MOUSE.



PART II.
INTRODUCTION


It is now some months ago since I took leave of my little readers,
promising, in case I should ever hear any further tidings of
either Nimble or Longtail, I would certainly communicate it to
them; and, as I think it extremely wrong not to fulfil any
engagement we enter into, I look upon myself bound to give them
all the information I have since gained, relating to those two
little animals; and I doubt not but they will be glad to hear what
happened to them, after Nimble was frightened from my writing
table by the entrance of my servant. If I recollect right, I have
already told you, that I frequently peeped into the hole in the
skirting-board, and laid bits of cake to try to entice my little
companion back, but all to no purpose: and I had quite given over
all hopes of ever again seeing him, when one day, as I was putting
my hand into a large jar, which had some Turkey figs in it, I felt
something soft at the bottom, and taking it out, found it to be a
poor little mouse, not quite dead, but so starved and weak, that
upon my placing it upon the table, it had not strength sufficient
to get from me. A little boy happened to be standing by me, who,
upon the sight of the mouse, began to beg me to give it to the
cat, or kill it, 'for I don't like mice,' said he; 'pray, ma'am,
put it away.' 'Not like mice,' replied I; 'what can be your
objection to such a little soft creature as this?' and taking