Ah! here was something particularly good to-day. A large iced cake stood far back upon the shelf, and Greywhiskers licked his lips as he sniffed it. Across the top of the cake there were words written in pink sugar; but as Greywhiskers could not read, he did not know that he was nibbling at little Miss Ethel’s birthday cake. But he did feel a little guilty when he heard his mother calling. Off he ran, and was back in the nest again by the time his mother had finished rubbing her eyes after her nap.
She took Greywhiskers up to the pantry then, and when she saw the hole in the cake she seemed a little annoyed.
“Some mouse has evidently been here before us,” she said, but of course she never guessed that it was her own little son.
The next day the naughty little mouse again popped up to the pantry when his mother was asleep; but at first he could find nothing at all to eat, though there was a most delicious smell of toasted cheese.
Presently he found a dear little wooden house, and there hung the cheese, just inside it.
In ran Greywhiskers, but, oh! “click” went the little wooden house, and mousie was caught fast in a trap.
When the morning came, the cook, who had set the trap, lifted it from the shelf, and then called a pretty little girl to come and see the thief who had eaten her cake.
“What are you going to do with him?” asked Ethel.
“Why, drown him, my dear, to be sure.”