 | Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family |  |
MR. THIMBLE'S MOUSE-TRAP.
THE old gentleman one
morning discovered a
mouse in his bedchamber.
A mouse
or a rat was what he
held in the utmost
dread, and even the
idea of getting his
hand on one by any
accident, always gave
him a tremor. Seeing
the little animal thus
in his very bed-chamber
was most provoking, and, reaching for an oaken cane
always at the head of his bed, a defence against hostile
invaders of this “inner shrine,” he at once vowed the
mouse's destruction, and, cane in hand, started upon its
accomplishment.
“Ha!” said he, between his fixed teeth, as he closed
the door and firmly grasped his stick; “now, Mr. Mouse,
I 've got you — I 'll fix your flint for you!” and the
poor little timid thing running into a corner, the old gentleman
levelled a furious blow at him, repeating his threat
to fix his flint for him.
This offer to fix the flint of the mouse is hardly intelligible
lived in tinder-box times, when flint and steel were inseparable,
and he probably thought that an animal so inclined
to steal must have a flint.
The blow was wrongly directed, and the mouse escaped
to another corner.
Another blow, and another, resulted in the same manner;
until at last the mouse finding cover beneath an
antique bureau, the old gentleman was compelled to exert
all his generalship to bring him out.
But in vain he got down on all-fours and looked beneath
the bureau; in vain was the cane thrust in the
direction of his eyes; the enemy was nowhere to be seen,
and Mr. T. got up, flushed with the exercise, brushed his
knees, and went down to breakfast, wondering where the
little animal had gone.
After relating the incident, he was calmly engaged in
cooling his coffee, when, dropping his cup, he darted
from the table into the middle of the floor, dragged half
the breakfast things after him, and practised antics very
unbecoming in an elderly gentleman of sixty-two.
His family, astonished to see him thus, had incipient
ideas of lunatic asylums and strait jackets dart across
their minds — the old gentleman the while capering about
the room like a mad dancing-master, shaking his right
leg as if St. Vitus had selected this member for his particular
favor, regardless of the rest, until, with a tremendous
spasmodic kick, out fell the mouse from where he
had secreted himself!
It was long before Mr. T. regained composure.
Some time after, speaking of his activity, Mrs. Thimble
remarked, —
“My dear, I did n't think it was in you.”
Mr. T. looked queerly at her, as she uttered this, but
did n't say anything.
| Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
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