So Timmy Willie said good-bye to his new friends, and hid in the hamper
with a crumb of cake and a withered cabbage leaf; and after much
jolting, he was set down safely in his own garden.
Sometimes on Saturdays he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate,
but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out, though
Johnny Town-mouse had half promised a visit.
The winter passed; the sun came out again; Timmy Willie sat by his
burrow warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of violets and
spring grass. He had nearly forgotten his visit to town. When up the
sandy path all spick and span with a brown leather bag came Johnny
Town-mouse!
Timmy Willie received him with open arms. "You have come at the best of
all the year, we will have herb pudding and sit in the sun."
"H'm'm! it is a little damp," said Johnny Town-mouse, who was carrying
his tail under his arm, out of the mud.
"What is that fearful noise?" he started violently.
"That?" said Timmy Willie, "that is only a cow; I will beg a little
milk, they are quite harmless, unless they happen to lie down upon you.
How are all our friends?"
Johnny's account was rather middling. He explained why he was paying
his visit so early in the season; the family had gone to the sea-side
for Easter; the cook was doing spring cleaning, on board wages, with
particular instructions to clear out the mice. There were four kittens,
and the cat had killed the canary.
"They say we did it; but I know better," said Johnny Town-mouse.
"Whatever is that fearful racket?"
"That is only the lawn-mower; I will fetch some of the grass clippings
presently to make your bed. I am sure you had better settle in the
country, Johnny."
"H'm'm--we shall see by Tuesday week; the hamper is stopped while they
are at the sea-side."
"I am sure you will never want to live in town again," said Timmy
Willie.
But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables; he said
it was too quiet!!
One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my
part I prefer to live in the country, like Timmy Willie.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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