GRANNY MEADOW MOUSE.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 180, 1 August 1925, Page 26

GRANNY MEADOW MOUSE.

Granny tiptoed carefully through the doorway and along the hall and peeped into the big room where Mr. Fox was on the bed. And behind her were all the little mice. They didn't want to - miss anything, so they stole in after her. When Mr. Fox turned his head to look, there he saw all the bright little eyes looking at him. "That is right," he groaned, "tell all the mice in tha meadow so they can come and laugh at mc in my misery." "You look hungry, Mr. Fox," said Granny kindly. "How would you like a cup of nice hot porridge?" "Porridge!" exclaimed Mr. For, rolling up his eyes. "How I would love— here, you all get right out of here, making sport pi a poor lame creature. Oh, Oh, Oh," he groaned, for again he forgot and tried to get out of bed. Pretty soon Granny had the water boiling in a kettle on the stove and tha little mice saw her stirring in oatmeal. And Mr. Fox saw her, too, but he conld hardly believe his eyes. Here was Granny Meadow Mouse making porridge 1 for him and he had always made life miserable for her and all of her relatives. Sir. Fox did not say a word. He was too astonished to speak as he watched Granny Meadow Mouse get the tin dipper and put it in the kettle. And then, taking the kettle from the stove, she placed it on the floor and with the broomstick she carefully shoved the kettle towards his bed. He did not even thank her as he watched her with the little mice go out of his home, but as their footsteps died away he. reached for the dipper and after' taking a good long drink of the porridge he said, "If ever I do chase another Meadow Mouse it will not be in the meadow where Granny and her relatives live. And I think I shall live on porridge the rest of my days. _\j i how good that does taste!" "Granny, why did you make the porridge for bad Mr. Fox?" asked the little mice as they ran home beside Granny. "A little kindness now and then is relished by the worst Of men," replied Granny with a wise look on her happy face. The little mice did not ask any'mors questions, for they were hungry and thinking more about their dinner than about Mr. Fox. A FEW RIDDLES. Why is a pig the most peculiar of all animals? —Because it is killed first and "cured" afterwards. Why would an eagle be offended if you called him a pheasant?—-Because it would be making "game" of him. John: I say, Jim, how do you get down from an elephant's back? Jim: Step down, I suppose. John: No! You don't get down from an elephant, you get it from a goose. SHE WAS SO POLITE. The small girl was paying her first visit alone, and was drilled carefully, beforehand by her. mother as to how she was to behave. "If they ask you to dine with them," the mother said, "you must say, *Nq thank you, I have already dined.'" The child listened attentively, and accordingly, when her little friend's father said, "Come along, Molly, you must have a bit with us," she remembered her mother's instructions, and said in a polite and dignified,manner:—" "No, thank you, I have already bitten.' THE WIND AT PLAT. (Written for "The Christian Science Monitor.") The wind Is having sport to-day, It scurries through the leaves. It peeks through all the window-chinks, ' And runs across the eaves. It rattles against the window-sash, With all its might and main, It puffs its cheeks and takes a breath-^ And whisks away again. It dances upon the threshold, - And edges through the door; It whirls both up and down the stairs, _ , And leaps across the floor. It tiptoes down the garden walk, Stops short —and then it goes And pulls and tugs at Katie's skirts, As she's hanging up the clothes. It chuckles softly to itself, And whispers, "This Is fine! 'VvV I'll just see how many clothes Will shake right off the linel" It skips around a chimney-top, And loud its laugh is heard, r , It whistles through the leafless trees, / And wakes a drowsy bird. It sighs aloud quite suddenly. For how It's tired of play; It gives itself a little shake, And then —It runs away! *T • SYLVIA VOORHEES. '.' / THE MAN I MET. Hla coat was ragged and green as green f His boots were broken, not fit to be seen; His hat a covering ,jnight have been Long ago-. / A pitiful object? Surely not. He didn't care about clothes a jot, Xor whether green coats were the fashion; | or not. Dear mc, no I Hts the glory of dawn to view, J Shafts ot sunlight on fields of dew; ' All the secrets of earth he knew — ■ Half of heaven. His for company, mouse and hare; Friends he'd charm from the loneliest lair, AU the treasure he held to Share, Gaily given. A pitiful object, this ? Ah, no ! •They troubled him little, his tattered ol« clo\ As ever he troubled the tlmidest crow, -Stealing corn. To wake at dawn with the rising sun, To rest in his glow when the day Is done-i Who shall say that a scarecrow's one AU forlorn? GRANDPA AND I. The barn that Grandpa has Is red, With doors all painted brown. It stands across a sunny road That leads you straight to town. . I always go with Grandpa dear, When he sets out to milk, nd J? at the Pretty-coloured cows, With coats as soft as silk. I love the cunning baby calves, And all the piggies, too. I often beg to pull their tails, To see what they will do. But Grandpa says it isn't best, For Mother Pig might hear, And piggies often squeal, Although they never shed a tear. I love to walk about the farm, And wish that I could stay With Grandpa and the cows and pigr Just all my life—and play. —"Christian Science Monitor." WHICH ARE YOU 7 Grown-ups won't do nice things For boys and girls who tease 1 «£Jt alf .. ,0 fast as lor those who say, - Thank you, six," and "Please."- j