"I got along very well," said the little mouse, "until I reached the loft, and I was almost up to the hole in the corner when all at once out sprang the house-cat and I had to run for dear life. I never had such a narrow escape in my life."
"And the thimble!" exclaimed the old rat in a fierce tone; "where is the thimble?"
"I dropped it in my fright," said the little mouse in a shaking voice. "I couldn't run with it in my mouth; the house-cat would surely have caught me if I had."
"What!" squeaked the old rat. "You lost the thimble, did you?" and he sprang so suddenly at the poor little mouse that she gave a loud squeal of terror,—so loud that the barn-cat awoke from one of her light cat-naps and quickly started up. As she appeared, both Graywhisker and Mrs. Silverskin ran.
"I believe I'm more afraid of Graywhisker than I am even of the barn-cat,"
