Silvia stood by the stream, looking at her reflection in the still, clear water. She's searched for a part where the stream puddled. “I'm so pretty. There is no other mouse in this world who is as pretty as me. I've got the prettiest reddish-brown fur and black tail and my ears are perfect. Look at my whiskers. They're marvelous.”

On and on she went admiring herself. When a leaf fluttered down from a tree branch above, it rippled the water and she could no longer see herself. Angry, she went in search of another stream.

The mouse ran through the meadow, across the hills and over to a farm. “There's no streams anywhere. Maybe this farmer has a trough and I can see my reflection in it.” Silvia saw a horse standing still. “He's drinking some water. Very good.” She ran to the trough and waited until the horse left. When the water went still she looked at herself. “I'm so pretty. There is no other mouse in this world who is as pretty as me. I've got the prettiest reddish-brown fur and black tail and my ears are perfect. Look at my whiskers. They're marvelous.”

On and on she went admiring herself until the horse came back and stuck its face into the trough, knocking Silvia into the dirt. Angry, she went in search of water.

She ran all around the farm. She found some grain and nibbled on it and then she lay down in the straw for a nap, but when she woke up, the first thing she wanted to do was to make sure she still looked as pretty as ever.

She ran up to the farmer's house and went inside through a small hole. “It smells lovely in here. I wonder if there is any water?” Up she went, climbing the cupboards. A cup of tea sat on the counter. From above she could see down into it. “There's something.” She ran to the cup, leaned on it and looked at her reflection in it. “I'm so pretty. There is no other mouse in this world who is as pretty as me. I've got the prettiest reddish-brown fur and black tail and my ears are perfect. Look at my whiskers. They're marvelous.”

On and on she went admiring herself until she tipped the cup a bit too far and fell into the warm tea. She coughed and spattered and choked.

The farmer's wife sat at the table and shrieked in horror when she saw Silvia in her teacup. “There's a horrid looking wet mouse in my tea cup. Come and kill it!” The farmer's wife ran for her husband.

Silvia climbed out of the teacup and ran as fast as she could back to the meadow and the safety of the woods. Her wet hair had picked up pieces of dirt and leaves and twigs. When Silvia saw her reflection in a rain puddle, she cried. “I'm not pretty. I've got the messiest, dirtiest reddish-brown fur and my black tail is covered with dust and my ears are bent. Look at my whiskers. They're filthy.” She cried all day and all night. Never again did she go to the stream and look at her reflection. She was content to stay in the woods and eat nuts and berries.