“Thank you, Mr. Brown,” Janet replied.
I can't call him by his first name,
she thought,
because I don't know what it is, and I don't really want to ask him. Perhaps we'll never know what it is.
“There's lots of food around, too,” she said.
“Which means,” said John, “that there'll be lots of other house mice around,” and at that very moment, a mouse came out through a hole in the molding.
“You're right, mate,” he said to John, “but there's plenty for all of us. The giants here are lovely people, especially the smallest one of the three. No catsâas you can smellâno dogs, no traps, no poison, and they leave food all over the place. You've struck lucky, you lot. Welcome to Liberty Hall!”
“He seemed a happy sort of chap,” said John to Janet as the mouse disappeared down its hole. “Don't you think so, Mr. Brown?”
“I think,” said Mr. Brown, “that he and his fellows have plenty to be happy about. He's rightâwe have struck lucky.”
For the rest of that night, they all explored the
Mousery. None of the fancy mice were as rude as the first pink-eyed white buck had been, but all were a bit standoffish.
“Shouldn't we get moving?” asked Janet as the first light of dawn came in through the window. “We don't want one of the giants to come and find us in here.”
“Why not, Mom?” asked Beaumont.
“Because they might not want nine more mice in their house,” said Janet. “Let's all go down that hole in the molding and find where it leads.”
So they all did. As they made their way down, their sharp ears heard a lot of mouse noises. There were runways through which came sounds of mice, above and below them. They came at last to the cellar of number 16, in which there were a good many mice, all of whom greeted the
newcomers in a friendly fashion.
Above their heads, Bill Black came into the Mousery in his pajamas (his bedroom was next door) to give his pets their breakfast. He filled the food dish in each cage with canary seed, made sure that all the mice had clean water to drink, and, of course, talked to the occupants of every cage. Bill was sure that pets like dogs and cats enjoyed being talked to, so why should mice be any different?
In the last cage was a
chocolate doe, all by herself because she was soon to have babies. Bill took a very small bit of broken cookie from a tin and put it down in front of her nose.
“D'you know,” he said to her, “what I'd love to do? I'd love to tame a wild mouse. I bet noone's ever done that. I'd have to catch one first thoughâa young one.” Even as he said these last words, Bill heard a little scratching noise, and there, coming out of the hole in the molding, was a young house mouse.
Beaumont, the brightest, most adventurous, and now indeed the boldest of John and Janet's six children, had heard the sound of Bill's voice from the cellar below and had scuttled back up the runway to see what a giant looked like. Never in his short life had he seen one before.
How strange!
thought Bill.
Just the kind of mouse that I need, but how do I catch it?
Very slowly, he took another piece of cookie
from the tin. Very slowly, he moved toward the young mouse, who crouched by the hole below, whiskers twitching. Very slowly, Bill Black offered the piece of cookie to Beaumont Robinson.
They looked into each other's eyes and each had much the same feelings. They liked the look of one another.
This is a very bold little house mouse
, thought Bill.
Could I make a pet of him?
This is a very nice giant
, thought Beaumont.
I'm not afraid of him at all.
He took a bite of cookie.
“Delicious!” he said.
All Bill heard, of course, was a squeak, but it sounded like a happy squeak. Suddenly, the young mouse turned and disappeared down the hole.
“Dad!” cried Beaumont as he reached the cellar. “There's ever such a nice giant up above us. He gave me a lovely piece of cookie. Come up and see him!” and he turned and dashed up the runway again, followed by Ambrose and Camilla and Desdemona and Eustace and Felicity.
After them went Janet, calling, “Come back, children!” and after her went John, calling, “Come back, Janet!”
To his surprise, Bill found himself looking at five more mousekins, and then to his astonishment, two adult mice emerged from the hole.
Mom and Dad and six kids
, he thought, and crumbled more cookie on the floor. They were all feeding greedily when another mouse came up out of the hole, a mouse that, Bill could see, looked very old and was a bit wobbly on its legs. Immediately the mousekins surrounded it, squeaking happily.
Must be the grandfather,
thought Bill. How could he know that they were all saying, “Come on, Uncle Brown! Have some cookie!” or that Janet and John were saying, “Yes, help yourself, Mr. Brown”?
The mice listened as the giant made noises. How could they know that he was saying, “What a lovely family! Wherever did you come from? Would you like me to make you a special home, here in the Mousery? I don't mean a cage, I don't want to shut you up, but somewhere comfy and warm for you? How would you like that?”