THE TALE OF JOHNNY TOWN-MOUSE

Johnny Town-mouse was born in a cupboard. Timmy Willie was born in a garden. Timmy Willie was a little country mouse who went to town by mistake in a hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by carrier; he packed them in a big hamper.

The gardener left the hamper by the garden gate, so that the carrier could pick it up when he passed. Timmy Willie crept in through a hole in the wickerwork, and after eating some peas—Timmy Willie fell fast asleep. He awoke in a fright, while the hamper was being lifted into the carrier's cart. Then there was a jolting, and a clattering of horse's feet; other packages were thrown in; for miles and miles—jolt—jolt—jolt! and Timmy Willie trembled amongst the jumbled up vegetables.

At last the cart stopped at a house, where the hamper was taken out, carried in, and set down. The cook gave the carrier sixpence; the back door banged, and the cart rumbled away. But there was no quiet; there seemed to be hundreds of carts passing. Dogs barked; boys whistled in the street; the cook laughed, the parlour maid ran up and down stairs; and a canary sang like a steam engine.

Timmy Willie, who had lived all his life in a garden, was almost frightened to death. Presently the cook opened the hamper and began to unpack the vegetables. Out sprang the terrified Timmy Willie.

Up jumped the cook on a chair, exclaiming “A mouse! a mouse! Call the cat! Fetch me the poker, Sarah!” Timmy Willie did not wait for Sarah with the poker; he rushed along the skirting-board till he came to a little hole, and in he popped.

He dropped half a foot, and crashed into the middle of a mouse dinner party, breaking three glasses.—“who in the world is this?” inquired Johnny Town-mouse. But after the first exclamation of surprise he instantly recovered his manners. With the utmost politeness he introduced Timmy Willie to nine other mice, all with long tails and white neckties. Timmy Willie's own tail was insignificant. Johnny Town-mouse and his friends noticed it; but they were too well-bred to make personal remarks; only one of them asked Timmy Willie if he had ever been in a trap?

The dinner was of eight courses; not much of anything, but truly elegant. All the dishes were unknown to Timmy Willie, who would have been a little afraid of tasting them; only he was very hungry, and very anxious to behave with company manners. The continual noise upstairs made him so nervous, that he dropped a plate. “Never mind, they don't belong to us,” said Johnny. “Why don't those youngsters come back with the dessert?”

It should be explained that two young mice, who were waiting on the others, went skirmishing upstairs to the kitchen between courses. Several times they had come tumbling in, squeaking and laughing; Timmy Willie learnt with horror that they were being chased by the cat. His appetite failed, he felt faint.

“Try some jelly?” said Johnny Town-mouse. “No? Would you rather go to bed? I will show you a most comfortable sofa pillow.”

The sofa pillow had a hole in it. Johnny Town-mouse quite honestly recommended it as the best bed, kept exclusively for visitors. But the sofa smelt of cat. Timmy Willie preferred to spend a miserable night under the fender.

It was just the same next day. An excellent breakfast was provided—for mice accustomed to eat bacon; but Timmy Willie had been reared on roots and salad. Johnny Town-mouse and his friends racketted about under the floors, and came boldly out all over the house in the evening. One particularly loud crash had been caused by Sarah tumbling downstairs with the tea-tray; there were crumbs sand sugar and smears of jam to be collected, in spite of the cat.

Timmy Willie longed to be at home in his peaceful nest in a sunny bank. The food disagreed with him; the noise prevented him from sleeping. In a few days he grew so thin that Johnny Town-mouse noticed it, and questioned him. He listened to Timmy Willie's story and inquired about the garden. “It sounds rather a dull place? What do you do when it rains?”

“When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and seeds from my Autumn store. I peep out at the throstles and blackbirds on the lawn, and my friend Cock Robin. And when the sun comes out again, you should see my garden and the flowers—roses and pinks and pansies—no noise except the birds and bees, and the lambs in the meadows.”

“There goes that cat again!” exclaimed Johnny Town-mouse. When they had taken refuge in the coal-cellar he resumed the conversation; “I confess I am a little disappointed; we have endeavoured to entertain you, Timothy William.”

“Oh yes, yes, you have been most kind; but I do feel so ill,” said Timmy Willie.

“It may be that your teeth and digestion are unaccustomed to our food; perhaps it might be wiser for you to return in the hamper.”

“Oh? Oh!” cried Timmy Willie.

“Why of course for the matter of that we could have sent you back last week,” said Johnny rather huffily—“did you not know that the hamper goes back empty on Saturdays?”

So Timmy Willie said goodbye 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 seaside 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 lawnmower; 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 seaside.”

“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.

THE END

城里老鼠约翰尼的故事

城里老鼠约翰尼出生在一个橱柜里。蒂米·威利出生在一个菜园里。蒂米·威利是一只乡下的小老鼠，阴差阳错地被装在一个柳条筐中带到了城里。园丁请送货人每个星期往城里送一次菜，菜被他装在一个大柳条筐子里。

园丁把筐子放在菜园门口，送货人经过的时候就会带走。蒂米·威利从柳条间的一个洞钻进了那个装菜的筐中，吃了一些豌豆，然后，蒂米·威利睡着了。他后来是被吓醒的，当时筐子正被搬起装到送货人的马车上。一阵震动后，传来了“嘚嘚”的马蹄声。其他的包裹也都被不断地装到车上，马车走了很久很久——颠——哒——颠——哒，蒂米·威利在杂乱无章的蔬菜中颤抖个不停。

最后，马车停在了一栋房子前，柳条筐被取了下来，送到房子里，放到地上。厨娘给了送货人六便士，后门被“砰”地关上，马车碌碌地走了。但是并没有安静下来，似乎有几百辆马车不断经过的隆隆声，狗的狂吠声，街上的男孩子们吹口哨的声音，厨娘的大笑声，客厅里的女佣顺着楼梯跑上跑下的声音，还有一只金丝雀像蒸汽引擎一样的叫声。

蒂米·威利自出生以来一直住在那个菜园里，面对这一切简直怕得要死。没过多久，厨娘便打开筐子，往外取蔬菜。被吓坏了的蒂米·威利猛地跳出了筐子。

厨娘吓得跳到了椅子上，尖叫着：“有老鼠！有老鼠！快找猫来！给我取个拨火棍来，莎拉！”蒂米·威利没有等着莎拉拿拨火棍来，他沿着踢脚板拼命地跑，直到看见一个小洞，便一头钻了进去。

他向下坠落了半英尺的距离，跌落到一个老鼠的晚宴当中，还打碎了三个玻璃杯。“这到底是谁啊？”城里的老鼠约翰尼问道。但经过最开始的惊慌之后，他立刻恢复了自己的礼仪。他以最好的礼节，将蒂米·威利介绍给了另外九只小老鼠，他们都有着长长的尾巴，戴着白色领结。蒂米·威利自己的尾巴很短，城里的老鼠约翰尼和他的朋友们都注意到了，但是他们的教养都很好，没有做任何评论，他们中只有一只问蒂米·威利是不是曾经被老鼠夹子困住过。

晚宴由八道菜组成，分量并不多，但是非常优雅。桌子上的菜肴，蒂米·威利都没有见过，他有点儿不敢去尝。只是他非常饿，又很希望能展现出社交礼仪。楼上持续不断传来的声音令他非常紧张，他摔了一个盘子。“没关系，盘子不是我们的。”约翰尼说，“那些年轻人为什么没有带着点心回来呢？”

得解释一下，有两只年轻的老鼠，负责伺候其他老鼠，在上菜的间歇，他们在通往厨房的楼梯上和人起了冲突，有好几次，他们都是滚进来的，尖叫着，大笑着，蒂米·威利得知有猫在追他们之后非常惊恐。他立刻就没了胃口，还觉得有些头晕。

“再吃点果冻？”城里的老鼠约翰尼说，“不要了吗？还是你想上床睡觉了？我会给你一个最最舒服的沙发靠枕。”

那个沙发靠枕上面有个洞。城里的老鼠很热诚地介绍说这是最好的床，是专门为客人留着的。但是沙发上散发着猫的气味。蒂米·威利更愿意在火炉围栏下面度过一个不舒服的夜晚。

第二天情况一模一样。一顿非常丰盛的早餐摆了出来——这些老鼠习惯吃咸肉，但蒂米·威利却从小到大都是以植物的根和沙拉为食。城里的老鼠约翰尼和他的朋友们在地板下面喧闹，在夜里的时候大胆地满屋子乱跑。莎拉端着茶盘跌下了楼梯，发出一声巨响。尽管有猫，但还是有不少的面包屑、糖果和果酱可以收集。

蒂米·威利渴望回家，回到阳光照耀的河岸上他那平静的窝里。这里的食物让他不舒服，噪音吵得人睡不着觉。过了几天，他就瘦了很多，城里的老鼠约翰尼也注意到了，于是便问他怎么了。他听了蒂米·威利对他的菜园的描述，还打听了那个菜园的事情。“听起来是个很无聊的地方啊。下雨的时候，你干些什么？”

“下雨的时候，我就坐在我小小的沙土洞穴里，给秋天时存下的玉米和种子剥皮。我会望着外面草地上的画眉鸟和乌鸫，还有我的朋友知更鸟。等到雨过天晴，太阳出来，你真应该去看看我的菜园和那些花儿，玫瑰，石竹，三色紫罗兰，那里一片宁静，只有鸟唱蜂鸣和草地中的羊羔咩咩叫。”

“那只猫又来了！”城里的老鼠约翰尼叫道。他们躲到储煤室后，他继续刚才的谈话：“我承认，我有点儿失望。我们想要好好招待你的，蒂莫西·威廉[1]。”

“噢，是的，是的，你们都特别热心。但是我觉得很不舒服。”蒂米·威利说。

“可能是因为你的牙齿和消化系统不太适应我们的食物。也许你钻进筐子里面回去比较明智。”

“哦？哦！”蒂米·威利叫道。

“哎呀，我们本来可以上个星期就送你回去的。”约翰尼很懊恼地说，“你难道不知道那个大筐子每个星期六都会空着送回去吗？”

就这样，蒂米·威利和他的新朋友作别，他带着一小块蛋糕和一片蔫了的卷心菜叶子躲到了筐子里。经过很多颠簸，他安全回到了自己的菜园里。

有时候，在星期六，蒂米·威利会看着放在大门口的柳条筐，但是他很清楚地知道不能再次进去。也没有人从筐子里面出来，尽管约翰尼曾经半认真地答应过要来拜访。

冬天过去了。当太阳在新的一天再次起来时。蒂米·威利坐在自己的洞穴边晒着自己小身体上的皮毛，嗅着紫罗兰和春草的香气。他几乎已经忘掉他去城里的旅行了。而就在这时，在沙土小路上走来了一个打扮整洁、一丝不苟、背着棕色皮包的人，那是城里的老鼠约翰尼。

蒂米·威利张开双臂欢迎他。“你在全年中最美好的时候来了，我们可以晒着太阳享用些香草布丁。”

“嗯嗯嗯！这里有点儿潮湿啊！”城里的老鼠约翰尼说。他把尾巴夹在胳膊下面，以防沾到泥土。

“那可怕的声音是什么啊？”他大声惊叫道。

“那？”蒂米·威利说，“那是头奶牛而已。我去找她讨点儿牛奶，她们不会伤害人的，除非是碰巧躺到了你的身上。我们那些朋友怎么样了？”

约翰尼的描述很平淡。他解释自己为什么在开春这么早就来拜访，那户人家去了海边过复活节，厨娘要留下做大扫除，只发伙食费，还得到特别指示要把老鼠都清理干净。家里又多了四只小猫，那只大猫把金丝雀给杀死了。

“他们说是我们干的，但是我很清楚到底是怎么回事。”约翰尼说，“那可怕的喧闹声又是怎么回事？”

“不过是割草机的声音。一会儿我去取些割下来的碎草来给你铺床。我肯定你在乡下会更踏实的，约翰尼。”

“嗯嗯嗯——等下个星期二再说吧。他们去了海边，筐子的送货也停了。”

“我肯定你不会再想回城里生活了。”蒂米·威利说。

但约翰尼还是回去了。是随下一次送菜的筐子回去的。他说村子里面太安静了。

一个地方适合一些人居住，另一个地方适合另外一些人居住。至于我自己，我更愿意住在乡下，就像蒂米·威利一样。

* * *

[1]蒂莫西·威廉是蒂米·威利的大名。