The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, Dickory, Dock!
Within the hollow wall of an old brick mansion, away up near the roof,
there lived a family of mice. It was a snug little home, pleasant and
quiet, and as dark as any mouse could desire. Mamma Mouse liked it
because, as she said, the draught that came through the rafters made
it cool in summer, and they were near enough to the chimney to keep
warm in wintertime.
Besides the Mamma Mouse there were three children, named Hickory and
Dickory and Dock. There had once been a Papa Mouse as well; but while
he was hunting for food one night he saw a nice piece of cheese in a
wire box, and attempted to get it. The minute he stuck his head into
the box, however, it closed with a snap that nearly cut his head off;
and when Mamma Mouse came down to look for him he was quite dead.
Mamma Mouse had to bear her bitter sorrow all alone, for the children
were too young at that time to appreciate their loss. She felt that
people were cruel to kill a poor mouse for wishing to get food for
himself and his family. There is nothing else for a mouse to do but
take what he can find, for mice can not earn money, as people do, and
they must live in some way.
But Mamma Mouse was a brave mouse, and knew that it was now her duty
to find food for her little ones; so she dried her eyes and went
bravely to work gnawing through the baseboard that separated the
pantry from the wall.
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