"No, it isn't," said the little Red Man, "I have it; you will never see
it again."

The little Field Mouse looked all about the room as fast as he could,
but he could not see any acorn. Then he thought he would go back up the
tiny stairs to his own home. But the little door was locked, and the
little Red Man had the key. And he said to the poor mouse,--

"You shall be my servant; you shall make my bed and sweep my room and
cook my broth."

So the little brown Mouse was the little Red Man's servant, and every
day he made the little Red Man's bed and swept the little Red Man's room
and cooked the little Red Man's broth. And every day the little Red Man
went away through the tiny door, and did not come back till afternoon.
But he always locked the door after him, and carried away the key.

At last, one day he was in such a hurry that he turned the key before
the door was quite latched, which, of course, didn't lock it at all. He
went away without noticing,--he was in such a hurry.

The little Field Mouse knew that his chance had come to run away home.
But he didn't want to go without the pretty, shiny acorn. Where it was
he didn't know, so he looked everywhere. He opened every little drawer
and looked in, but it wasn't in any of the drawers; he peeped on every
shelf, but it wasn't on a shelf; he hunted in every closet, but it
wasn't in there. Finally, he climbed up on a chair and opened a wee, wee
door in the chimney-piece,--and there it was!

He took it quickly in his forepaws, and then he took it in his mouth,