Jazbury crouched down in the shadow of the kettle as his aunt bade him, and kept perfectly quiet with his eyes fixed on the hole. Not even a whisker stirred. He did wish he could catch that mouse, if only to show Aunt Tabby what he could do if he chose. How pleased and surprised she and his mother would be if he were really to get one. Outside the kitchen was very still. The clock tick-tocked and the kettle simmered on the stove.
Suddenly Jazbury heard a little scratching, scraping sound back of one of the pots. It was so very little and faint that only a cat's ears could have heard it. Jazbury's eyes grew round, and his muscles stiffened ready for a leap.
Suddenly out from behind the pot whined a winged grasshopper. It flew so close to Jazbury it almost brushed his nose.
Forgetting all about the mouse, Jazbury made a leap for it. He knocked against a tin pan that clattered down with a tremendous din. At the same moment a little grey shape flitted out from behind him like a tiny shadow, slipped across the floor and disappeared down the mouse-hole. It was the mouse, and Jazbury had lost it.
He knocked against a tin pan that clattered
down with a tremendous din
Almost at the same moment Jazbury received a sharp box on the ear that almost upset him.
"You bad boy!" cried his aunt. "I'm just all out of patience with you. Even when a mouse runs right by under your nose you can't catch it."
Jazbury began to mew. "Well, you don't have to box my ears, anyway. I couldn't help it."
"Yes, you could. That's what provokes me so. Fluffy's not half as quick and active as you, and look at the way he catches mice. I'm ashamed of you."