XVIIMINDING HIS MOTHER
“What’syour name?” Master Meadow Mouse asked Mistah Mule.
Mistah Mule told him.
“I shouldn’t think you’d dare to laugh when you’re alone,” Master Meadow Mouse remarked.
“’Cause why?” inquired Mistah Mule.
“I should think the sound of your laugh would scare you terribly,” Master Meadow Mouse explained. “And how awful, if—when you were alone—you got to laughing and couldn’t stop!”
This remark so amused Mistah Mule that he couldn’t help laughing again.And Master Meadow Mouse promptly tumbled right over backward. He was sadly frightened. But he soon pulled himself together.
“Do you suppose,” he asked, “I could learn to make that sound? It would be pleasant, when anybody chases you, to turn around quickly andhee-hawright in his face. It’s a fine way to frighten a person.”
“Keep a-tryin’ whenever you gits a chance,” Mistah Mule suggested.
Just then another little person came creeping through the grass. It was Master Meadow Mouse’s mother.
“I’ll try it on her,” Master Meadow Mouse whispered. And scampering up to his mother, he said in his tiny, squeaky voice, “Hee-haw!”
“There! You’re catching cold!” his mother exclaimed. “You sneezed. Comeright home and drink some hot ginger tea. You must wear your rubbers when the dew is on the grass.”
“Excuse me, Ma! I was not sneezing. If you don’t believe me, you can ask my friend here,” said Master Meadow Mouse.
“Friend! What friend?” his mother replied, looking in every direction except up. She didn’t see Mistah Mule, who towered above her like a mountain.
“Him!” said Master Meadow Mouse, pointing upward.
His mother raised her head. And when she beheld Mistah Mule she gave a shrill scream.
“What monster is this?” she cried.
“He isn’t a monster. He’s Mistah Mule,” Master Meadow Mouse told her.
“Come away!” Mrs. Meadow Mouse begged her son. “It’s not safe to be sonear him. He could swallow you and me both at the same time.”
Of course Mistah Mule had never eaten a mouse of any sort. The good lady’s fright amused him. “Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” he laughed.
“Run, child! Run!” Mrs. Meadow Mouse shrieked. And gathering up her petticoats, she dashed for the nearest tree and squirmed her way down among the roots, out of sight.
Meanwhile Master Meadow Mouse began galloping about Mistah Mule in a circle. Watching his small new friend, Mistah Mule slowly turned round and round in his tracks.
“What for you does that?” he inquired at last.
“My mother told me to run,” Master Meadow Mouse explained. “I always try to mind my mother.”