The Tale of Master Meadow Mouse Part 10

To tell the truth, Master Meadow Mouse always felt safer when one of the Muskrat family happened to be taking a swim at the same time. For the Muskrats all had a warning signal that told everybody when there was danger. When one of them caught sight of Peter Mink he never failed--if he was in the water--to give a loud slap upon the surface with his tail.

Master Meadow Mouse always had one ear that was listening for that slap.

And when it sounded he never waited an instant, but darted into his tunnel without even stopping to shake the water off his coat. He said that he could dry his coat after he reached home; while if he stopped to dry it at the edge of the brook perhaps he'd never get home at all.

You might think that now and then he would have said to himself, "Oh, I won't bother to look for Peter Mink to-day. He must be miles away. I'll step right out of my tunnel and have my swim without taking a look-see first." But Master Meadow Mouse was never so lazy as that. And the day came at last when it was well worth his while to take the little extra trouble of peeping out before he had his swim.

For Master Meadow Mouse caught a glimpse of a snakelike head that darted out from under the bank of the brook and darted back again, out of sight. He knew that that queer head belonged to Peter Mink, and to n.o.body else.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

22

Fishing for Mice

MASTER MEADOW MOUSE peeped out of the end of his tunnel and gave a faint squeak. As he watched, he saw Peter Mink's head, on its long neck, flash out from beneath the overhanging bank of the brook.

"What are you doing up there?" Master Meadow Mouse called.

"Fishing!" said Peter Mink promptly.

"Aren't you a long way from the water?" Master Meadow Mouse inquired.

"With a pole, one doesn't need to stand right at the water's edge," said Peter Mink.

"But you haven't a pole," Master Meadow Mouse pointed out. "At least, I can't see that you have one."

Peter was greatly surprised--or seemed to be.

"I declare!" he said. "I forgot to bring my pole with me. And if you hadn't reminded me of it I shouldn't have known what was the trouble. I was wondering why I didn't get any bites." As he spoke he slid down the lower part of the bank and stretched himself like a cat. But all the time he was looking at Master Meadow Mouse out of the corner of his eye.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Peter Mink asked pleasantly.

"I came to take a swim," Master Meadow Mouse explained.

"Have you had it?"

"Not yet!" Master Meadow Mouse told him. "And I believe I'll wait till to-morrow."

"The water's fine to-day," said Peter Mink. "I've been in and out of it forty times."

But Master Meadow Mouse wasn't to be persuaded so easily.

"I might spoil your fishing if I went in now," he remarked.

"I don't care if you do," said Peter Mink. "The pleasure of seeing you enjoy a swim would more than repay me for the loss of the biggest fish in this brook."

Now, such speeches sounded very strange, coming from the mouth of a surly rascal like Peter Mink, who was never known to do anybody a good turn. Master Meadow Mouse pondered over this last statement. There seemed to be a catch in it somewhere. And he decided, finally, that he had discovered it.

"I didn't know there were any fish in this brook worth catching," he piped. "They say there were trout here once. But now there's nothing bigger than a minnow."

Peter Mink nodded. "That's the truth," he said. "If this brook has a fish that's as meaty as you are, I've never seen him."

"Ah!" cried Master Meadow Mouse. "You'd far rather catch me than catch a fish in this pool."

Peter Mink grinned at him brazenly.

"I won't deny it," he replied.

"But you tried to deceive me," Master Meadow Mouse told him. "You said--when I asked you what you were doing here--you said that you were fishing."

"So I was!" Peter Mink exclaimed with a horrid chuckle. "I was fishing for mice. And if you'd been a little less careful I'd have caught one, too."

"Good day!" said Master Meadow Mouse. "Good day and good-by!"

"Don't say good-by!" Peter Mink corrected. "Say, 'Till we meet again!'"

But Master Meadow Mouse had already pulled his head out of sight and vanished inside his tunnel.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

23

Moving Day

MASTER MEADOW MOUSE had a great-uncle who was known as Uncle Billy. He was the oldest of all the members of the Meadow Mouse family that lived under the snow near the brook. Hobbling along through one of the tunnels beneath the seven crusts of snow he happened to meet Master Meadow Mouse as he was returning from his talk with Peter Mink.

"I just saw Peter Mink at the brook!" Master Meadow Mouse called.

"Ha!" Uncle Billy snorted. "The question is, did he see you?"

"He did," Master Meadow Mouse answered with no little pride, for he felt quite important. "He not only saw me. He talked with me."

"Ha!" Uncle Billy snorted again. "Then this is moving day."

"Why, it's not the first of May, is it?" Master Meadow Mouse cried.

"Hardly!" said Uncle Billy, with something like a sniff. "It's not Ground Hog Day yet; and that's only the second of February."