|
THE TALE OF MRS TITTLEMOUSE
By BEATRIX POTTER
Author of "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" etc.
NELLIE'S LITTLE BOOK
|
Once upon a time there was a
wood-mouse, and her name was Mrs. Tittlemouse.
She lived in a bank under a hedge. |
Such a funny house! There were
yards and yards of sandy passages, leading to storerooms and nut-cellars
and seed-cellars, all amongst the roots of the hedge. |
|
|
There was a kitchen, a parlour, a
pantry, and a larder.
Also, there was Mrs. Tittlemouse's bedroom, where she slept in a little
box bed! |
Mrs. tittlemouse was a most
terribly tidy particular little mouse, always sweeping and dusting the
soft sandy floors.
Sometimes a beetle lost its way in the passages.
"Shuh! shuh! little dirty feet!" said Mrs. Tittlemouse, clattering her
dust-pan. |
|
|
And one day a little old woman
ran up and down in a red spotty cloak.
"Your house is on fire, Mother Ladybird! Fly away home to your
children!" |
Another day, a big fat spider
came in to shelter from the rain.
"Beg pardon, is this not Miss Muffet's?"
"Go away, you bold bad spider! Leaving ends of cobweb all over my nice
clean house!" |
|
|
She bundled the spider out at a
window.
He let himself down the hedge with a long thin bit of string. |
Mrs. tittlemouse went on her way
to a distant storeroom, to fetch cherry-stones and thistle-down seed for
dinner.
All along the passage she sniffed, and looked at the floor.
"I smell a smell of honey; is it the cowslips outside, in the hedge? I
am sure I can see the marks of little dirty feet." |
|
|
Suddenly round a corner, she met
Babbitty Bumble—"Zizz, Bizz, Bizzz!" said the bumble bee.
Mrs. Tittlemouse looked at her severely. She wished that she had a
broom.
"Good-day, Babbitty Bumble; I should be glad to buy some beeswax. But
what are you doing down here? Why do you always come in at a window, and
say Zizz, Bizz, Bizzz?" Mrs. Tittlemouse began to get cross. |
"Zizz, Wizz, Wizzz!" replied
Babbitty Bumble in a peevish squeak. She sidled down a passage, and
disappeared into a storeroom which had been used for acorns.
Mrs. Tittlemouse had eaten the acorns before Christmas; the storeroom
ought to have been empty.
But it was full of untidy dry moss. |
|
|
Mrs. tittlemouse began to pull
out the moss. Three or four other bees put their heads out, and buzzed
fiercely.
"I am not in the habit of letting lodgings; this is an intrusion!" said
Mrs. Tittlemouse. "I will have them turned out—" "Buzz! Buzz! Buzzz!"—"I
wonder who would help me?" "Bizz, Wizz, Wizzz!"
—"I will not have Mr. Jackson; he never wipes his feet." |
Mrs. tittlemouse decided to leave
the bees till after dinner.
When she got back to the parlour, she heard some one coughing in a fat
voice; and there sat Mr. Jackson himself!
He was sitting all over a small rocking-chair, twiddling his thumbs and
smiling, with his feet on the fender.
He lived in a drain below the hedge, in a very dirty wet ditch. |
|
|
"How do you do, Mr. Jackson?
Deary me, you have got very wet!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Tittlemouse! I'll sit awhile and
dry myself," said Mr. Jackson.
He sat and smiled, and the water dripped off his coat tails. Mrs.
Tittlemouse went round with a mop. |
He sat such a while that he had
to be asked if he would take some dinner?
First she offered him cherry-stones. "Thank you, thank you, Mrs.
Tittlemouse! No teeth, no teeth, no teeth!" said Mr. Jackson.
He opened his mouth most unnecessarily wide; he certainly had not a
tooth in his head. |
|
|
Then she offered him thistle-down
seed—"Tiddly, widdly, widdly! Pouff, pouff, puff!" said Mr. Jackson. He
blew the thistle-down all over the room.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Tittlemouse! Now what I
really—really should like—would be a little dish of
honey!" |
"I am afraid I have not got any,
Mr. Jackson," said Mrs. Tittlemouse.
"Tiddly, widdly, widdly, Mrs. Tittlemouse!" said the smiling Mr.
Jackson, "I can smell it; that is why I came to call."
Mr. Jackson rose ponderously from the table, and began to look into the
cupboards.
Mrs. Tittlemouse followed him with a dish-cloth, to wipe his large wet
footmarks off the parlour floor. |
|
|
When he had convinced himself
that there was no honey in the cupboards, he began to walk down the
passage.
"Indeed, indeed, you will stick fast, Mr. Jackson!"
"Tiddly, widdly, widdly, Mrs. Tittlemouse!" |
First he squeezed into the
pantry.
"Tiddly, widdly, widdly? no honey? no honey, Mrs. Tittlemouse?"
There were three creepy-crawly people hiding in the plate-rack. Two of
them got away; but the littlest one he caught. |
|
|
Then he squeezed into the larder.
Miss Butterfly was tasting the sugar; but she flew away out of the
window.
"Tiddly, widdly, widdly, Mrs. Tittlemouse; you seem to have plenty of
visitors!"
"And without any invitation!" said Mrs. Thomasina Tittlemouse.
|
They went along the sandy
passage— "Tiddly widdly—" "Buzz! Wizz! Wizz!"
He met Babbitty round a corner, and snapped her up, and put her down
again.
"I do not like bumble bees. They are all over bristles," said Mr.
Jackson, wiping his mouth with his coat-sleeve.
"Get out, you nasty old toad!" shrieked Babbitty Bumble.
"I shall go distracted!" scolded Mrs. Tittlemouse. |
|
|
She shut herself up in the
nut-cellar while Mr. Jackson pulled out the bees-nest. He seemed to have
no objection to stings.
When Mrs. Tittlemouse ventured to come out—everybody had gone away.
But the untidiness was something dreadful—"Never did I see such a
mess—smears of honey; and moss, and thistledown—and marks of big and
little dirty feet—all over my nice clean house!" |
She gathered up the moss and the
remains of the beeswax.
Then she went out and fetched some twigs, to partly close up the front
door.
"I will make it too small for Mr. Jackson!" |
|
|
She fetched soft soap, and
flannel, and a new scrubbing brush from the storeroom. But she was too
tired to do any more. First she fell asleep in her chair, and then she
went to bed.
"Will it ever be tidy again?" said poor Mrs. Tittlemouse. |
Next morning she got up very
early and began a spring cleaning which lasted a fortnight.
She swept, and scrubbed, and dusted; and she rubbed up the furniture
with beeswax, and polished her little tin spoons. |
|
|
When it was all beautifully neat
and clean, she gave a party to five other little mice, without Mr.
Jackson.
He smelt the party and came up the bank, but he could not squeeze in at
the door. |
So they handed him out
acorn-cupfuls of honey-dew through the window, and he was not at all
offended.
He sat outside in the sun, and said—"Tiddly, widdly, widdly! Your very
good health, Mrs. Tittlemouse!" |
|
THE END
books, favouritebooks, classic
free booksclassic books
freeclassics
books, favouritebooks, classicbooks, our favouriteauthor, classicbooks, freedownload, booksauthor, favourite
free booksclassic booksfree classic booksdownload free booksdownload classic booksdownload free classic booksfree novels
freeclassicsbooksdownloadfree download classic booksdownload classicdownload novels
|