Chapter XXIII: Free at Last

When Minnie returned to the nest, whom should she meet but mouse in the midst of her little ones?

The mate was there also. He had come partly to help home his wife,--who had lamed her foot in the trap,--and partly to boast of his wonderful courage and ingenuity in setting her free.

Both were very profuse in their thanks to Minnie; for the young mice had already told of her kindness and care. Minnie interrupted their thanks to ask the news from home.

This, mouse had half forgotten in her flight. She only remembered how, after the trap shut down upon her, the pantry-door had opened, and a lady came in.

"Tell me exactly how she looked," said Minnie.

"She wore a gown of pink muslin, and pink ribbons in her hair."

"O, that was my own mother! How I wish I had been in your place!"

"I wished so too. When she lifted her hand and took down a jar of sweetmeats, that stood close by the trap, I felt sure she'd see me, and have me killed. O, how I trembled! It was as much as ever I could do to keep from squeaking when I thought of my mate, and all the little ones."

"Was my mother alone?"

"No; a little boy came with her, and watched while she took the sweetmeats out into a dish. Before closing the jar, I saw her give him a taste of the delicious pine-apple."

"How did you know it was pine-apple?"

"O, after my mate had set me free, we waited to lap up a few drops that trickled down the side of the jar. We know the taste of good things! Was that boy your brother?"

"No; it was dear Franky, my playfellow, who lives at the other side of the fence. Didn't he say anything?"

"He asked the lady if she supposed Minnie was where she could have nice pine-apple for tea. I couldn't hear the answer, for they both left the pantry then."

"My generous Franky! He always thought more of others than himself."

"Don't cry, dear, and I'll call you my generous Minnie. Think! if you had not been so kind, all our little ones might have starved."

"Yes; and my own wife might have dried up into a skeleton in that dreadful trap!" said the father-mouse. "How glad we are that we have such a kind friend to live with us always!"

Alas, it was hard for Minnie now to tell that she meant to leave their nest! But, hearing the slow steps of turtle brush through the grass above, she thanked the mice for their good-will, and hurried out into the sunshine, to meet her new and faithful friend.

As for the mice, they were so taken by surprise, that at first they could only look after her, without saying a word. But, before she had reached the brook, Minnie heard a squeaking and scrambling underground; and, from a little opening, which she had not seen before, up darted mouse and her mate, trembling with anger, and talking so noisily, both at once, that she could not make out what either said.

Meantime turtle, who had little respect for mice, kept on at his steady, slow pace, through the grass. As Minnie was mounted on his back, the mice were obliged to travel also, in order that she might hear their complaints and reproaches.

For they had forgotten all about gratitude, now, and could only grieve over the missing broods of young.

As soon as Minnie discovered this, she begged turtle to wait a moment, that she might tell her side of the tale; but on he jogged, and, when the mice would not be still, snapped at them so fiercely with his snaky head, that they both scampered home in fright.

They had not grieved for naught. Four of the truants had drowned themselves in attempting to cross the brook; two had been eaten by a crow; and the rest were snapped up at a mouthful, by a spaniel, that happened to run through the field.