to hear one nibble in the wainscot, in the midst ov the night, takes the death out ov silence.
Mice alwus move into a new house fust, and are there reddy tew receive and welkum the rest ov the family.
They are more ornamental than useful, ackording to the best informashun we hav az yet; but this iz the case with most things.
Mice cum into this world tew seek their fortune, four at a time, and lay in their little kradles ov cotton or wool, like bits ov rare-dun meat, for a month, with not a rag on them.
When they dine, they do it jist az a family ov yung piggs duz: each one at their own particular spot at the table, and it is seldum that yu see better-behaved boarders, or them that understand their bizzness more thoroughly.
I hav seen them at their meals, and i will take mi oath that everything iz orderly, and az strikly on the square, as a checker-board.