“But they ain’t, Polly,” broke in Phronsie, suddenly sitting straight in Polly’s lap.
“I know, Pet; but these little things with the voices under the counter thought so, you see. And now I’m going to tell you all about it. Well, so out they crept—and they crept—and they crept”—
Joel and David huddled up as close as they could get to Polly, till they were almost in her lap—“And there, in the middle of the floor, were two little brown mice!”
Phronsie clapped her hands in glee.
“I’d rather have had a bear,” said Joel, falling back disappointed.
“I hadn’t,” said David; “go on, Polly, do.”
“And those two little brown mice didn’t seem to see Mr. Periwinkle and Mrs. Periwinkle and all the little Periwinkleses sitting round on their chairs and crickets, but they just danced off towards the big jar in the shop-window.”
“O Polly! are they going to take more pink and white sticks?” cried Phronsie, coming out of her glee, and looking very sober.
“You’ll see, Pet. Well, and in a minute out jumped from their hole under the counter Father and Mother Mice, oh! just as big as you please, and just as smart; and they said, ‘Wait, my children, you can’t move the jar, you’re too little;’ and with one spring apiece they were up on the shelf; and then they ran up on the top of the jar, and tumbled down inside among the pink and white sticks.”