Chapter 1

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[Transcriber's Note:

Missing quotation marks have been left unchanged for flavor. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected; errors and inconsistencies are listed at the end of the e-text.]

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Little Downy;

or,

THE HISTORY

of

A FIELD MOUSE.

Embellished With

_TWELVE COLORED ENGRAVINGS._

LONDON: Printed for A. K. NEWMAN and Co. Leadenhall-Street. _Price 1s. 6d._

Little Downy;

or,

THE HISTORY

of

A FIELD-MOUSE.

A MORAL TALE.

Embellished

WITH TWELVE COLORED ENGRAVINGS.

LONDON: _Printed for_ A. K. NEWMAN and Co. LEADENHALL-STREET. 1822.

THE LIFE AND INTERESTING ADVENTURES

of a

FIELD MOUSE.

"What is my little Alfred crying for?" asked his mother, Mrs. Clifford, as she entered the room where Alfred stood weeping by the table. Come here, and tell me what is the matter with you."

Alfred slowly advanced towards his mother, and wiped away his tears with her apron. Alfred was but a little boy, or he would not have cried for such a simple thing as he did.

"Well, Alfred, and what is it?" asked his kind mamma.

"Why, mamma, you know that nice plum cake you gave me for saying my lesson well; I had put it in the cupboard, as I did not want to eat it then, and I came just now to take a little nibble at it; and when I opened the closet-door to look for it, there was an ugly brown mouse in the closet, and hardly a scrap of my cake left; that greedy thing had eaten it all but a few crumbs." And here Alfred's tears flowed afresh.

"I am very sorry, my dear child, that the mouse has eaten your cake; but still, I do not think it was worth shedding so many tears about: you must learn to bear such trifling disappointments with more patience. I dare say, the mouse has eaten my sugar and cake, but I shall not cry if it has."

"I am sure it is enough to make any one cry, (said Alfred). I only wish, (added he, his eyes sparkling with anger), that I could have killed the little beast for stealing my cake."

"Now, Alfred, I am ashamed of you," said his mother gravely.

Alfred could, however, think of nothing but the loss of his cake, and begged his mother to let the mouse-trap be set to catch the mischievous intruder.

Mrs. Clifford was very sorry to hear her little son talk so, and she represented to him his cruelty in wanting to take away the life of a poor mouse only for having satisfied its hunger.

"But, mamma, mice do a deal of mischief, (said Alfred), and ought to be killed; for that mouse will soon eat up all your sugar."

"But, Alfred; I know a certain two-legged mouse, who, if I left the key in my store-closet, would eat more sugar in one minute than this poor little animal could in an hour."

Alfred hung his head at this reproof, for it was but a day or two since he was detected at the sugar dish; and he soon after left the room.

Mrs. Clifford was much grieved that her little Alfred shewed so much inclination to be cruel and revengeful, two qualities so dangerous in a child, or in any one; and she knew that, unless it was timely checked, it would grow into a habit. Harsh means, she did not like to adopt; and so she at last thought of a method which seemed likely to succeed. She was well aware of the inconvenience of having mice in her cupboard, as they not only commit great depredations, but soil every thing they touch; so, as she was forced to kill the mouse, she hoped to turn its death to a good use. Therefore, the next time Alfred entered the room, she asked him if he was still resolved to have the mouse killed. "Yes, mamma, (replied Alfred), it had no right to eat my cake."

"Very well; I will have the mouse-trap set; but observe, Alfred, whether before the day is past, you do not tell me you are sorry for its death."

"Oh! no; that I am sure I sha'n't," replied Alfred, and Mrs. Clifford ordered the trap to be set.

Early the next morning, when Mrs. Clifford came down stairs and went to the closet, she beheld her poor little prisoner dead in his wire cage. "See, Alfred, (said she), here is the poor mouse dead!"

Alfred at first was glad; but when he saw what a pretty one it was, he was sorry, but contented himself by saying to the dead mouse, "If you had not been in the cupboard doing so much mischief, you would not have been killed!"

When he had said his lesson, his mother said to him, "Now, Alfred, shall I tell you a story?" Alfred was very fond of hearing a story, if it was not too long, and he asked his mother, if this would be a long one.

"I don't wish to tire you, (said his mother), so I will only tell you part of it this morning. Alfred fetched his little stool, and having placed it at her side, fixed his eyes on her face while she related

THE HISTORY OF A FIELD MOUSE.

"In a wheat-stack, in Farmer Ball's yard, lived an old mouse with her family, consisting of five little ones, the most worthy of which was a pretty brown mouse, called Downy, because her fur was longer and softer than either of her brothers and sisters, and besides being the prettiest, she was likewise the wisest and best among them.

"Her mother was by birth a field-mouse; she had been carried among the sheaves of wheat into the stack, with a great many more field-mice; and had lived there, at the expence of farmer Ball, ever since.

"It was one fine clear morning, in the middle of March, that, as Downy was peeping her little nose out of the straw at the edge of the stack, to breathe a little fresh air, she saw the farmer with his men enter the yard, and heard him tell the people that he would have the stack taken into the barn and thrashed, and desired them to bid Fen, the ratcatcher, come, and bring all his dogs with him.

"Poor Downy was in a terrible fright at hearing this; she ran to acquaint her mother with it; and asked her what they had best do; but her mother, who was but a foolish mouse, bade her not be under the least alarm, for she was persuaded the farmer did not mean to take it in just then; and added, it was time enough to think of it when the men began; she told Downy to go to bed with the rest of her brothers and sisters, and not to be afraid.

"But poor Downy was in great trouble about what she should do, and could not sleep for thinking of the sad fate which threatened them; she awakened her companions to consult with them; but her sisters only laughed at her fear, and said, they would never leave a place where they were so well off; and where they could get plenty of good corn, only for the trouble of eating it. Her brothers were of the same opinion, and added, they could run so swiftly, they were sure they could soon get away into the field; but they expected they should live very quietly yet for some time.

"Poor foolish little things! they did not think the danger was so near; but they were awakened the next morning by the farmer's men unroofing the stack, and they now wished they had hearkened to the prudent advice of their sister Downy.

"Poor little Downy's heart almost died within her, when she heard the barking of the dogs, and the hallooing of the men; how much rather would she have been in the field, than in the warm stack! for she heard the men drawing near to the place where they lay; and they were all terribly afraid; and their mother, the old mouse, would go to see how far the danger was from them. Imprudent creature! she ventured too near; for a great black dog on the top of the stack, the moment the men raised the sheaf where she was, snapped her up in an instant.

"Nothing was now to be heard but shrieks and cries from every side of the stack; and the men drew nearer and nearer: Downy heard the last cries of her brethren; the sheaf where she had taken refuge, was already on the point of being raised, when she sprang through an opening in the side, and was just going to run down, when she beheld a great dog directly under her!

"Poor Downy gave herself up as lost, and awaited in trembling anxiety her fate: for some moments she clung to the outside of the stack, not daring to descend, yet fearing still more to stay; when, luckily for our poor little mouse, some one called the dog, who instantly ran off; and Downy, darting from the stack, had just time to gain a place of security beneath a clod of earth, where she lay shaking with fear, not daring to look up for some minutes.

"She shuddered with horror when she heard the dying groans of her friends in the stack, and the shouts of the men encouraging the dogs; many a poor mouse did she see running away in hopes of making its escape, but pursued and devoured by the dogs.

"Several times poor Downy had like to have been discovered by the dogs, or crushed beneath the horses' feet, but she crouched very close to the ground, and lay so still, she hardly breathed, so great was her fear; at length she watched an opportunity, when no one was near, to quit her retreat, and ran with all the speed she could, not once daring to pause or look behind, till she gained the farmer's orchard; where she laid among the long grass, panting, and half dead with terror and fatigue; she hid herself toward night under the roots of an old apple-tree; for she was very much afraid of a great white owl which she had seen flying near.

"It was in vain for her to lament the sad fate of her mother and brethren; she could not recal them to life; and Downy was thankful that she had escaped so well; but the cold weather was not gone yet, and poor little Downy knew she had nothing to eat and no warm house to live in; but must make herself one; and she was afraid she should be starved to death with hunger, or die with cold. These thoughts occupied her mind, till she fell asleep, nor did she awake next morning till quite late, and found herself very hungry. She first peeped out of her hole, and seeing nothing near to hurt her, she ventured forth in search of some food; she rummaged among the dead leaves for some time, without success, till chance led her to a row of nut-trees; here, after a diligent search, she had the good fortune to discover three nuts, one of which she eat, being very hungry, and the rest she carried home to her tree; but Downy knew they would not last long, and so thought it best to try and get more, she therefore deposited them safely away, and sat off to look for more provisions; she spent nearly the whole day among the nut-trees, but returned home only with one nut; and a shower of snow falling, she was forced to return to her dwelling, and did not go out any more that day, but laid still, and thought how she should make herself a warm nest; for she was very cold here, having been used to the close warm stack, where scarce any air entered. She eat very sparingly of her nuts, saving as much as possible for the morrow, fearing lest the snow should hinder her looking for more; but there had not fallen much, and in the morning, the sun coming out quite bright, melted it all; and Downy left her tree to look for something to line her nest with, and for more food. That being the first object, she began to search for some first, and was more fortunate than before, as she discovered several ears of corn, which had been blown by the wind off the stack; she could hardly credit her good fortune, when she beheld her store and saw it all safely lodged in her granary. Her next care was to line her nest; for this purpose, (though it was very cold and frosty) she collected all the bits of dried moss and grass she could find, and carried them in her mouth to her new habitation; she nibbled off the fibres which hung to the roots of the tree, and dried weeds, and soon made her house quite warm and comfortable.

"She spent the remainder of the month of March, and the beginning of April, in laying up stores of provision, and in enlarging the inside of her house.

"The Spring began with some beautiful warm days, and everything looked cheerful and gay; the crocusses were all in flower, and the primroses, and snow-drops, with some early violets. Downy was rejoiced when she saw the daisies in the orchard begin to shew their white heads above the grass, and she took many a frisk out to enjoy the sunshine, and was quite happy and content.

"One fine evening as she was returning to her house, she saw a creature much like a weasel, only somewhat smaller, which she knew to be a mousehunt, by what she had heard of them: he was prowling along close by her tree, in hopes of catching her; he smelt about some time, and at last went in. Poor little Downy was in a sad fright; she knew not what to do, for she saw his head peeping out of her hole, and his cunning black eye looking round in every direction.

"When little Downy saw the mousehunt take possession of her house, she knew she must not venture there again, and was in great distress, as to where she should pass the night securely; at last she found a hole in the bank, and into this she crept, though very much alarmed for fear of her enemy's discovering her; she dared not go to sleep at all that night; nor did she stir out next day, till forced by hunger to seek for food; she did not see any thing of the mousehunt, but she resolved to leave the orchard and seek a safer spot for her new habitation.

"Accordingly, next day, she sat off to look for a proper situation; she passed through the orchard hedge into a beautiful green meadow, all covered with daisies, red clover, cowslips, and golden buttercups. Here Downy resolved to find a place to live in: and she whisked about under the tall heads of the cowslips and buttercups; at last she fixed on a little green mound, such an one as you, Alfred, call a fairy's throne, and here she began to scratch with her fore feet, till she had made a little opening in the turf, and she used such diligence, that before night she had made a hole large enough to sleep in, and though it was not lined or so warm as her house under the old apple-tree, yet she slept so sound that she never awoke till the sun had risen quite high in the heavens.

"Downy jumped up in a hurry when she saw how late it was: the birds had been up hours before her, and were all busily employed building their nests; every bush resounded with the songs of these little creatures while at work, and Downy knew she must not be idle, for she had much to do; being very hungry she first went to an oak which grew at some little distance, and here she found plenty of acorns among the leaves--of these she made a hearty meal, and carried some to where she was at work. With a great deal of care and labour she dug her house and made it quite round and smooth, as she went on, carrying it in a slanting direction along the hollow side of the hill. It cost poor Downy many a long day's hard work before her house was completed, and many a weary nibble before she had finished lining the inside of it. Her next care was to make a secure room for stowing away her winter stores; for this purpose, she made an opening on one side of her first room, and carried a passage along some little distance, and then formed her store chamber, which she was a long time making, but it was at length completed perfectly to her own satisfaction, having rendered it a most convenient granery. She had now nothing to do but find feed for herself, and play, but Downy never came home without bringing something useful for her house, either a bit of straw or hay, a little tuft of moss, or the dried stalk of a flower; these she cut with her teeth into little bits, and laid in her nest to make it soft and warm.

"Downy was now quite happy, her mound was all covered with flowers, fine cowslips, and butter-cups, and tuft of daisies grew close to the entrance of her house, and served to hide it from the eyes of owls, mousehunts, or any of the enemies to poor mice; and Downy thought herself quite secure from all dangers: of a beautiful moonlight night she used just to peep out from under the daisies, and look at the dew drops all shining like diamonds in the moon-beams, and once she whisked on to the top of her green mount, and began to play among the flowers, but she was alarmed by the sight of a small dog running through the high grass, and she quickly retreated into her house; nor was she so imprudent again as venture out after it grew dusk. And now the grass grew long and high, the flowers began to lose their beauty, and turn brown; every thing proclaimed the approach of summer.

"The month of June began, and the mowers came to cut down the grass; Downy was fearful that they would molest her, and spoil her house, when they came near the little mount; but she trusted to the chance that they might not discover it, and she laid quite close all day.

"But poor little Downy was very sorry to see all the nice high grass and pretty flowers cut down to the ground, those flowers which had sheltered her from the sun and rain for so long.

"'And now, (thought she), I shall certainly be caught by the great white owl; for he will be able to see me now; and I can't hide myself under the long grass and dandelions, as I used to do, for they are all cut down and spoiled.'--Poor little Downy was in a great fright all the time that the hay-makers were at work, and when she found them coming near her house, with their great pitchforks in their hands, she remembered the fate of her mother, and all her brothers and sisters in the stack, and she thought that she should be safer in the bank of the garden hedge; which was not far off. She watched an opportunity when no one was looking, and hastened away to the hedge as fast as she could, and creeping in laid quite snug; she remained in the bank the whole day, and enjoyed herself more than could be expected, for the weather was extremely pleasant, and there was a fine bed of ripe wild strawberries close by, which smelt quite refreshing. Though Downy dared not venture back into the field for fear of being killed (for mice are but timid little things) yet she was very happy all that day; and when she saw the men leave the field with the pitchforks which had caused her so much terror, she returned to her nest, and slept that night on some new hay which she had nibbled, and brought into her house to lay on. As soon as it was day, away ran careful Downy to the bank; she peeped through the hedge, and saw every thing in the garden looking very pleasant. So Miss Downy thought she should like to spend this day in the beautiful shady garden; in she went, and soon found it as charming as it looked; for the garden abounded in plenty of good things; there were peas, and beans, and potatoes, and young carrots, and beds of ripe red strawberries. Downy did nothing but eat and enjoy herself the whole day, and did not think of returning home that day, nor for many days afterwards, for she said to herself--'What occasion is there for me to go back to the meadow, where I have so much trouble to get food, for here is more than I could ever eat, and I have no trouble in getting it at all--and I am sure no mischief will happen to me here!' So she gave no thought of her nice house in the field, but amused herself by eating all the day long; till she grew quite fat, and Downy thought she was happier than ever she had been in the field, and she grew very indolent, for she now began to think that there was no occasion for her to work, but she said to herself, she would play all day; and here she shewed herself to be a very simple little mouse, (as it proved in what befel her). She had been living in the garden for nearly a month, when one fine sunshiny day, she had ventured nearer to the house than usual, and was lying reposing herself in the sun by a clod of dirt, near a rain-water butt, when she was disturbed by a noise near her, and to her horror she beheld the black cat with a fine kitten by her side, proceeding down the walk where she lay; to escape was almost impossible, even the attempt was vain, and hapless Downy gave herself up for lost. A month back, and she might have trusted to her own speed for escaping--but, alas! Downy had so long been used to do nothing but eat and enjoy herself, that she was no longer able to run as swiftly as she used to do; she dared not even move a step, and sat in an agony of hopeless despair.

"Downy now lamented her folly in having left her safe retreat in the meadow: what would she now have given to have been in her own little house under the mole hill? and she bitterly regretted ever having been tempted to quit it, for there no cats ever came, and there she had lived in innocence and happiness, whilst now she was doomed to fall a victim to the merciless claws of a hungry cat, who would devour her alive: she lay breathless! not a limb did she move, scarce did she even draw her breath, for the cat approached within a yard of the spot where she laid, and----" "Oh! poor Downy! (cried Alfred,) how sorry I am!--but, mamma, did that wicked cat kill her? do, dear mamma, make haste and tell me."--"Why, Alfred," said his mother, "you would not wait for me to tell you whether she was killed or not: I am sure you could not feel sorry for the death of a _nasty brown mouse_; you hate mice, they are such little thieves."--Little Alfred blushed at what his mother said, for he remembered they were his own words, and said to his mother, "Dear mamma, I think I will never wish for the death of any thing again, and I am very sorry I had that mouse killed; I will never kill another mouse, if it was to eat all the cakes you mean to give me when I am a good boy." Mrs. Clifford not help smiling at her little boy, but went on.--

"The cat, as I said before, was close to the clod of earth on which luckless Downy stood, and when she believed her death certain, she had the inexpressible joy of finding that her motionless posture had been the means of saving her from the vigilant eyes of the cat, who passed on quite unconcerned without taking any notice of her prey. For an instant Downy could scarce credit her own eyes when she saw her enemy pass on; but fearing that if puss should return, she should not again escape so miraculously, she darted away as she hoped unseen, but, silly little thing! she had better have laid where she was, for the kitten beheld her as she ran, and sprung upon her. Poor Downy felt her claws, but exerting all her speed, she flew to the hedge--this friendly hedge which had so often been her refuge, and darting among the tangled roots of the hawthorn and ivy, left her pursuers far behind, and, exhausted with terror and fatigue, remained trembling and panting till she was half dead. Still she heard the mews of the disappointed kitten, and the angry purrs of the old cat--who sat watching about the bank for more than an hour, waiting to seize her if she ventured forth,[*] but that poor Downy was not in a condition to do, for her poor back still ached with the bruise the kitten had given her, and she felt in such a panic, she could not have stirred a step if she had seen a dozen cats. For two whole days poor little Downy thought she should have died, and when she was a little better and began to feel hungry, there was nothing for her to eat but hay seeds and ivy leaves, or the roots of the trees, and Downy, who had of late been used to such good fare, could not bear to eat such dry unpalatable food as this was.