Duncan, the mouse, loves living in
the mouse hole at Mrs. Dunlopís house. Itís warm and cozy and very
comfortable. The only thing that makes Duncanís life miserable is Mrs.
Dunlopís cat, Kennedy. Heís always trying to catch Duncan and eat him for
supper. One morning Duncan stood at the entrance to his mouse hole. He
watched Kennedy lap up milk from his dish. Slurp, slurp, slurp. The cat
licked several drops of milk off his whiskers and then went outside
through the door.
Duncan, feeling a little braver,
came out of the hole and walked about the kitchen. Mrs. Dunlop was
standing at the sink peeling potatoes. Duncan could see a huge metal pot
sitting on the stove. Mrs. Dunlop chopped the potatoes and then put them
in the pot. Soon they were boiling away. Duncan could see steam rising
from the large pot. Then she chopped several onions. She had to wipe her
eyes several times because the onions were making her cry. Duncan could
smell them too. She tossed them into the pot along with the potatoes. Mrs.
Dunlop walked to the refrigerator. Duncan had to quickly run and hide
behind some empty milk bottles so she wouldnít see him. He peeked and saw
her carrying a string of plump, meaty sausages. "Sheís making stovies," he
whispered to himself, licking his lips. "I love stovies!"
She chopped the sausage links apart
and tossed them into the pot with the potatoes and onions. "There, thatíll
do for now. Iíll just let the stovies boil while I go outside and do a wee
bit of gardening," Mrs. Dunlop said. She wiped her hands on her apron and
then took it off and hung it on a hook.
As soon as she went outside, Duncan
ran up the cupboards to the countertop and stood near the pot. Mrs. Dunlop
had left a ladle lying on the counter. Duncan took his tiny hands and
tasted some of the potatoes that were on the ladle. "Delicious," he said.
He took a sniff of the food. "I must have a sausage," he said. He dragged
the ladle in his hands, which wasnít an easy thing for a small mouse to
do, and climbed up on the window ledge above the stove. He dropped it into
the pot. Holding onto the handle, he tried to scoop up a sausage. "Whew,
this is hot," Duncan complained. The heat from the bubbling stovies was
making him sweat. He struggled for a long time, trying to get the ladle
full of sausages out of the pot, but finally he was able to lift it. When
he dropped it on the counter, the sausages and bits of potato and onion
spilled all over.
"Stovies!" Duncan giggled and
climbed down to the hot food. He licked the countertop clean, leaving the
plump sausages until last. "Ah, now I shall have a feast," he smiled,
rubbing his tummy. He was about to take a bite when he heard the door
creak. He looked down in dismay to see Kennedy had come back in the house.
Duncan hid behind the salt and peppershakers.
Kennedy sniffed the air. "Whatís the
smell? It must be something delicious," he meowed and walked over to the
stove. He saw the ladle and the sausages lying on the counter. "How did
these get here?" he wondered, but happy to see them, he picked one up and
dropped it in his mouth. "Yummy," he drooled.
Duncan was angry. Those sausages
were supposed to be for him, not for the cat!
Kennedy picked up another sausage
and dropped it in his mouth at the exact moment that Mrs. Dunlop walked in
the back door. "Whatís this? Kennedy! Youíre a bad, bad cat. Youíre into
my stovies, eating my sausages?" she shouted.
Kennedy jumped down off the counter
and stood, innocently looking up at Mrs. Dunlop. He let out a loud meow
and purred as he rubbed himself against her leg. "Donít give me any of
that. I caught you red handed eating the sausages. Bad cat. Youíre going
outside for the rest of the day," she said and grabbed Kennedy in her
arms. She carried him outside into the back garden.
Duncan could hear her scolding the
cat. He quickly grabbed 2 sausages and held them tightly in his arms as he
climbed down off the counter to the floor. He ran as fast as he could to
his mouse hole and dropped the sausages.
Mrs. Dunlop came back into the
house. Duncan giggled knowing that all day long he could run around the
house without Kennedy there to bother him. It was going to be a grand day.
He sat on the floor, pulled the sausages onto his lap and started to eat
them. When he took the last bite, his tummy was fat and full. "Yes, itís
going to be a grand day," he laughed and lay down to take a wee nap.