Then Rosy travelled along till she came to a desert. Hundreds of miles of hot sand, with no trees or brooks or houses.
"I never can go that way," she said; "I should starve, and soon be worn out walking in that hot sand. What shall I do?"
"Quee, quee!
Wait and see:
You were good to me;
So here I come,
From my little home,
To help you willingly,"
said a friendly voice; and there was the mouse, looking at her with its bright eyes full of gratitude.
"Why, you dear little thing, I'm very glad to see you; but I'm sure you can't help me across this desert," said Rosy, stroking its soft back.
"That's easy enough," answered the mouse, rubbing its paws briskly. "I'll just call my friend the lion; he lives here, and he'll take you across with pleasure."
"Oh, I'm afraid he'd rather eat me. How dare you call that fierce beast?" cried Rosy, much surprised.
"I gnawed him out of a net once, and he promised to help me. He is a noble animal, and he will keep his word."
Then the mouse sang, in its shrill little voice,—
"O lion, grand,
Come over the sand,
And help me now, I pray!
Here's a little lass,
Who wants to pass;
Please carry her on her way."