The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse

In a little home beneath a hedge lived a country mouse named Hazel. Her door was a curled brown leaf, and her bed was lined with soft grass. One morning, her cousin Pip arrived from town. Hazel hurried out to meet him. She had swept her floor, gathered fresh seeds, and saved her sweetest berry for his visit.

The cousins sat on a flat stone in the sunshine. Hazel offered oats, seeds, and two ripe berries on a leaf. Pip nibbled politely. At his home, he said, there were crumbs of cake and great pieces of cheese. He invited Hazel to come and see. Hazel had never visited town. She packed a little bundle and followed him.

They travelled beside the hedges until the fields gave way to houses. Cart wheels rumbled along the street. Footsteps tapped across the stones. Hazel stayed close to Pip as he led her through a small gap beneath a blue door. Beyond it stood a dining table that seemed as tall as the trees back home.

When the room was quiet, Pip showed Hazel a path up to the table. What a feast they found! There were apple slices, bread crumbs, and cheese beside a china plate. Hazel tasted a crumb of cake. It was wonderfully sweet. Pip settled beside her, pleased to share all the things he enjoyed about town.

Just then, the door handle rattled. Pip gave a squeak and hurried behind a folded napkin. Hazel followed him. Heavy footsteps crossed the room, and a hand lifted the china plate away. The mice stayed still until the footsteps faded. Hazel held her paws together. That had been a much bigger surprise than she wanted.

Soon the room grew quiet again. Pip crept out for another crumb, but a loud bark sounded in the hall. Both mice darted back to their hiding place. Hazel missed the rustle of her hedge and the soft sounds of the fields. The food was lovely, but she could not settle down to enjoy it.

Hazel thanked Pip for his welcome and explained that she was ready to go home. Pip looked at the cake, then at his cousin. He understood. Different places suited different mice. He walked with her to the edge of town, where the lane became a grassy path. There, the cousins promised to visit each other again.

By evening, Hazel was back beneath her hedge. She spread a few oats on her little stone table and listened to the leaves whisper overhead. Nothing hurried her. Before bed, she set aside a handful of seeds for Pip’s next visit. Her supper was simple, her home was quiet, and there was always room for a friend.