The field-mouse was not dead, only frightened, and as soon as Chúgoro put it down on the ground again, instead of running away, it sat up on its hind legs, and said in the tiniest, clear voice: “I owe you many thanks, Chúgoro Yamakawa, for saving my life. Know, then, that I am the King of all the Field-Mice, and, if you will meet me to-night at the door of my Palace, I will bestow great riches upon you.” The old gardener thanked the little King, and promised to meet him that evening as soon as his work was done. So, after sunset, leaving Tamá with Ino-yo San, he walked through the garden until he reached the hole where the mouse was waiting for him. “But I cannot enter here,” said Chúgoro, looking at the little hole. “Oh, yes you can,” answered the King, “for I will touch you with my paw, and then you will grow small like me, and able to enter my dwelling.” [Illustration: “KNOW, THEN, THAT I AM THE KING OF ALL THE FIELD-MICE.” _Page 43._] He stretched out his paw, and immediately the old man shrank and shrank until he was no larger than the King of the Field-Mice himself. They walked together down a narrow passage-way which, after a little, widened into a beautiful hall, all glittering with gold and silver. In the middle was a table richly spread with “o-tsu-yu” and salad and raw fish, all in gorgeous lacquered bowls, with plenty of “saki” to wash the viands down. There Chúgoro sat and feasted with the King and the Queen and the whole Royal Court, and, as they ate, from the kitchens came the small song of the servant mice, pounding rice for the New Year. As they pounded, they sang this strange little ditty:-- Ton, ton! Neko sai oraneba Nezumi no yo zakare. Ton, ton! (When the cat’s away The mice will play!) After the King saw that Chúgoro could eat no more, he led him to the treasure chamber, and filled his arms with gold and silver and fine lacquer work; enough to make him a rich man for life. Then he led him through the winding passage, and bade him good-by. When the old man was out in the fields again, he found that he was the same height that he had always been, and he hurried home to share the good news with Ino-yo San and Tamá. With his riches he built himself a fine new house, and bought jewels and silk robes for his wife, and, as for Tamá, he rested at night on a downy cushion, and lived on everything nice that a cat could wish. Now, a rich, miserly neighbor of Chúgoro’s, Gizæmon Muratani by name, seeing the gardener so rich and prosperous where he had always been in want before, called upon him, and begged to know what had brought him such wealth.