It could remember every
single word; and the little Mice were ready to leap to the very top of
the tree with pleasure. Next night a great many more Mice came, and
on Sunday two Rats even appeared; but these thought the story was not
pretty, and the little Mice were sorry for that, for now they also did
not like it so much as before.
"Do you only know one story?" asked the Rats.
"Only that one," replied the Tree. "I heard that on the happiest
evening of my life; I did not think then how happy I was."
"That's a very miserable story. Don't you know any about bacon and
tallow candles--a store-room story?"
"No," said the Tree.
"Then we'd rather not hear you," said the Rats.
And they went back to their own people. The little Mice at last stayed
away also; and then the Tree sighed and said:
"It was very nice when they sat round me, the merry little Mice,
and listened when I spoke to them. Now that's past too. But I shall
remember to be pleased when they take me out."
But when did that happen? Why, it was one morning that people came and
rummaged in the garret; the boxes were put away, and the Tree brought
out; they certainly threw him rather roughly on the floor, but a
servant dragged him away at once to the stairs, where the daylight
shone.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299